bi-writes · 3 days ago
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ok simon and his mail order bride live rent-free in my head now and, like, what i wanna know is what their anniversaries look like? not just their one year anniversary, but also their fifth or tenth? how does it change as they settle into that deep comfortability that comes with being with someone a long time? -391780
this piece i still consider canon mail-order bride, but i see it almost as an extra than a continuation of the current story since it is very much in the future of that timeline. <3
mail-order bride
it's difficult to see the potential of something so mangled. sometimes things are so worn out and so used that they don't reflect what their purpose was. instead of function, they see flaw. instead of value, they see waste.
sometimes you wonder if that's what they saw in you. sometimes you wonder if that's why you were given to him.
that's what they made him. simon was a tortured dog they let loose. they saw value, but only what was left, and perhaps they thought something like you might help them squeeze just that little bit more out of him. one more year. one more op.
the sunlight wakes you up. you forgot to pull the blinds, but when you see simon sleeping peacefully next to you, it's worth it to be up so early. you know as soon as you move, he will wake, so you keep still for just a few more minutes.
today marks ten. he doesn't look much older. he seems to have stopped aging ever since you asked him to put in his papers.
like always, as soon as you sit up, simon blinks awake. he's bleary, but conscious, and when your eyes meet, you smile at him. he lifts his big hand and rubs your back gently. you don't speak any words so early in the morning, but you don't have to. there isn't much to say when the love of your life loves you, and you love them back.
you push the blankets off, giggling when you reveal the black and orange balls of fur that blink up at you. they almost seem irritated that you interrupted their sleep, snuggled in the heat that simon radiated. they'll just have to deal with it.
you drag your hand down simon's leg wordlessly. you hear his deep breaths from behind, and you reach into your bedside table to press a little balm into your hand before spreading the ointment across his knee and under it. you work it into the muscles nice and slow; any faster, and simon will hitch his breath in pain, and you'll have to start over.
you kiss his knee before laying back down, settling into his side, and you lift up your left hand, wiggling your fingers knowingly at him before looking up towards his face. he smiles down at you sleepily, raising his hand to cup your fingers.
"still love me?" you ask softly, and simon pretends to think about.
"mmm..." he rumbles. "still love ya."
"but do you still like me?"
"more everyday."
the first few years were spent trying to play catch-up. fancy dinners, expensive gifts, handwritten letters that could've been novels to try and stuff the love you have for each other all in one night. they were all wonderful; you think about those nights all the time, and you cherish the gifts he's given you like they are a part of you, but today feels different.
today might not be just another day, but it's just as special as yesterday. and the day before that. and the day before that.
when it's time to really wake up, you let simon guide you. he walks easy, barely a limp, and he sits you down at your vanity to help you do your hair as you add your serums and moisturizers. he's good with that brush, running it through gently, parting your hair the way you like so he can tie it up. he'd braid your hair if you asked him to (he said it wasn't unlike all the knots he knows how to tie--and he meant it, no one dutch braids like him), but you know your show came out last night, and you want to watch them with the scones you have proofing in the fridge.
he makes the coffee and tea while you set the scones in the oven. you fill the cat's bowls while he cleans out the water fountain. it's wordless, the morning routine, but you like the times when you brush by him. when your arm runs against his. when your hands bump going for the same cabinet. when he leans down as he passes you, kissing along your jaw before he keeps walking.
bliss. fucking bliss.
he's waiting for you in the living room once you pull the scones out of the oven. your coffee sits on the table on its coaster, in your favorite mug, and he's under your blanket as he flips through the tv. he already knows what you'll want to watch, and you bite back your smile when you notice him typing it into the search bar because he didn't see it when he scrolled past (you keep telling him to wear his glasses, but he'll never listen).
you take a seat next to him, thumbing at his cheek, and he takes a scone off the plate before biting into it. he smiles when he tastes chocolate, looking at you knowingly, and you reach for his hand as you settle against his chest.
you used to be mangled, too. a mess. pretty on the outside, dying on the inside. all fried wires, a traumatized animal, learned behavior of relieve and appease that kept you out of trouble and out of sight.
you have never seen simon this way. and simon has never seen you this way. no hopeless potential. no wasted space. no diminishing value.
i matter because you matter. you matter because i matter.
hidden, not broken. disguised, not incomplete. you did not have jagged edges, only armor that you tried to put up to protect yourself.
you tip your head back to look up at him, and when he cups your jaw to stare back at you, you're relieved by what you see in his eyes.
ten years. it will be nothing like forever. it will be nothing like your next life, nor like the life after that. it's comforting to know what home looks like. maybe you will recognize it the way you recognized it in this life.
no, that can't be it.
you recognized it because it had already happened. in some other time, in some other place, you were sitting where you sit now, looking at simon the way you look at him now.
you knew who he was before you even met him, and you will know who he is when you meet him again.
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jungaji · 2 days ago
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when they miss you ౨ৎ
nct dream '00 line ㅤ♡
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RENJUN (๑•ᴗ•๑)
you'll always know when renjun misses you because that's when he starts pulling out his mandarin. he calls you late at night, voice soft, laced with the longing he doesn’t really bother hiding,
“我真的好想你吖” (i miss you so much)
“几时才能见面呢?” (when will we get to meet?)
and even if you didn't know or understand chinese before, you've come to learn it after picking it up from him through these calls over time. he always tells you that it's enough to know just these pretty words, and that you don't need to know more.
each phrase or sentence he tells you carries a bit of his heart, and its those little 我爱你 (i love you) moments that linger with you, bridging any distance between the two of you.
JENO (.◜◡◝)
missing you is almost like a battle jeno tries not to lose. he'll pretend like its no big deal, acting like he's just casually checking in on you when he texts, “whatchu doing?”
you always tease him for how obvious he gets—especially because the moment you tell him he can come over, he's at your door before you can even blink.
you open it to find his cheeks flushed, his signature eye smile breaking out as he murmurs a quick and bashful “hi,” before he's pulling you close, lips crashing onto yours. from there, he's glued to your side, following you around whereever you go—even to the bathroom. “i just wanna be close to you!”
whether he's helping you out with little things around your house or just leaning against the wall watching you, his presence fills every corner, as if he can finally relax now that he's with you.
HAECHAN ʕ•Ⱉ•ʔ
being apart from you is a nightmare for hyuck. he's naturally clingy, always close whenever he's with you. but when he's away, its like his clinginess amplifies a thousand times.
if he's the one who's busy, he'll video-call you the second he has any free time, even if it's just a simple “hi”, he can't help but want to see your pretty face and hear your sweet voice.
and when you're the one who's busy? your phone will be bombarded with his texts, asking what you're doing, who you're with, and why you're not with him. if you take too long to respond, he starts sending texts like, “so what position are the two of you in rn?” or, “i know you hate me at least say it to my face.”
and just when you're about to nag at him for being ridiculous, he always makes sure to send you a selfie of himself, teary eyed with a cute pout, accompanied with a, “i just miss you :(”
JAEMIN ₍ᐢ ɞ̴̶̷ ̫ ɞ̴̶̷ ᐢ₎
jaemin swears he misses you all the time, but when the two of you are truly apart, he goes the extra mile to make sure you feel it too.
he's always checking in—texts asking if you've eaten, reminders to rest, and occasionally surprising you with food deliveries whenever he knows you haven't had the time to cook. acts of service come naturally to him—its his way of making sure you're taken care of even when he can't be there himself.
and then there are his calls. his voice soft but steady, filling any silence with gentle reminders of how much he misses you. he never lets the distance feel like an obstacle, his words reaching you with such warmth that its as if he's right there beside you.
“i wish i could be there by your side.”
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authors notes: just a lil smth before i disappear for the next few weeks, school has been tough on me :,[ also ive never written in this format before but im really happy with how this turned out hehe i hope youll enjoy, happy reading<3
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pearlymel · 1 day ago
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☆ cw. mdni, fem!reader, fluffy smut, talks of having children, established relationship.
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Zayne Always admired that look on your face whenever he would start making love to you.
Your messed up hair that no matter how much he tried smoothening it out with his fingers, it would end up even messier, your swollen parted glossy lips, and half-lidded awaiting eyes.
Zayne doesn't really know when he became fond of you. Perhaps it was when he first met you all those years ago, when you two were kids. Maybe it was when he found you passed out under a tree during a storm.
But ever since he realized his feelings for you all he could think about was making sure you don't get hurt. He's not sure if he's been doing a good job with that. Especially when you're asking for another round after he just wrecked your pussy from the long hours at the hospital, could you really blame him?
As if you could read his mind, you whisper "you're doing well, dearest."
"I should be the one reassuring you, love." He chuckled as he pressed a kiss on your forehead. He's quite glad you're in his arms. There are days where his work takes a toll on him more than usual.
He knows sometimes you're able and willing to go another round since you're quite greedy to keep the feeling going, he'd always make sure to stop you. You can be a little too impatient sometimes, it makes his cheeks flush a rosy pink as he rubbed the tip of his re-hardend flushed length against your slit, coating himself in your slick.
And there's your gasp and arch of your back once he pushed in with a slow, deliberate thrust, filling you all at once, like your cunt was swallowing him in that it never misses to make him dizzy.
His right hand traces along your left arm until it reached your hand to enclose your fingers together, where he could feel your wedding ring on his skin. with that, Zayne starts to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm. He sets a gentle pace, focusing on long, deep strokes that aim to please rather than overwhelm as your lips find his into a messy, open-mouthed kiss, your tongues tangling lazily.
He angles his hips, hitting that spongy spot inside you that never fails to make you whimper and squirm underneath him. He reaches his free hand down between your bodies to find your clit, and he rubs slow, tight circles around the sensitive bud, matching the rhythm of his thrusts and your hand squeezes his so hard, signalling your pending orgasm.
Zayne can feel his own release building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, he redoubles his efforts, his fingers working on your clit faster as his cock starts pounding into harder, deeper for your pleasures. Your fluttering walls responds with a tight clench around his cock until your eyes are rolling back.
"Zayne," you pant his name softly like a prayer to his ear, your fingertips brushing over his shoulder to his cheek, "do you ever.. ever want to have a baby—"
The question catches him off guard. It's not that the thought of having kids with you doesn't excite him. Quite the opposite. You've both been married for a while, and he's quite keen on the idea.
"Haaah—" So keen that that it makes him cum right on the spot, he buries himself to the hilt inside, he groans low and long, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed into your awaiting womb in hot, thick spurts.
You're both silent in eachother's embrace for a while before he pulls out, you watch his every move without a word, from him cleaning you up to joining you back in bed so he could hold you close.
"You didn't answer me." You poke your question at him, and he raises an amused eyebrow, ".. the thought of having kids with you crosses my mind everytime i see you play with them." He answers you with passion, your heart skips a beat.
"... I think a copy of you and i would be cute." The idea of having a child that's a mix of both him and you being cute was something he also thought many times before. "Is that the only reason you want a kid?" He teased lowly, his hand moving to caress your nape now.
"Well you'd be a great father," you say it as if it's the obvious, and Zayne's smile grows wider as your statement, he couldn't help but feel happy hearing you think of him as a father.
The thought of you, carrying his child was quite appealing to him. He's quite sure he'd pamper you and take care of you ten times more than before.
"Do you really think so?" He asks as he watches you blink sleepily, "of course.. you're attentive, caring, loving, plus a doctor."
"And you think those will make me a great father?" His hand moves further down from your nape, it's now resting on the top of your hip, grabbing it lightly. Zayne's thumb continues to trace the skin of your hip in a soft manner. "How about you? Would you be a good mother?" He asks genuinely.
You're hesitant, "i don't think so."
"Why not?"
"..."
"I think you'll be an amazing mother, you just don't know it yet." Zayne softly pecks your cheek, and you blink slowly at the kiss.
Sometimes even he wonders why you can't see yourself the same way he does. He's sure if you were to give birth to his child, you'd instantly be in love with the little baby in your hands.
"you're so easy to love." You murmur, and his eyebrows furrow, "i mean.. anyone could fall for you because of your loveable nature." You peck at the corner of his lips this time.
Zayne's response is silent as he's still bewildered by what you said. He's never considered himself to be someone that would make a woman fall madly in love with him, when all he's ever thought of loving was that one person he's known all his life, in every universe.
"Don't think about it so much," you look down at him from your side in this still night, with your arms moving to cage him in close, "I love you."
He's quite lucky to have someone like you in his life, you're too sweet and kind with your words. He's always known that.
He stares at you quietly for a moment before responding. "I love you, so much."
You both retire for the night, with your heart's content knowing there still is a long way to your marriage.
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jji-lee · 3 days ago
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jisung knew that something was wrong with you since the moment you stepped foot in front of him. don't get him wrong, you're 100% his type, hot. but he could tell that behind that smart ass mouth, something something was off about you. he felt like he had seen this behavior somewhere he just couldn't quite put his finger on it.
.
when you had come out of your dorm building he had leaned in for a hug, typical greeting, and you just walked right past him a loud come on leaving you lips as you walked towards the parking lot. maybe you just hadn't seen him.
.
in the car he had reached over to grab your thigh as the traffic light turned red, to which you immediately slapped his hand away with your purse before throwing him a dirty look,
"watch your hands park jisung."
okay fair enough. maybe he was getting a little handsy too soon.
.
as you both sat in burger king, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips as you glared holes through his head, he playfully picked up a french fry pressing it to your lips so you'd eat. his mouth hung open as he watched the fry fly out of his hand onto the floor. you bent down to pick up the fried potato from the floor a small laugh leaving your lips,
"ha, sorry, saw a fly on it."
hm, wouldn't want you eating a fly right?
.
it was about time he dropped you off, jeno's voice ringing in his head, do not sleep with her park jisung. so instead he opted for a small kiss. you'd think for 50 bucks an hour and free dates you'd at least give him a peck. so as you both stood in the lobby of your dorm he did what any guy would do, lean in. and you did what no girl has ever done to him, you pushed him away leaning back with an awkward smile on your face,
"okayyy now, i think that's enough for tonight, have a good night alright?"
but as you turned around to leave jisung couldn't help the confusion that filled him, reaching forward to grab your shoulder, turning you to face him.
"jisung? what is it?"
"what do you mean what is it? what is wrong with you?"
he watched as your eyebrows creased,
"what is wrong with me? are you actually acting out cause i won't kiss you goodnight? what are you a toddler?"
jisung let out a dry laugh raising his hands in defense,
"ohhh so you think this is cause of the kiss?"
you nodded as he let out a sigh, why are you such a-
"you've been great y/n! I even like your bratty attitude! and wow you're also super hot too! it's like you're the full package, but oh my god what is wrong with you?"
you blinked slowly as you waited for him to continue, where was he going with this?
"you think i haven't noticed? i try to give you a hug, oh okay you're walking the other way. i try to touch your thigh, alright maybe that was too much on my part. i try to feed you a fry, suddenly there's an invisible fly. you even pretended to need two hands to hold that flimsy ass bouquet i got you!"
you gulped,
"i just-"
you waved your hands around trying to find an excuse.
"you just what y/n? you're supposed to act like my girlfriend. what are you some lame ass virgin? you act like you've never even sat next to a man!"
you bit the inside of your cheek as you fidgeted from one foot to another, looking down at your shoes.
"wait-"
you felt his hand on your chin, bringing your head up to look at him. you tried your best to not flinch away from his touch, holding your breath.
"y/n have you actually never touched a guy?"
you slapped his hand away, taking a deep breath,
"so what? is it so bad that not all of us are whores like you?”
he let out a scoff,
“whore? at least i’m not a twenty something year old virgin! do you even touch yourself?”
“park jisung! you- that’s none of your business! you’re the one paying for a girlfriend! who’s the real loser?”
he gave you a look saying okay but you’re still a virgin.
“whatever! thanks for the- the burger! get home safe! i’ll be expecting some form of payment for our first couple argument!”
you rushed away from him not even sparing him a glance as you furiously pressed on the elevator button. he just watched as you left no longer finding the words to describe his shock.
no way he bagged himself a virgin.
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ᡣ𐭩 。ꪆৎ ˚⋅rent-a-girlfriend.com ~ 5. something is off...
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previous ~ masterlist ~ next
notes : i just love writing fuckboys with dumb ass ideas. unlike the mark one this dumbass plan is just adding to the plot it won't be the major issue in the smau... guys in the chat write one k-idol that you wouldn't mind being a villain LMAOOOO
taglist : @bunniin , @neverbeurs , @fakeuwus , @girlz4jaem , @222brainrot , @mystverse , @sk8mrk , @ksywoo , @snowyseungs , @nislost , @nosungluv , @jae-n0 , @peterm4rker , @livingdoll-hara , @doejaejung , @tommina , @413ktz , @aerivrs , @cyjzzl , @dolleyedgirl , @nneteyamss , @mrkleelvr , @4chensungs , @nctrawberries , @multifandomania , @catpjimin , @dudekiss3r , @lvrholic , @yuujiswrld , @slayhaechan , @catdonut657 , @kodasity , @prettybluei , @ohwowzersthatscool , @byeonwooseokabs , @m1ng1swife , @hyucksunset , @rksbae , @hyucktion , @lionzyon , @baobeii55 , @jakesbubu , @axo-l0tl , @sunghoonsgfreal , @strawberrysavi , @hyunjungjae , @xyzsiissnnsnsjs , @kookssecret , @babrieeee , @defzcl
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hanniesluvr · 2 days ago
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excuse me, sir? | x.mh
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role playing w minghao
pairing: xu minghao x reader
genre: est. relationship (as always), smut
word count: ~1.3k (not what? proofread :p)
synopsis: upon your return from a halloween party, you make a comment about your anti-delulu boyfriend looking like a teacher in his light yagami costume… you can fill in the gaps.
!other kinktober fics!
a/n: can i end a drabble without them saying i love you and/ or just being insanely mushy at the end ?
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“you looked so cute tonight, miss misa,” minghao hummed, twirling you into your shared apartment. once he closed the door, you pushed him against it, hands innocently pressed against his chest. “thank you, light yagami,” you giggled, making him smile as he grabbed your ass under your skirt and pulled you in for a kiss.
“you know, you kinda look like a hot teacher or something,” you say seductively, tracing your fingers slowly up and down his bicep. the lust in your eyes making him groan under his breath. “you know missy…” he trailed off, looking at your lips while biting his own. “if i recall,” he started walking away from the door forcing you backward toward the dining room table. “you’re currently failing my class. what are we gonna do about that, hm?” once your butt bumped the table, he hoisted you up onto it, stepping between your legs.
you chuckled, resting your arms on his shoulders bringing him closer. “well professor, do you offer extra credit?” you ask, innocently batting your eyelashes. he lifted a hand to your hair, twirling one of your little pigtails around his finger. “well miss misa… i typically don’t hand out extra credit. but,” his hands started sliding up your thighs and under your skirt. “i might be able to make an exception.” you placed a hand on his chest, silently telling him to take a step back, then you got off the table. “how many points is this extra credit worth?” you cocked an eyebrow and crossed your arms. “obviously, miss misa, that would depend on how well you do. right?” he took a couple steps back to lean against the counter, now also crossing his arms. “you’re right,” you sighed walking to him again. “i better get started,” you nearly whispered as your lips almost brushed his.
you slowly got down to your knees, your hands trailing his body and unbuttoning his coat on the way down, not breaking eye contact. without saying a word, you undid his belt and pants, then pulled his underwear down just enough to free his cock. he let out a soft, breathy moan in response and groaned, “pull ‘em down, miss misa.” you brought a hand to his cock and started pumping him slowly. “but sir, someone could walk in on us,” you playfully smirked, licking a stripe along his shaft. “fuck~ right…” he chuckled, not believing that he���s how you two ended up here in the first place. “we’re in my office, huh pretty?”
you bring up scenarios with minghao all the time, but he was so against the fantasy of it all. like last halloween, he was ghostface, you were sydney. he didn’t care for you wanting him to keep his mask on when you two went to the bedroom. “i’m not keeping the mask on, y/n. i’m fucking you, not billy loomis,” he’d state bluntly, pinning you to the bed. once it got to that point however, you didn’t care. you wouldn’t push any further. but tonight, you didn’t even have to try. he started it. fucking minghao. all you did was mention that he looked like a hot teacher? and now you’re here?
once you’d gagged on him a couple times, drool spilling down your neck and chest, he used your pigtails to tug you off of him. “i’d say you’re sitting at about a C- right now, miss misa. let’s make it an A+. get up,” he demanded. you stumbled to your feet, about to wipe your spit off your chin, but he started devouring your lips before you got the chance. he spun you around so you were the one against the counter. when he pulled away, he rested his forehead on yours, both of you panting. “this is really fucking hot,” he breathed with an airy chuckle following. “i’ve been trying to tell you, mr. xu,” you teased, leaning in to bite his lip.
“turn around, y/n.”
“ah ah ah,” you waved your finger back and forth, “what’s my name?”
“christ misa, turn the fuck around,” he growled, grabbing your shoulders to spin you around and force you down onto the counter. “take everything i give you like a good girl, and i promise you’ll pass, okay?” he sounded nurturing behind you. a strong contrast from what was about to follow. “yes, sir,” you whimpered out, laying your face gently onto the cool counter.
minghao barely had to lift your skirt do to how short it was. he pulled your black lace panties down to your boots where they got caught and stayed for the remainder of your “extra credit”. normally in this position, minghao would take his time with you, slowly kneading your ass with his hands, kissing down your back, telling you how beautiful you were. not tonight, however.
without warning, minghao plunged into your sopping cunt and started to fuck you like there was no tomorrow. your whimpers and his groans filled your apartment as you both were so desperate to get the fuck off. “such a good fucking girl, miss misa. you gonna cum for me, huh? gonna get that A+ you want oh so bad?” he taunted. he looked down to where your cunt repeatedly swallowed his aching cock, your skirt allowing just the right amount of visibility. he let out a long, low groan before throwing his head back, gripping your hips tighter and fucking into you even harder than before. “y-yes,” you stuttered, completely fucked out of your mind, seconds away from your breaking point. he leaned down, tie tickling against your back, his breath brushing your ear, “yes what?” something about the way he asked that simple question, mixed with the now close proximity between you two, and the overall “theme” of what this fuck is all about sends you spiraling. “f-fuck~ yes sir! h-hao im cumming!” you whine out, physically unable to hold on any longer. “there you go, miss misa. what a good g-girl. let it out, pretty,” he consoled, fucking you through your high.
once you came down from your orgasm, you tried to plea with minghao to stop as the overstimulation was almost too much for you to handle. “ah~ h-hao pleeease i can’t take it,” you whimpered softly, his cock still plowing into you. “mr. xu to you, sweetheart. and i already told you, you’ll take what i give you if you want to pass.” minghao keeping this fictional dynamic going had you getting worked up all over again, and quicker than before, you felt another knot forming in your tummy. he felt your cunt start to clench around him repeatedly again, knowing this time he’d get to ride out your orgasm with you. “hold it, pretty. i’m almost there,” he panted, thrusting into you without restraint.
one last sharp move of his hips and you were falling apart on his cock all over again. between your cunt spasming around his cock, and the wet sounds mixed with your desperate noises filling his ears, minghao then let go, both of you riding out the ends of your highs together.
once the two of you had washed up, you both practically fell into bed, exhausted from the party and after party festivities you took part in. “goodnight baby,” minghao whispered from behind, spooning you. “goodnight hao,” you smiled and held his arms around you tighter. “this might sound crazy, but…” his voice trailed off. “…could we maybe do something that that again?” you basically scoffed at him before turning around to face him on your side. “hao, i’ve been trying to get you to roleplay with me forever. duh we can do that again,” you said with sarcastic attitude. he kissed you on the forehead and chuckled, “i love you.” you kissed him on the lips this time, “i love you too.”
tag list: @skzooluvr @jenoslutie @map0fthes0ul7 @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goblynnrockz @actuallynarii @glttrlix
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judesmoonbeauty · 2 days ago
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Jude Jazza's PV Dissection ☾.
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Beneath the cut for event and other suitor's route spoilers. This is just for fun, and please feel free to kindly share what you think! To be honest, I don't think I have anything interesting to add, but here goes it...
My First Thought: Let’s just state the obvious and say that Jude’s route is going to be ANGSTY and WILD!!! That much is definite by watching the PV, and that’s pretty much what we see in his events as well. The animation was beautiful. There’s a A LOT of recycled CGs, and majority of his lines come from his gacha cards and bond stories, but it gets the job done.
However, I feel like Jude is still very much under wraps. His PV barely gave us anything to go on that we don’t already know about, or haven't theorized. I’ve watched it like 15 times. I counted the number of hands on the clocks to see if there were 13 (there’s not), and paused to search the outline of Big Ben, and things like the shadows to see if something was hinted or hidden, but nothing.
Of course, that doesn’t mean it didn’t give us anything at all, but before we get into that, let’s just recap the premise of Act 2:
In Act 2, Kate has already been the fairytale keeper for one full week, and that’s when Vogel enters the picture with the claim that they want to be “friends” with Crown. Harrison knows that they’re lying about something, and Darius, as we learn, is looking for “family members.”
Now…..
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Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick - The ticking clock is very prominent in his trailer, and that makes sense because Jude’s fairytale curse is associated with time. His icon is an hourglass, and he is very cognizant in events/routes about wasting time. Additionally, it’s interesting to note that several of Jude’s events often mention specific lengths of years that have passed, such as, Dark IF, GHR, Island Lust, and a bond story.
As far as the PV goes, I think it may be hinting that Jude is running out of time in the sense of accomplishing a goal, which will in turn fulfill a promise. Our average life span today is about 80 years, but back then it was much shorter, and I feel like Jude needs a lot of time to accomplish what he is doing. It could be that a single lifetime is not enough for him to accomplish it, but he is going to try anyway. Such as? Him traveling to the moon. I feel like the PV points to this at the outset with that giant full moon behind Big Ben. I think this may be a CG we get.
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Conversely, it could be that he is running out of time in the sense that he is dying of an illness. We know for a fact that he suffers from seasonal asthma (which is triggered with enclosed spaces filled with smoke), he smokes himself, but he also suffered from childhood malnutrition, and that can cause a lot of issues. Still, I don’t know how strong of a theory this is as Jude has no problem with physical exertion or activity……not looking at that one other gut I love in IkePri.
Additionally, a part of me feels like he’s just tired and he wants to die. To be honest, all these guys have some kind of death wish in one form or another, but in terms of Jude, Ellis said that he looked like he was going to fall into the river as he looked at the moon while chain smoking, and Roger said Jude looked like he was vacantly staring at the moon as if he had given up on something.
Notably, in Roger’s past records, we learn that Jude uses cigarettes to fuel his rage to keep him living, and Kate also mentioned in his Cruise Liner event that anger is a great motivator.
So, for all intents and purposes, Jude is being kept alive by his own rage, cigarettes, the promise he made, and Roger. THANK YOU ROGER! That’s what I feel at least.
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Rewinds/Record Scratches: I think glitchy rewind/record-scratching sound is being cleverly used to note the different tones we are going to see in his route, like I mentioned before, it’s going to be angsty and wild (that’s what I feel anyway).
However, I will say that a part of me feels like it’s a nod to all the times he says things like, ‘once you’ve lost something, you can’t get it back.' How many of us wish we could rewind and do things over or see someone we’ve lost again, even if it were just for a minute?
Jude said in Roger’s route that once someone is gone those left behind are stuck feeling a void, and I think he’d do whatever he could to rewind time if that were in his power. However, cue that jazzy music and we find ourselves in the interior of a…..
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Warehouse: No doubt by the docks that Jude frequents for deliveries, and while it’s nothing major, it does indicate one of the settings we will likely be at. Although, this is pretty obvious to most of us because in both his first event and his one year anniversary event, they are at the warehouses by the docks.
Personally, I loved the detail of the seagulls, not that is important in anyway, but I just got excited to see a visual of it instead of just imagining it. However, I am hoping to see something different in terms of what we’ve already seen in both of those events. Kate getting caught by someone who broke their contract with Jude or is after Jude, and she is caught in the middle. Is that too much to ask?
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Papers: We quickly shift to an office like space, whether this is located at Raven or at Crown, there is something very important to note in this scene, and that’s not only the rows of books behind our clever mobster, but the bulletin board that has notes stuck all over them.
At first, I thought that this could be business plans, product information or designs, business targets, or information about the personal lives of those whom Jude makes contracts with. Ultimately, I think that these are engineering designs and research papers that he’s written and/or reviewed for……moon travel. If you look closely, one paper in particular has a definite design on it.
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Why am I so hellbent on this? Because Jude says himself in his bond levels that he’s trying to nab all the researches and scientists that he can as quickly as possible, and that he was going to have Ellis look into the authors who wrote the papers he had been reading. On a random note, I don’t think this would be his office space at Raven, but his personal office or room at Crown.
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About that Bridge Scene: You know, the one where he looks completely over this shit as he smokes a cigarette? Then all of a sudden he shoots you that look like he’s gonna tear you up because he’s annoyed, and you’re like: Impregnate me, please? That one. So, the night that Ellis met Jude, Ellis said that he was standing on the bridge looking like he was about to fall into the river.
I believe this may be the second CG we may get of Jude in his route, and I want to know why he goes to the bridge? Is there special meaning to it? Did he visit that place with his loved one? Was a promise made under the moon? Is this were he wants….things to end? And forgive this last bit, but I can’t help but think of the song ‘Moon River’ when he’s at that bridge.
Ah, to hell with it, It’s too pretty not have posted again:
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How long: When we get to the scene of Jude and Kate in a somewhat awkward rain scene (I agree with my friends, her sprite looks out of place), he asks Kate how long she is planning to stick next to him. Here again, we have a form of time being hinted at, and Kate’s time with Crown should end in three weeks time.
Still, we don’t know how far along we are in his route when he asks her this question, so it’s difficult to say how much time Kate has remaining with him at this point. What we can guess is that she’s been at Crown long enough to have seen Jude do horrendous things - all of Crown - for that matter.
Additionally, she will have seen the filthy underbelly of England at that point, perhaps in the form of drugs, SA, human-trafficking and the like, if his events are any indication of that. Not to mention his cruel attempts to force her to give up on being fairytale keeper. So, how do you think Kate will answer, and will her answer disrupt his plans??
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Unhinged, Possessive, Obsessive Jude: Is he really though? I think so. This is what I think will be the third CG - belonging to his Mad Love End. Did you all see those eyes??? He is UNHINGED, and I am HERE for it. I think it really drives home the point too that he is going to make her pay for placing a curse on him for the rest of her life - that’s Judese for - I’ll make you pay for making me love you for as long as you live.
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Seeing him that expression in his eyes and the way he plays with her hair, (this is also a thing Jude does in his events), really exemplifies the phrase that he also uses in that their being together is madness.
Thinking about it, it really wasn’t until the Island Lust story that we started to see a small glimmer of Mr. Jazza’s jealousy, and that’s because Jude is often cold and controls any emotions that could be linked to her romantically. But we slowly start to see this change with Island lust, I gushed how he didn’t like Kate thinking about the other Crown members when he was near her, and in effect, ignoring him.
In the Jude vs. Nica event, we got even more of his jelly side when he learned that Kate and Nica are on a first name basis, even though they just met. CUTEST THING EVER.
And finally, in his Dark Mafia card, Jude is ready to commit murder over the guys who are looking at Kate. So, I’m really looking forward to seeing how jealous or possessive he may get once he gives into his feelings.
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Pocket Watch: The time shows at 10:10 pm. Is this significant? I can’t say for sure, but there is nothing odd about the pocket watch itself. The only thing I noticed is that the hands on the pocket watch aren’t moving.
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That doesn't necessarily mean anything, but let’s throw out a random idea I had about the watch actually being broken. It doesn’t work. The time stopped at exactly 10:10 pm, perhaps some incident happened during that time when it stopped, and Jude wears it as a memento. Ultimately, I don’t place too much stock in this because there's really no basis for it, but let's say we've covered our bases with this and move on to the last, but certainly not least...
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My Evil (or sin), is an unfulfilled promise: His tag line at the end….I don’t believe this is related to Jude’s fated demise. I have an inkling that Cybird may go the Disney route for his fate, but that can be a discussion for another day….maybe. What I do believe is that this emphasizes Jude’s compellation to pay back an unfulfilled promise (essentially what amounts to a betrayal).
I don’t feel that he MUST pay back betrayals that others experience, but if he is involved in a case in some manner of speaking (like for missions), Jude has been known to carry out revenge, such as he does to Anne’s father in GHR. Also, in the "Evil Behind the Scenes" event, Jude allows the husband of the wife who was unfaithful take care of things behind closed doors (it said it was supposed to be talking, but Ellis was in the room too, and who knows what the husband did). It’s interesting, because Jude mentions that while he has no interest in harming women, betrayal must be repaid, so whatever happened happened.
This would make sense as to why Jude does everything he can to fulfill his own promises. But, what if he fails to keep his own promise……what happens then? Hope to find out soon.
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That's all I could dig up. They really gave us nothing, but everything at the same time?
Honorable Mention: No eye Kate...please stop treating my girl this way cybird!
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drabblesandsnippets · 1 day ago
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Safe
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)
Background: TW: (Past) SA. During times when old traumatic memories start to pop up again (for whatever random reason/trigger), I find myself seeking out art that I can connect with to help me process things. Over the years, I’ve spent endless hours searching for stories/books where the main character is dealing with sexual trauma while also trying to have/maintain a healthy sex life - this is my attempt to write that type of story (without delving into the details of the trauma).
Summary: (4k) TW: (Past) SA. Bucky’s girlfriend craves intimacy while struggling with triggers and flashbacks.
Warnings: 18+ Only. TW: Mention of past SA/trauma (very vague), flashbacks (including during sex), anxiety. Established relationship. Bucky doesn’t always sleep with his prosthetic on (who else has this headcanon?). Fluff. Praise. Enthusiastic consent. Soft and sweet Bucky. Pet names (doll, sweetheart, baby). (Unprotected) PiV. Aftercare.
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Trauma has a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it. 
One minute, you’re laughing and dancing in the kitchen with your boyfriend, his hands around your waist while he sings a song from the 40’s, and the next thing you know, you’re leaning over the sink, your knees nearly giving out as you try to remember how to breathe. 
All it took was one fleeting press of Bucky against your back and you were suddenly transported to a different time, your mind taking you back to those moments when your life irrevocably changed.
Other times, it’s less conspicuous. 
You’re on the back of his motorcycle, enjoying a peaceful ride outside the city, taking the scenic route to enjoy a bit more time together, when you’re hit with a wave of anxiety. Something in your brain made a connection to the past, and the only signal you can give Bucky is a tighter hold around his torso.
There’s not much that fazes him, given his own history and lingering struggles, but it doesn’t always make it easier. You oscillate between wanting to talk it all out and just wanting to pretend you’re fine - Bucky doing his best to meet you wherever you’re at, trying to ease your burden as best he can.
When you’re really lucky, it’s a momentary thing, your mind allowing the memory to fade so you can focus on the present. When that happens, you get to go weeks, sometimes months, without it happening again.
Of course, you’re not always that lucky. There are times when it invades the rest of your day, seeping into moments it has no business being a part of. Trying to control parts of your life that you swore it’d never touch. 
And then, there are times like now, when it sticks around. When it feels like the smallest thing sets you off, brief flashes of things you’d rather not have to think about playing out behind your eyes. Your body constantly on edge, giving you no reprieve, even when the memories finally fade out.
You’re not sure how many days it’s been, or what the initial trigger even was, your mind too preoccupied with trying not to take a trip down memory lane. The only lifeline you can cling to is knowing you have a partner who supports you as much as you support him, especially during dark times, refusing to give up on each other.
As painful as it all can be, it’s a familiar pattern, one you know you’ll eventually break free of, no matter how turbulent it gets. Until then, you ride the wave, doing everything you can to stay afloat, to allow yourself to continue to live your life, seek out the things that bring you joy and pleasure.
Yesterday was filled with laughter and adventures, Bucky taking you to some of his favorite places, whisking you off to the next destination when your anxiety started to get the better of you. As if he’s made it his mission to help you find your footing again.
Bucky’s love and patience is more than you could have ever hoped for, and as you wake up with him snuggled against your back, in the bed you’ve shared for years, the remnants of your dream trying to take hold, his name spills out of you, filling the dark silence.
In an instant, he’s awake enough to breathe your name in return, his voice husky with sleep as he asks, “You okay? S’wrong, doll?” Bucky’s aware it was probably another nightmare, or maybe a flashback, but he’s learned not to assume anything, giving you the space to decide if and how you want to be heard.
It’s not always that simple. Sometimes your voice can fail you, words getting trapped in your throat as you struggle to focus on the moment. You’re not even sure how to describe what’s happening, other than to admit that you feel on edge, like your skin is crawling, your body growing restless.
Bucky doesn’t need more explanation, his hand leaving its normal resting place on your thigh to slide along your back, his intention clear. His familiar touch draws the expected reaction out of you, a soft sigh of relief as a bit of tension leaves your body, his fingertips dancing across your shoulder blade.
Almost immediately you’re curling up, inviting him to keep going, his reverent touch spreading tingles across your skin. As intimate as it is, there’s nothing inherently sexual about it, Bucky wanting nothing more than to help you relax, to lull you back into a peaceful slumber.
Yet, your body seems to have other ideas, each tender caress of your back sending sparks of arousal to your core. It’s far from the first time, even over the past several days, but it’s yet another aspect of your relationship that gets thrown off balance during times like this.
Any other time, Bucky would read your subtle cues, happily accepting the silent invitation to touch more of you, to bring you unspeakable pleasure. Until you’re back on solid ground though, it’s not an option for him. He can’t risk pressuring you, the thought of adding more stress on top of everything you’re already struggling with too unbearable to him. 
You can’t exactly blame him. When the roles are reversed - when Bucky is dealing with his own trauma, ghosts of his past invading his mind - you follow his lead, offering him nothing more than a place to rest. A safe space, where he’s completely in control.
That’s what he’s been offering you since your brain decided to spend so much time in the past. Intimacy, in whatever form it takes, is on your terms, things never progressing unless you’re vocalizing your desires. 
Bucky’s patience is unyielding. No matter how much your soft, breathy noises of appreciation stir up his need for you, the path of his hand doesn’t alter. His fingertips continue to draw circles across your skin, exploring the contours of your back, as if he hasn’t already mapped every single inch of you. 
One of his favorite things is to touch you. To bring you comfort, to provide safety, and yes, when you allow him, to bring you pleasure. And right now, despite - or maybe because of - the turmoil broiling beneath the service, it’s what you need.
There’s a risk that things might overwhelm you. That you won’t be able to lose yourself in the moment. You try not to think about that, telling yourself that you at least deserve to try, knowing Bucky will help you through it, wherever it leads.
Your request for more remains subtle, a slight shift of your hips, pressing back into him, the evidence of his own arousal growing against your ass. Nothing changes for Bucky, his gentle touch following a trail up along your spine to the back of your neck, his thumb stroking a particular tense spot, refusing to take advantage of your trust in him.
There’s a part of you that wonders if you should just allow yourself to succumb to the sleep that’s threatening to overtake you again, but you miss him. And, as he drags the back of his fingers down to the dip of your waist, you moan softly, your thighs tensing with need, seeking out friction.
Bucky knows exactly what he’s doing to you, each pass of his hand along sensitive flesh making you tremble, goosebumps spreading across your skin. It’s not long before he’s able to smell you, the knowledge that his touch turns you on so much nearly enough to make him lose his resolve.
Somehow he remains steadfast, even as you shift again, arching your back and angling your hips to find more pressure, his erection trapped against the curve of your ass. There’s an ache building inside of him to grind against you, to give you what your body is so obviously asking for, your shuddering sighs encouraging him to keep touching you, waiting for permission that he knows might not come.
It’s more than okay if it doesn’t, Bucky content with easing your burdens in whatever way you’ll allow him. It’s a privilege he’ll never take for granted. 
As is the privilege of getting to bring you more pleasure. And the moment you whisper his name, followed by a barely audible utterance of “please,” he’s asking you what you need. Desperate to give you everything you desire.
It provides the catalyst to empower you to ask for more, telling him how good he feels as you shamelessly rub against him, Bucky’s own heavy breaths and words of love spurring you on. The gentle caress of his fingers never cease, tentatively dipping lower to tease along your hip, and you leave no room for doubt, quickly letting out a needy moan of “yes.”
His reaction comes as no surprise, your consent making him groan, his hard cock throbbing against you. You’re about to reach back, wanting to feel more of him, when you’re triggered without warning, your breath catching and your back stiffening, unwanted images flashing in your head. 
“Are you okay?”
The concern in his voice keeps you in place, choosing to ignore your body’s instinct to pull away, forcing yourself to breathe through it. As the silence tries to consume you, threatening to derail everything, Bucky’s hand on your hip helps you get the words out, the soft clearing of your throat letting him know a response is forthcoming.
“Yeah,” you finally whisper into the dark, grateful when he doesn’t move, his thighs flush against yours. “I don’t- I’m okay, I don’t wanna stop.” Before he can ask if you’re sure, your hand comes into contact with his arm, your fingers sliding down to gently take hold of his wrist, refusing to second guess yourself as you guide his hand higher up your body, showing him exactly what you want.
The heat of his hand cupping your breast brings you fully back into the present with him, ripping a strangled moan out of you, your back arching to grind harder against him.
“Fuck,” he exhales heavily, Bucky wasting no time in following your lead, your erect nipple pinched between his long fingers, his palm squeezing your tit as he murmurs soft words of praise. His ears are trained on you, listening for every noise he elicits, from the loud moans to the barely audible gasps, ensuring his touch remains welcome.
It’s everything you could possibly want, his leg soon finding its way between yours, Bucky barely getting a chance to ask you if it’s okay before you’re begging him to keep going. Your whine of pleasure drowns out his own noises of appreciation, his thigh pressed to your slick heat, his rock hard cock starting to leak pre-cum.
“You feel so good,” you whisper, one hand gripping the edge of the bed, giving you leverage to grind on his thigh, the fingers of your other hand still gripping his wrist, keeping him pinned to you.
“So do you, baby,” he moans in your ear, nudging his leg higher to find a steady rhythm against your swollen pussy, intent on drawing this out as long as you’ll let him. “Love when you ride my thigh like this, when you let me feel how wet you are.”
Your body takes over, chasing the high, Bucky letting you set the pace, his large hand palming your heavy breasts, the occasional pinch and playful tug of your nipples building you higher. He never lets the silence settle for too long, filling the moments between heavy breaths and barely coherent words with a string of praises, reminding you how much he loves every inch of you.
The darkness seems to amplify your senses, allowing you to get lost in the sensations, your walls pulsing with every delicious grind against your clit. You’re on the verge of begging him to fuck you, the words on the tip of your tongue when a wave of tension takes over, ruining all your plans.
Your hips falter the same time Bucky’s do, his gentle assurance of, “it’s okay,” calming your racing heart before it can beat out of control. Keeping his hand pressed to your stomach, you breathe through the confusion, trying to pinpoint the trigger before deciding to focus on how to move forward instead.
A request for more comes in the form of asking him to turn on a light, the need to see him overpowering everything else, and Bucky’s climbing off the bed, a lingering kiss and touch to keep you company until he returns. You’re kicking the covers off just as he clicks the adjoining bathroom light on, your eyes adjusting quickly to the soft glow now illuminating the room.
The irresistible image of you waiting for him has him returning to the bed within record time, his feet only pausing when his gaze drifts to his prosthetic arm, safe in its resting place in the corner of the room. He doesn’t always wear it to bed, your sex life never suffering without it, but he knows how much you enjoy having both his arms wrapped around you, the slight furrow of his brow telling you exactly what he’s thinking.
You interrupt the unspoken question, your voice pulling Bucky’s attention back to you, your unprompted words taking him by surprise. “I wanna ride you.”
“Oh really?” he asks, the former subject easily forgotten, a grin spreading at the eager nod of your head. He doesn’t need to be told twice, jumping onto the bed with a flourish, landing on his back with a soft thud, a giddy look plastered across his face.
“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh, getting to your knees beside him, not missing the way his eyes travel along your curves, the peak of his tongue wetting his lips giving you momentary pause, your thighs tensing with need.
Bucky’s obviously thinking the same thing, his laughter sending a thrill down your spine as he asks, “Whatcha thinking about ridin’, doll?”
You enjoy having his head between your thighs just as much as he does, the teasing flick of his tongue along his top teeth having you shaking your head at him. “Your cock, if that’s okay with you,” you tell him, the playful grin on your face masking your concern of being triggered again if you can’t see his eyes.
“Oh, no complaints from me,” he emphatically promises, offering out his hand to help you climb on top, your worry not lost on him. You’ve been through so much together, Bucky having learned to read your body, understanding your emotions even better than you sometimes. As obsessed as he is with you, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting you, he won’t push for it, especially not tonight.
Your bodies fit together perfectly, puzzle pieces interlocking like you were made for each other, his thick cock stretching you slowly with each roll of your hips, taking him inch by glorious inch. His firm grip on your thigh encourages you to keep going, his audible grunts and gasps filling your ears, unable to tear your eyes away from him.
“Jesus,” Bucky pants, his lashes fluttering every time you let him slide in just a bit deeper, his hips tense underneath you, determined to give you complete control. “Feel so good, baby. God, I love you.”
You’re quick to nod your head, your hands finding their way to his chest, allowing you to find an easy rhythm, your eyes nearly rolling back when he bottoms out inside of you. “Oh fuck,” you whine, your hips moving on autopilot, grinding in slow circles, soon finding the perfect pressure against your clit that has you trembling on top of him.
There’s something incredibly intoxicating about being in charge of your own pleasure, especially when Bucky could easily overpower you, the occasional twitch of his hips signaling just how hard he’s working to control himself.
It leaves you breathless, your body finding a quicker pace, the head of cock hitting that spot deep inside of you that has you seeing stars. When his name starts to fall past your lips like a prayer, his thighs tense, shifting underneath you, the new angle forcing out the words burning the back of your throat, “Bucky… baby, please. Please, fuck me.”
“Co’mere,” he growls, pulling you down on top of him, your palms finding purchase against the mattress on either side of his head, his eyes never leaving yours. With his arm wrapped around your waist, hand splayed across your lower back, he starts a slow pace, watching the pleasure play out across your face.
Bucky pulls out until your walls pulse, a prideful grin twitching at the corners of his mouth at how greedily you welcome him back in, his eyes darkening when he bottoms out, your thrusts soon meeting his.
“That’s it,” he pants, nodding his head, his hold on you grower firmer, doing his best to keep the right amount of friction against your clit. “Just like that, take whatever you need baby.” He’s aware your muscles are going to grow tired soon, your knees likely needing a break before long, but he refuses to stop until you tell him to, gritting his teeth with effort to hold his own orgasm back.
You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come close to the edge yourself, only for the feeling to fade, your mind threatening to spiral into unwanted territory. Until this very moment, you’ve done a good job at holding the unwanted feelings at bay, your desire for intimacy and connection driving your actions.
Except, that’s suddenly no longer the case, a particularly sharp burst of pleasure has you closing your eyes and before you realize it, everything’s come to a standstill. The unwarranted apology dies on the tip of your tongue, a heavy sigh of frustration leaving you as you quickly shake your head, sitting up to try to regain some semblance of composure.
“Sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs, taking hold of your hand to bring it to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles to soothe your anxiety. “Tell me what you need.”
You breathe heavily, your bodies still connected, Bucky nestled deep inside of you, your walls spasming uncontrollably around him. There’s no reason to push through this, to ignore your body’s obvious discontent, no matter how much you want to pretend you can handle this.
It’d be unfair to subject either of you to that inevitable discomfort. The only thing you can do is face it, admit that you’re not as strong as you’d like to admit, your independent nature wanting to fight you the entire way. A gentle clearing of your throat, followed by a rough swallow and you’re bringing your awareness back to the present, your eyes finally opening to meet his once again.
One look at him and it’s easy to find your voice, his warm smile breaking down your walls like they’re paper-thin. “I need to feel you on top of me.” To feel the comfort of his weight, the safety of his embrace.
Bucky’s more than happy to oblige, trusting that you understand your own needs, knowing you’ll tell him if it becomes too much. Guiding you back down on top of him, his lips find yours, pouring all his love and devotion into the simple act as he secures an arm around you, cradling you against him in order to roll you both over.
It’s not as seamless as either of you anticipate, your tense muscles and abundant wetness causing him to slip out. Neither of you are able to hide your exhales of disappointment, Bucky’s grin meeting your own when he lines himself back up, the head of his cock nudging your entrance, giving you every opportunity to change your mind.
As grateful as you are, it’s not needed, and your hips shift, telling him everything he needs to know, the nod you give him alleviating any lingering doubt. With his weight settling on top of you, his body aligned with yours, he slides his arm underneath your shoulder to cradle the back of your neck in his palm and finally surges forward, sinking back into your tight heat. 
Your unbridled reaction spurs him on, your gasps and cries of exquisite pleasure causing heat to race up his spine, his hips setting a familiar pace. He can’t stop himself from praising you, watching you start to fall apart for him, your walls fluttering around him with every deep stroke, his body grinding hard against your clit.
You cling to him, nails digging into his back, your orgasm just out of reach, sweat covering your body, the desperation written all over your face. You’re so close, Bucky’s loud groans and animalistic grunts usually enough to send you spiraling, his words causing more arousal to coat his cock, but there’s still something holding you back, your body on the verge of tensing again.
“Tell me I’m okay,” you gasp, your eyes locked on his, your hips meeting his thrusts, your body begging for release.
“You’re okay,” he promises, dropping his forehead to yours, his heavy breath fanning your face, using every ounce of energy to not succumb to the pleasure threatening to overwhelm him. “You’re okay, my sweet girl. You’re safe, I’m not going anywhere.”
His steady stream of assurance has you crying out, tears pricking your eyes, the familiar tingle starting to build to unbearable heights, surely about to tease you again. Bucky refuses to give up, fucking you through it, maintaining the perfect, consistent speed, his cock bottoming out each time, the sounds of your bodies meeting in a heated rush adding to the sensations coursing through you.
“There we go,” he groans, his grip on the back of your neck tightening, holding you in place as you start to tighten around him, refusing to let you push him out. “You feel so fucking good, sweetheart, just let go for me. You’re safe, you’re right where you belong.”
That’s all it takes, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your entire body tenses, your limbs wrapped around him, his movements never faltering, letting you ride out the intense waves taking over your senses. You’re not even aware when your voice returns to you, a string of incoherent noises filling the air as you come hard, sobbing from the onslaught of pleasure, Bucky not missing a single second of the glorious vision unfolding underneath him.
He doesn’t allow himself to let go until he’s sure it’s what you want, your gasping pleas triggering his orgasm. With a groan of your name, he pulls you into a fiery kiss, his hips thrusting just a few more times as his pulsing cock fills you with his release.
You've been reduced to heavy pants and trembling limbs, Bucky's body shaking against yours, more sweet utterances of love and devotion being shared as you both return back to reality.
For the first time in too long, you’re able to stay relaxed in his embrace, refusing to let him move for several moments, the weight of him pressing down on you keeping you grounded. It’s not until your lungs start to ache from lack of deep breaths that you relent, letting Bucky roll you both over, your bodies continuing to draw comfort from each other.
There’s no rush to clean up, no dire need to leave the bed, the two of you remaining there for as long as you want, your mind at ease, Bucky’s steady breaths and gentle caress of your back almost lulling you back to sleep. 
This time, there’s no need to fight it. You let yourself drift off, peaceful rest once again overtaking you, Bucky content to hold you for the rest of the night, promising to keep you safe wherever your dreams take you.
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Comments & reblogs very much appreciated!! 🩶
Main Masterlist
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bluesidez · 8 hours ago
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The Love Lab presents:
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[Is It Warm?]
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pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!Reader
summary: A stressed-out man deserves a stress-free encounter.
content warning: another PWP but it actually has plot...I should stop calling these PWPs, an uncomfortable scene at the beginning that involves a form of harassment, 18+ so MDNI, body worship (m receiving), thorough body massages, freeform? pegging, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), cum as lube, creampie
word count: 4.6k, halfway proofread
a/n: This is partially a birthday gift to myself and partially a part of the array of fics I wanted to get out before October was over for like...an all-month birthday celebration? School is getting in my way and October is over today, so.....that plan is soiled. But still! Enjoy this!
Here’s the Part 1 of this story! It’s not necessary to read, but it’ll add a bit of context.
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“Did you find it yet?”
“No, it’s still the same thing.”
You pout as Miguel digs further into bottom shelf, baskets rattling against him.
One of the stores you frequented was selling a new round of character-themed merchandise and, of course, they were quick to sell out.
This time around, Nueva York’s one and only Spider-Man’s suit would be worn by the different characters adorning the jars, cups, and blankets.
Nueva York’s one and only Spider-Man was also on all fours searching for the basket that your friend hid those multiple things in.
You had work in the morning, so you couldn’t camp outside and grab it as soon as the doors opened. You didn’t want to bother Miguel with something so small either.
However, he picked you up from work as a surprise with a bouquet of roses in one hand which led to the current predicament.
He saw how low the shelf was and didn’t want anyone to look under your skirt, so now you’re stuck staring at his ass filling out his jeans.
“Any warmer?” you ask.
“Maybe?” he mumbled, arch in his back deepening.
You fought the urge to rub your leg along the curve lest he bang his head and knock the entire shelf down. Instead, you folded your arms under your chest and shifted in your heels.
Since you ever so delicately brought him to new horizons, he’s been extra sensitive about your hands fondling that entire zone. He hasn’t really asked you to do it again.
It’s ok. He’s an extremely busy man and the last time, he was conked out and in a daze for a while.
Still, you were obsessed with how he looked from behind.
He starts to back up, pulling a woven basket out from behind the others. He places it on the ground. Once it’s opened, it’s as if the colorful world of cute, lovingly drawn characters was brought to you.
You clap your hands in excitement as Miguel stands up and places the basket in the small cart you’ve been pushing.
“The things I do for my girlfriend,” Miguel sighs as he dusts off his knees.
You wait until he stands straight and pull your arms around his neck to plead for a kiss. He pecks them twice and rubs your waist.
“Thank you, boyfriend,” you whisper with a smile.
Miguel purses his lips and nods, bashful.
You turn and drag the cart down the aisle, Miguel following behind with his warm hand nearly folded over your hips. You hum and comment about the things that you see, turning to look at him with big eyes when you really wanted something.
He’d give the occasional “You don’t need that,” but then there were the silent head-tilts when you described the use of a product so energetically.
“But baby, we could cuddle under this when we watch our shows! And these,” you pointed to some snail mucin you found, “we have to have this for our spa days.”
“That’s,” Miguel folded his arms, “correct. We need to keep our skin clear. And we need to keep warm.”
Errand days always turned to you to Miguel pulling items down and convincing you to get things that you didn’t need but absolutely wanted.
“What about this?” Miguel takes a bra from the rack, head turned toward the piece but eyes looking over at you.
“It’s cute, but I think I could find a cuter one somewhere else.”
“You’re right. I’ll just rip it off.”
“On second thought, add it to the cart.”
It’s about an hour before you both make it to the line for the register.
You’re trying not to add to the “annoying couple” demographic, but Miguel’s arms are holding onto the cart, enveloping you against his chest. You turn and look up at him and smile, giddy that he joined you on this errand run.
He kisses your head and hums along to the song playing through the store speakers. You lay on his chest and read along the products on the shelves next to you.
A man peeks at you over the shelf, eyes cutting into you before he smirks and walks away.
You shudder like you’re cold and make a disgusted sound before you turn your head.
“What’s wrong?” Miguel asks, guiding you and the cart further in line.
“Creepy guy,” you mumble into his chest.
Miguel frowns and turns, squinting around the store. He was definitely hiding now.
“I’ll handle it,” Miguel grunts.
You stay silent, knowing that once he’s set to do something, he won’t change his mind.
One day he quietly asked you “What use would having a boyfriend with superhuman powers be if I don’t use them to protect you?”
You’ve long stopped telling him to ignore things like this.
Another inch further in line and it’s almost time to pay. The guy lingers again by the entrance of the store. You lean your weight on Miguel, feet tired of your heels and anxious of how the next few minutes could play out.
Trying to understand his motive was nearly impossible: you were clearly with someone else with a large physique, clinging to him like a lifeline. That should have been a huge hint.
When it’s time to place your items on the counter, Miguel shifts his body so you don’t see the stranger. The two of you work chat to the cashier, joking about the many things you’ve bought.
With swift movements, Miguel pays for your items and carries your bag before you can even think to pay. He turns and waits for you to lock your arms through his, a habit grown from his need to be near you.
The entrance was empty, other people scattered throughout the store.
Maybe it was just a strange incident.
“Excuse me, miss. Would you mind helping me with something?” the guy asks behind you just when you think you’re in the clear.
“She’s good,” Miguel tells him, face stern.
“What, so she can’t answer for herself?”
You ball a fist up around the back of Miguel’s shirt, steadying yourself, “I can answer for myself, but we’re in a bit of a hurry. So, if you don’t mind, we’ll be out of-“
“I-It’s just that my daughter’s birthday is coming up,” the man holds his hands up frantically. “I have no clue what 10-year-olds like nowadays. I was wondering if you could help me choose something.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. This guy could be lying completely, but the thought of a little girl out there smiling as she ripped the paper off a present tugged at you.
Looking at Miguel, you could tell he was on the same wavelength.
“There is one thing that’s all the craze,” you say.
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Back in the store, you were sifting through the aisles again with your attentive boyfriend not too far behind. He was carrying all of your bags in his hands and on his shoulders so you could really make an honest effort to help.
Ten was that turning point where you either really loved imaginary toys or wanted nothing to do with then, perhaps a mix of both.
“She used to love these when she was younger,” the man pulls out a baby doll from the lower shelf.
There’s been about five things he’s mentioned all of which were geared towards a younger audience. He was so insistent that it made you wonder of he’s even talked with his daughter in the past five years.
“I’m not sure she would like this one. What about that?” you point to a popular plushie. It’s not the baby doll, but you’re sure his daughter would love it.
“Oh I don’t know…”
This back-and-forth continues for longer than you want it to. You could have been wrapped around your boyfriend like a koala while he talked about his day and instead you were stuck here.
“Sir, we really have to go,” Miguel intervenes, “I’m sure whatever you get your daughter, she’ll love it.”
The older man sneers, “You wouldn’t know a thing about that.”
“Excuse me?” your face changes, disturbed.
“Such a beautiful thing on his arm and no ring, no child. He’s slacking up,” he slides a hand down your arm. “My daughter could use someone like you-“
Miguel snatches his hand up from your arm, eyes almost glowing under the bright lights of the store.
“Are you insane?”
“Let go of me!”
The man tries to fight against Miguel but falls short as he keeps his cool. He’s only released when his body flashes in an array of blue and pink squares, knees hitting the ground.
Faster than you can comprehend what’s going on, Miguel drags him out of the door. You follow afterwards, apologetic to the confused employees.
“Do you just like to touch women for fun or is it exclusive to people that try to help you?” you can hear Miguel bark at him.
“I’ll have you reported to the authorities!”
“Yeah, yeah. Try and call the rent-a-cops,” Miguel’s lip never unfurled. He whipped out a phone. “Lyla?”
In a series of events, you watched the man go from Miguel’s grip to the stringy webs of Spider Scarlet.
“I see that this fellow is giving you trouble and sorrow,” Ben’s stunted tone crowded the stranger’s cries. “I’ll remove him quickly, no, swiftly. So that you both can have a wonderful night. Together.”
You can almost see the tension build in Miguel’s temple.
“Thank you. It’s much appreciated,” Miguel grunts. “I would like to move on with my night, please.”
“Of course, Bo- I mean hard-working citizen.”
He grabs the glitching stranger to swing back to HQ, a quiet wave to you before he left.
You laugh, feeling Miguel’s shoulders fall a bit.
“You ok, baby?” he takes your hands in his, bags lining his arms,
You nod your head, “I’ve had worst things happen. Could use some comfort, though.”
He gives a sympathetic smile and rubs a thumb across your cheek.
“Let’s get out of here.”
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Small, pesky incidents like this kept popping up.
An occurrence of a clown that stood in the gray parks holding a single balloon but doing nothing else, women with pixie cuts complaining about the prices of clothes, balding men with beer bellies and baseball caps: all of these people from different eras were spread across Nueva York.
While you’ve been going into work, keeping your schedule relatively normal, Miguel has been in and out.
It wasn’t a rare sight to come home to his empty penthouse, only the city lights and a talkative Lyla to keep you company.
Sometimes, you were woken up by his arms sliding around your middle and a kiss to the back of your neck, but by the time you woke up, he was gone again.
The life of a superhero’s girlfriend was a bit isolating, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Especially not the shocked look on Miguel’s face as he enters the living room one evening.
“What’s all this?” he asks, looking at the dimly lit lights and taking in the smell of something sweet in the air.
Music is playing from the speakers and Miguel is noticing how smooth the skin of your legs look from in between your silk gown. Taking advantage of his focus, you bend and remove the cloth from the table behind you.
“Ta-da!”
You stand there with your hands out, shaking them. It takes a lot to not jump like a star in excitement.
Miguel looks from you to the table.
“What is it?”
“What does it look like?”
“I meant, what is it for, honey.”
You lean on the massage table with your hip and hold your fingers up to count off, “Well, it’s for you. To relax. To unwind. To let me try out the skills I learned from that class my coworker gifted to me.”
Within the pause, you twirl four fingers in the air.
Miguel sits near the back on the couch with an exhausted look on his face, “Baby, thank you for the gesture, but I don’t know if-”
“Please! I think you’ll really, really love it. I can massage you right now while you’re not super busy,” you say as Miguel stands again. You bounce over in front of him, puppy-dog eyes on full display. “I only rented it for a few days!”
He looked to the ceiling and sighed, weak to the look on your face.
“Fine.”
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“Where is your robe at?” a freshly showered Miguel asks with an eyebrow raised. He still pans up and down your body, like he hasn’t explored it a million times over.
A few steps forward and his gaze is stuck on the way your sheer and short gown molds around your body.
There’s nothing underneath but your perfumed skin.
“That’s the perk of having your girlfriend give you a massage,” you say watching him stare at your chest. You take his chin in your hand and guide his face back to your eyes. “Right?”
“Mm hm.”
You snort and tell him to lay down
“Take your towel off, silly.”
Miguel obeys, white fabric pulled from under him with a blink of an eye. He lays it just above his behind.
“This is going to feel so good. I just know it,” you say, giving his back a light rub.
“Thank you in advance,” Miguel replies. He’s lying with his head on his arms, stress from work evident.
You’re really glad he’s letting you help him indulge in this break.
Grabbing the oil from the end table you pulled over, you pour some right on his back, fingers spreading along the pivots of his neck. You. stand in front of the head of the table and press your thumbs into his nape, earning a stunted noise from him.
A smile grows on your face, “I haven’t even really started, Miguel.” Your thumbs start to circle and he turns his face into the open hole.
“Stiff there. Too many screens to watch,” he says. “It smells good.”
“Give those pretty eyes a rest then,” you tut, adding your other fingers to the ones along his neck in an upwards motion.
Shea butter never fails you.
His neck slowly heats up and you giggle to yourself. One compliment and he turned into mush.
“What about here, hm?” shifting down to the tops of his shoulders. The muscles there pulled as tight as a rope. Adding pressure to them makes Miguel groan.
“’S good.”
“I bet,” you work into a knot, warm hands pushing into his skin. “There’s no telling how long this has been here.”
Miguel silently notes that maybe he should wind himself up more if he could end up like this again: pampered by his pretty girlfriend.
As quiet as he kept his running thoughts, his throat involuntary gave you real-time reviews.
Every slide of your knuckles nearly had him purring and your fingertips warmed him through to his bones.
His shoulders feel like air once you’re moving down his spine.
“I’m going to do something different,” your voice is lower so as to not disturb the atmosphere.
You hike one of your knees up on the edge of the table and climb over him, hovering as you asses his back.
Two hands cover his waist with thumbs almost touching each other on his spine. You let go of some of your weight and press your thumbs up his back.
Miguel’s voice vibrates through the room, an arch in his spine forming.
You repeat the action, earning an even louder response.
Moving to stroking in outwards motions from his spine to the sides, you wanted to pat yourself on the back. Miguel was so relaxed under you.
Though, you wanted to smack yourself for getting excited so early, the effect of his sounds making itself evident with how cold the air felt on your exposed lower half.
Switching to move your hands down his arms to hefty muscle of his shoulder blades, you hoped to distract yourself.
“Se siente tan bien,” Miguel sighed, airy and relieved. “I’ve been climbing a lot more this past week.” (That feels so good.)
The praise went straight to your clit.
“I’m glad, Miggy. I’ll work out some more tightness in your back and move down to your legs. Sound good?” you were trying your best to control your tone.
Miguel starts to answer but a stunted sound comes from his lips instead as you start to knead his back in small places.
Back and forth, you move across his skin, heart thumping in your chest.
By the time you got to his lower back, you awkwardly sat on the towel separating the two of you. You were sure it was dampening, but you hoped Miguel was too far gone to notice.
Your thumbs circle in the dips of his skin, his hips lifting up, making you brace yourself.
“Babe, you’re going to push me off,” you say as Miguel tries to glue his waist to your fingers.
“S-sorry,” hips stutter against the table before he lays down completely.
You pat his side as a form of forgiveness and inch off of the table. The towel over his ass was wrinkled, brown skin peeking from under it.
You grab more oil to start on the back of his thighs, a place that you know could carry his tension. With both of your hands focusing on his right thigh, you add pressure to your palms.
Miguel immediately jerked, grunting through his teeth.
“Woah, there,” you rub his leg softly. “Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“What’s wrong?”
He’s softly pushing out air as you continue back.
“It’s embarrassing. And rude,” he mumbles after a while.
You move down to his calf, his voice rising as you envelop his skin.
“What is?”
He huffs, turning his head, “I’m hard.”
Switching legs, you try not to show your giddiness.
“Nothing wrong with that. I think it’s a normal reaction.”
“Is it?” he shifts again when you massage the inside of his thigh, so close to the problem area. “The last time I got massaged was before…everything. It was never like this.”
You try to envision a younger, scrawny Miguel laid out on the table before you and giggle.
“Don’t laugh.”
“I’m not,” you say in between a quiet grin.
Miguel lifts his head a bit, “I can hear you smiling, amor.”
“Ok, how about this,” you remove the towel and softly cover his behind with your hands. “Can I massage here?”
Miguel looks back at you, eyes darker under these lights.
“Isn’t this a full-body massage?”
You bite your cheek to try and stop your face from lighting up, but it fails.
“Then, continue to relax, Mr. Spider-Man.”
“I prefer Mr. Boyfriend, actually.”
Humming, you push into the plushest parts of him, repeating the motion circle after circle.
You try to ignore his hole peering out every time you knead.
Miguel is breathing deeply, back rising and falling.
Looking down, you can tell that his earlier words were true. Poor thing was barely rutting against the table.
You slide a thumb on his taint, marveling at how he lets out a sharp gasp. The feeling makes him grind harder into the soft material.
“Please,” he whispers.
“Please, what, Mr. Boyfriend? Anything I can do to make your experience better?”
“I want,” you brush your finger over his hole and he groans. “Want more.”
You stop and grab the lone tile, wiping the oil from your hands.
Walking near his face, you lean down and kiss his ear, the skin heated, “This requires more facilities. One momento!”
Luckily for him, the dildo from the last time was already clean.
Coincidentally.
You grab it and some lube from the bedroom and rush back to Miguel who is sprawled out on the table.
“Sorry for the wait,” you say. “Let’s start back.”
With lube on your fingers, you rub a thumb over his hole, pressing until you breach past.
Miguel sighs, “Shock. I missed this.”
That surprises you, “Really?”
“Yes,” he moaned as you reach in further. “You make me feel good. I just didn’t have the time to enjoy it.”
Your heart soars, switching from your thumb to two fingers. The way his hips rise shows a beautiful line in his silhouette. When tell him such, he shudders.
“You always compliment me on the things I couldn’t care less for.”
“There’s beauty in all of you though, Miguel,” your words contrast how you’re digging into him, adding another finger and brushing past the ball of fire.
Miguel tightens his fists, pushing back against your hand, “Put it in me.”
“Do you like it when I praise you?” you ask, ignoring his request.
“You already know the answer. Por favor, bebé.”
He was getting whiny and you remembered that this whole endeavor was supposed to be for him, about him.
You climbed back over him, a palm pressed into his back, “I know, I know. I got you.”
“So needy,” you say as you lube up the pink plastic.
Miguel gears up to respond but you shush him when you glide the tip in.
Your name is on his lips, singing along with the melody of the instrumental playing in the background.
You pull your gown up a little, fur on the trim riding up your skin. You moan with him as you let the dildo go deeper.
From here, you can see the glow of his back, glistening under the candlelight from the oil that drives him crazy on you. The nape of his neck is starting to shine with sweat and his fingers are pressing into his palm so as to not puncture the table.
Continuing your movement, you move your wrist continuously, pushing into him and cupping your breasts to stop them from moving.
You’re drenched and when you slide your heat over his cheeks, the end of the dildo feels amazing against your clit. You hold the end of it close and move your hips along every thrust.
“Keep going,” Miguel says, reveling in the way you were getting off on top of him. “Don’t stop.”
Your hips move faster, hand on your chest moving to his back, nails digging into his skin. Your body leans over him, skin-to-skin separated by your thin gown.
No words can be formed as you listen to Miguel let out satisfied grunts, the sound of him covering and uncovering the dildo aligning with him.
You angle it so that it can slide along your folds before it enters him, keening into his skin every time.
“I love you so much, Miggy,” your nails scratch against him, your body tensing like he was the one pinning you into the table.
Miguel jerks, panting out, “Love you, too. Te amo mucho, ángel.”
You continue, Miguel’s words blending from begs for more to confessions of love.
When he reveals that he’s close, arching into you, you suck a kiss into his back, working your dildo past his prostate.
He groans, cum spreading under him. You pepper kisses across his back.
“Hm,” you got up and switch the dildo for a plug, squeezing a cheek for good luck. “I didn’t finish the massage.”
Miguel turns his body around, careful not to knock you off.
“You’re always up to something.”
He smiled, looking at your ruined gown, oil making it cling to you. He’s still hard, cum smeared across his lower abdomen.
You bring your face to his, kissing his lips while his hands slide up your hips.
“I’m just a little crazy when it comes to you,” you reply, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
Miguel moves his chin up, a hand coming to cover your neck.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You smiled into his lips, rubbing your nose against his. He laughed at the gesture and rubbed down your back.
“Shall I continue, Mr. Boyfriend?”
“I’m at your command, Ms. Girlfriend.”
You lean up and slowly pull your gown off of you. Miguel watches you, not missing a single moment.
“While I did have ideas of exactly how this massage was going to go,” you reach back and scoop up the milky liquid on his stomach. You take him in your hand and pump once, twice. “I think I’ll end it with a bang.”
When his tip goes past your entrance, his eyes roll back and his hands grab your hips instinctively.
Your head dips past your shoulders as you sit further, the feeling of him familiar but still overwhelming.
Your hips stutter as you try not to let the greedy feeling of chasing your orgasm come back so quickly. To fight it, you place your hands on his pecs.
“Usually, the chest massage is done in the opposite direction,” Miguel hikes his hips up as you try to get back into masseur mode, earning a high moan from you. “B-but you get special privileges today.”
You focus on applying pressure to his collar bones, working over a fading love mark.
Miguel isn’t having it as he holds your hips and snaps up.
“I think I have a more severe problem area,” he says as you push the skin of his chest towards his armpits. He wasn’t even tense there.
“And I’ll get to it-“
“You don’t understand,” Miguel says, locking his arms around you. “It’s serious.”
He thrusts up, delving into you like he was always meant to do so. You grip his shoulders and hold on, mind hazy at the shift.
“The prettiest masseuse in the world,” he breathes out. His eyebrows are scrunching up, ever so expressive. “My private one.”
“Yes,” you sigh, close from before. You’re turning into putty in his arms.
Arousal builds as he continues to work into you. Your mouth parts, unsure as to what was coming from your mouth.
“C’mon, baby. I know you’re there,” Miguel moves one hand to grip your shoulder. “‘M ready to pay you.”
You convulse around him, core swimming with his words.
He follows right after, hips attaching to you as he fills you up. The table creaks as he pumps a few more times into your lifted body.
When you both come down, your muscles feel like they’ve been reconstructed. Miguel lifts you off of his length, keeping you in the air for a bit just to watch him drip out of you.
“That’s a pretty steep payment,” you say once you’re lying on his chest.
Miguel snickers, “I’ll help you manage it later.”
“But before that,” you wave a hand in the air making a holographic screen with blue squares appear before you both. “Leave a tip?”
Miguel wipes it away as you cackle.
“You’ve ruined me for all future massages in a normal setting and you want a tip?”
“I’m just kidding,” you kiss his pout away.
“Besides,” you reach down and graze your fingers over him. “This tip is pretty good.”
“Only ‘pretty good’? Do you need another one?”
You put your eyes to the sky, thinking, “Let’s eat dinner and get away from the nearly ruined, rented table first.”
Miguel smiles softly, “Good idea.”
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dividers by: @/adornedwithlight @/inklore
a/n: I think I would like to consider this story, Is It Tight?, and Wash Day all in the same universe.
Sorry to the people in my taglist who don’t really rock with pegging. It probably won’t happen again. 😭
taglist: @questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @slushycoookie @calig0sto @ghost-lantern
@tatatida @haveclayeveryday @corpsenightmarebride @samjinxx @earth2fae
@maiyart @feegrh32 @darkstalight82 @ladysimp @vmpz8sauceee
@leonsbimbogf @unwrittenletter @madeofstar-dust @leoeloo @just-simpins-blog
@poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhideout @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot
@tojishugetiddies @pigeonmama @av3da @prettygirleli @koikohib
@jaykookies @snails-doodles22 @xo-zeze @plantxella @thedevax
@f1-hoff @stressed-cherry @mozzella @appledressing @abbbbbysvt-17
@woahhajime @vicravluv @xodeity @somniasworld @obsessgurlll
@starboygf @undf-stuff @bmoplanet @alexxavicry @ladysimp
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streetlvght · 2 days ago
Text
the warmth of a hearth | scb
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pairing: seo changbin x reader (one-shot)
genre: tooth rotting fluff, no really i mean it
warnings: none except for some cuddling, smooching, binnie lovingly being a menace, reader being cuddly
word count: 875 words
a/n: so. so :} hi! this is my very first piece of writing since.. forever (ye olde days of rp back in the day) and essentially a mishmashed love letter to binnie! i don’t know what came over me to bring this out of the catacombs it’s been marinating in. binnie’s is such a cuddly guy i just wanna squeeze him (affectionately) and it’s manifested into this thing existing (malicious). also falling asleep on his chest would proooobably fix me. probably.
all photos have been taken from pinterest!
warm.
warm, warm, warm.
your sheets were always warmer when he was in them.
his chest was a curling light in your eyes, heart thumping under your ear. if you squeezed your eyes hard enough and shut out the sound, you could feel it buzzing in his skin. flowing from his forearms, down his wrists and through his fingers. they drew up and down your side, almost floating. if he moved a hair of an inch’s away from you, a whine would fill the air, “too far. come back,” and as always, he’d comply.
“you’re gonna suffocate, y’know.” changbin snorted at the shapes you nosed between his pecs, a tickle wedging under his ribs. he knew it you were at your most comfortable in his hold, free hand stroking the back of your head. he would hem and haw, whine and complain playfully when he got too hot but never willingly unwind himself from you.
“mmm, aaand?” the half mumble obscured by the worn cotton of his shirt somehow made the man snort harder, if not for the upward inflection. as if you wouldn’t be satisfied with siphoning off his body heat and nuzzling into him for the rest of your lives. you wouldn’t.
“what if i want to see my pretty yeobo’s face, mmh?”
he knew how to work you, the scamp of a man. how he’d worm his way in through you and knock on the inside of your chest. and much to your chagrin and his enjoyment, it worked every single time. you huffed, an indignant grumble wedged against him despite the way your feet overlapped his own.
“aren’t you used to it already?”
you could just about feel the haughty gasp he let out even at your half jibing words, literally clutching his figurative pearls. changbin? being used to you? especially when you were practically a limpet a fused to his body?
it was impossible, simply and utterly impossible.
“yah, how could you even say such a thing?”
the smile in his voice was more than noticeable over his outrage, just about resisting the urge. you knew the way changbin’s cheeks ruffled up when he smiled, his dimple prominent and that downward curve to his lips. all the more when he annoyed you lovingly.
a grumble pushed deeper into his shirt, drawing a nasal tinkling laugh out of him. it interrupted the spirited rant he was amping up, too busy (and infatuated) to fully go on a tirade. all you wanted to do was bury yourself in his cosmic heater of a body and begin to fossilise against his chest.
was that so bad?
“binnnnnnnie!” the drawling whine from your lips made the arc of joy in his chest leap higher, bowing under your head with his laughter. it made you smile despite trying not to, head rising from his chest to meet his eyes. those coffee brown eyes you were so certain there were stars embedded in he got you up, he got you.
“bun—nyyyyyy!” he whined in kind, tone mirroring your own. there were equal parts schadenfreude and equal parts pure affection in them, so bare and unfiltered. it wasn’t even a question, even in his arms, the stocky man loved your eyes on his. your attention, your lips. your lips.
those dolly lips of his curved up just for you, your palm travelling to the plushness of his tummy. he knew how much you loved it, loved him and all of him. digits finding the shape of your own, he squeezed once. you squeeze back twice. the glassy look in his eyes he always got when his love for you was validated by a simple action. it usually followed a deep kiss you’d feel in your chest, your lips finding the semi-circled scar on his chin making the man all but gasp instead.
the needy look you’d sported earlier was turned on you, palm sliding up to card through his messy curls. his lips instinctively curled into a little pout, popping at you like a little fish under water. it was hard to say no to changbin, more so when he looked like you hung every star in the sky just for him.
and the sweet nothings you muttered so sweetly against his lips proved every single point. so much so without question and red tipped ears he chased your lips for another kiss and another until all his world consisted of were the bedsheets and you.
“mhm, c’mere, you little troublemaker.”
with all the gentleness of a man whipped, changbin tucked you back against his chest. back in your safe space and him in yours. not a single peep or protest out of the either of you. there could be nothing better than the love of your life in the palm of your hands, bodies so close you could be mistaken as one.
the worst feeling was a space once occupied now bare, a slip of the hand after being held too long or a empty space in bed come morning. not on a crisp night with a nip in the air and rustle of dried leaves outside your window.
you could always trust him to keep you warm. especially on nights like these.
thank you sm for taking the time out and reading my work! feel free to drop into my asks if you wanna froth about bin or otherwise :D
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harrywavycurly · 7 hours ago
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Lonely request!! Bachelorette instagram posts that make Harry not only miss his bestie turned fiancé but also kinda concerned because what exactly are they doing in Miami 😂❤️
Hiiii babes!!! So I combined both of these into a little something and I hope you enjoy it! 💖
Find all things Lonely here✨
CW: Mentions of drinking
Tag List: @blckburd @fangirl509east @ell0ra-br3kk3r @youngpastafanmug @mattieshattuck1
A/N: Harry misses you and if he’s being honest he’s just curious what all you’ve gotten up to while in Miami, enjoy some fluff and if you squint you’ll see some jealous Harry✨
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Harry lets out a sigh as he runs his free hand that’s not holding his phone through his hair, a small smile creeps its way onto his face as a photo of you quickly flashes across his screen in a pair of heart shaped bedazzled sunglasses that say “bride to be” on them as you lay out next to a pool. It’s only been two days since you left for your Miami bachelorette trip with Niall and the rest of the bridesmaids and he’s been glued to his phone checking instagram what feels like every five minutes to see what you’re doing, like right now he’s on Niall’s instagram story and can see you’re having a themed lunch of some sort while yesterday all you really did according to your social media was have a pool day and went to a nice little dinner. Niall made it quite clear to Harry that while you were off in Miami his communication with you was to be limited, it’s your bachelorette trip and to quote your bestfriend you “don’t need your future husband up your ass the whole time” so Harry is trying his hardest not bother you and he’s done well so far but it’s only day two and he’ll be honest, he already misses you terribly.
Normally Harry has things like studio time or if he’s lucky a tour to prep for to help distract him in situations like this, but he’s not currently working on anything at the moment so he has nothing but time to sit on the couch and scroll through everyone’s Instagram for even the smallest little crumb of a detail of what you’re up to. He doesn’t expect you to be doing anything too scandalous because that’s just not who you are, but still it’s your bachelorette trip and Harry’s been privy to a few of those types of parties so he knows how wild those can be. But really Harry simply wants to know what that Irishman planned for you because he kept most of it to himself not even telling you the majority of the plans besides what you needed to know in order to know what to pack. And Harry knows if there’s one thing Niall can do, it’s plan one hell of a party so to turn it into a full blown trip only makes him even more curious what he has up his sleeve for you. So when Harry is scrolling on your page and sees you’ve posted a few new photos he feels his eyes go a bit wide before he runs a hand over his face and lets out a laugh as he shakes his head.
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He likes both photos and starts to scroll but before he gets far he feels his phone begin to vibrate and soon your name and photo is filling up his screen making a grin take over his face. Harry quickly hits answer and brings the phone up to his ear and is met with the sound of laughter making him wonder if you didn’t mean to call him.
“Harry?” You mumble as Harry hears what sounds like a door closing making the loud laughter turn into a muffled sound in the background. “S’that better? I can’t hear you.” Harry chuckles as he begins to realize what kind of call this is.
“Hi my love.” He can practically hear you smile into the phone as you let out a long dramatic sigh as he hears a ruffling sound making him think you probably just plopped down onto a bed.
“I can hear you now-oh did you know m’gon a be a wife? Like someone’s actual wife.” Harry just grins as the slightly mumbled words fall from your lips and he wishes he was there because he’s always loved being around you when you were a little drunk, you always tended to be more cuddly.
“Yeah? You getting married baby?” He asks sweetly as he gets comfortable on the couch, you let out a giggle that makes his heart feel like it’s going to actually melt due to how adorable you sound.
“Yes.” You answer with a smile on your face as you roll over into your back. “T’you silly.” Harry lets out a scoff as he playfully rolls his eyes as if you could see him making you laugh. “Did you forget about me? I’ve only been gone two days.” You ask with a huff and Harry knows there’s a good possibility you’re pouting and he can’t help but want to laugh because if you only knew how he’s been essentially cyberstalking you since the moment you left the house two days ago, you wouldn’t feel the need to ask him this question.
“You still want to marry me then?” He hears you let out a groan and he smiles to himself because he knows you’re rolling your eyes at him. You always act so annoyed when he asks you this question but he knows you kinda love to hear him need the reassurance that you still want to be his wife in a few months.
“Yes and I even-oh my god I forgot to tell you!” You sit up and Harry hears what he knows is the sound of your slippers padding across the floor as you walk towards the bathroom that’s attached to your bedroom. “We had a brunch thingy and guess what was on the napkins next to the cheese and crackers.” You reach over and grab your drink off the vanity just as Harry is about to answer. “Dicks. Like little tiny cute-”
“Tiny and cute? These are words you use to describe dicks often or just the ones on napkins?” The grin that takes over Harry’s face makes his cheeks hurt as your laugh comes through the phone and he knows it’s the kinda laugh that’s going to leave you with pink cheeks and watery eyes.
“Don’t worry I don’t use those words to describe yours I use-”
“Who the bloody fuck are you talking to?” Harry rolls his eyes at Niall’s loud voice in the background and he knows he only has a few minutes left on the phone with you.
“Uh my lawyer?” Harry bites back a laugh at your sad attempt of a cover up. “He uhm needed my signature on a-a uh prenup thing-thingy.” If Harry was there he’d have the hardest time taking what you just said seriously because your words are slightly slurred and your tone makes it seem like you just asked a question instead of explaining yourself, so he knows Niall is more than likely staring at you with a raised brow and a glare.
“He called you did he?” Niall asks and Harry knows right then that you’re done for. “Babe your lawyer is a woman named Janet.”
“Oh fuck Harry he caught me.” Harry laughs and can only shake his head at your admission, he hears Niall let out a laugh and then hears him tell you something along the lines of hurry up. “I gotta go back to my party.”
“You called me in the middle of your party?”
“I did. I miss you.”
“I miss you too baby. I love you.”
“I love you too but I have to go now before Niall comes back and steals my phone.” Harry knows you’re not kidding, Niall would very much enjoy barging into your room and taking your phone for the remainder of the trip so he just lets out a soft sigh and clears his throat before telling you goodbye and that he loves you one more time before the two of you hang up.
The next two days seem to drag on as Harry does as much as he can to busy himself as an attempt to give himself a break from checking on you via social media every few minutes. Even going as far as inviting Mitch over for an impromptu writing session that lasted a few hours, and while it helped for a bit but as soon as he was waving bye to his friend as he backed out of the driveway Harry couldn’t help but slide his phone out of his back pocket as soon as he was back inside the house. He lets out a sigh as he paces the length of the couch in the living room, chewing on his bottom lip as his thumb hovers over the icon of the app he’s become very familiar with the past several days. Giving into his desires Harry lets his thumb hit the app bringing him to his home page of his Instagram, he pauses his pacing as he places a hand on his hip and looks off towards the kitchen with a raised brow.
“Have I always been clingy like this?” He mumbles to himself as he contemplates going straight to your profile or looking through one of your friend’s first. “No certainly not? It’s because she’s my fiancé now right?” Normally Harry would feel a bit odd talking to himself but at the moment he can’t be bothered because he needs to have some sort of dialogue going in order to help him not feel as clingy and obsessed with you as he begins tapping his way through Emily, one of your bridesmaids instagram story.
“It’s normal to want to see what your fiancé is doing while away and-what was that?” Harry is caught off guard by what he sees on his screen and it’s gone much too quickly for his liking so he simply taps a few times and brings his phone up closer to his face so he can get a better look at the slightly blurry boomerang on Emily’s story.
Now Harry knew that one of the major things planned for this trip was a boat day, it was the main detail that Niall actually let you help him plan because he didn’t want to pick something to do that you’d be miserable with and honestly who doesn’t enjoy a day relaxing in the sun on a giant boat with a few friends? But what Harry didn’t put together in his mind was that with a boat day comes boat attire, which means he wasn’t at all prepared to see a blurry boomerang of you in what appears to be a white and silver bikini with the word “bride” printed in black on the bottoms in a pretty cursive font while you dance around with a drink in your hand and a bedazzled headband that has a mini veil attached to it. He has no shame in admitting he watches the blurry boomerang about ten times before he finally moves on through the rest of Emily’s story, hoping to see more of your outfit but he’s disappointed when he reaches the end and the only other photo he sees of you is just of your hand holding a drink that showcases your engagement ring with the words “blinded by the bling” and while it makes Harry chuckle it’s not exactly what he’s wanting to see, but that’s when he notices someone familiar in the background and instantly goes to her profile.
“Don’t let me down Gem.” He whispers to himself as he goes to his sister’s Instagram and he smiles when he sees she has quite the long story and most of it is for her close friends meaning it’s probably of the trip she’s currently on with you.
His sister being invited to your bachelorette trip wasn’t shocking, the two of you get along great and she’s in the wedding but Harry won’t lie and say he’s not a little jealous that she gets to be around you right now while he’s stuck at home, hell even his mom is going to be there on the last two days so she can celebrate you agreeing to spend forever with her son. So the least Gemma could do in Harry’s opinion is post some shots of you enjoying your boat day in your lovely little bridal bikini.
“Holy shit.” He reaches down and grabs the back of the couch for support as he finally gets exactly what he’s been looking and hoping for. It’s a photo of you laying out on a lounge chair with a grin on your face and the same heart shaped sunglasses on that he saw you wearing a few days ago and the sun is hitting your swimsuit just right causing the silver bits to shine and you have a slice of watermelon in your hand that isn’t holding a drink and Gem has written “The Watermelon Sugar Bride” and included the song in the background of the story as well. Harry taps through his sister’s story and smiles when he gets to a video of the two of you singing along to one of his songs until you spot Niall and Tammy in the background making funny faces making you tell them to fuck off resulting in Gem saying “excuse me! This is a family show.” And without missing a beat you turn to face her camera and wiggle your eyebrows as you go “or is it?”
“That’s my future wife right there.” Is all Harry says with a grin as he goes through the rest of Gem’s story laughing at the random photos of Niall who constantly looks a little worried as he’s looking at you or one of the girls. He decides to go to Niall’s profile to see what he’s posted recently and he laughs at the captions before liking them.
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It feels as if you’ve been gone for months when really you’ve been gone for five days but Harry can’t hardly contain the excitement he feels knowing you’ll be home tomorrow. He knows you’ve had a great time and really enjoyed yourself, his mom FaceTimed him last night while at dinner so he could see everyone and you looked almost like you were glowing with how adored Harry knew you felt in that moment. You had a smile on your face and a certain sparkle in your eyes that made Harry’s heart swell because you just looked so happy, and since you were coming home tomorrow Niall wasn’t as strict with his rules on communication so it didn’t shock Harry at all when he saw your name flash across his phone screen while he was making coffee.
“Good morning sweetheart.” He says with a smile as he reaches for the sugar next to the coffee maker. He hears you let out a little yawn letting him know you’re probably still tucked in bed, he puts you on speaker so he can spoon some sugar into his mug and stir it in without having to mess with holding the phone up to his ear.
“I can practically smell the coffee through the phone and it’s rude.” You whine making Harry chuckle as he brings the mug up to his lips to take a sip to see if it needs anything else.
“Where’s that bestie of yours hmm? Isn’t he on coffee duty while I’m not around?” He asks after taking another sip and he hears you let out a groan as you roll over to your back.
“He’s so bad at making coffee.”
“I beg your pardon? I make it how a normal human is s’posed to drink it you caffeine goblin.”
“No you make it all watered down and-”
“Watered down? I add two scoops for every four cups of water that’s the proper way to make it.” Harry just goes about his business and pops a bagel into the toaster as you and Niall argue over the right way to make coffee, it doesn’t shock Harry that Niall is with you in bed at such an hour because he’s always been an early riser so of course he’s going to go to your room for some morning cuddles before everyone else wakes up especially since Amelia sadly wasn’t able to stay the whole trip and had to leave a few days early he doesn’t like having an empty bed.
“I’m the bride Niall you’re supposed to just make it how I like it.” Harry raises a brow at your statement and not even a second passes before you’re in a fit of laughter and he can’t help but just shake his head because he knew you weren’t being serious.
“Harry you ready to have her back mate?” Niall asks as he takes the phone from you and Harry just smiles to himself as he takes the bagel from the toaster and puts it on his plate. “Because I’m ready to be rid of her.”
“Oh please you’re going to miss me the moment you drop me off at home and you know it.” Harry laughs at your accusation because if Niall is anything like him then it’s true, he’s going to miss you the moment you’re away from him especially after spending so much time with you on this trip.
“I’m very ready to have her back yes.” Harry answers as he picks up the phone after taking it off speaker. “I’m never letting her go on a trip without me again.” He teases making Niall laugh while he hears you mumble something about him being clingy.
“Well I gotta go make some shit coffee so here’s your missus but make it snappy yeah? We have plans for today.” With that Niall gives you back your phone and Harry hears the sound of a door open and close letting him know you’re alone in your room now.
“I get to see your face tomorrow and I think I might cry because I really have missed you so much and I don’t know why but this trip just-it just made it all feel so real? We get married in just a few months as in you’re going to be my husband and I’m going to really be your wife.” Harry does his best to hold back his emotions as your words hit him, he had a feeling that this trip was going to be a big deal for you because just a few weeks prior you had found your dress and had your first bridal moment so being surrounded by your friends and loved ones all celebrating the fact you’re a bride to be he knew was just going to be a lot. “You really love me enough to want to be with me forever.” He clears his throat and blinks a few times to help get himself in order before he can respond.
“I love you so much that I don’t think forever is actually long enough but it’s a start.” He knows you just rolled your eyes at how corny he sounds but he also knows your cheeks are pink and you have a smile on your face because you love it when he says things like that to you. “I can’t wait to be able to call you my wife. And honestly baby I’ve missed you so much I’ve been stalking you on Instagram all week and I’m probably going to cry the moment I see you get out of Niall’s car because I can’t help it.” He admits with a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair and he smiles when he hears you let out a small chuckle.
“You’re like obsessed with me aren’t you?” You ask with a slight tease to your voice but Harry just shrugs as he grabs his coffee mug and brings it up to his lips.
“Just a little bit.” He answers without hesitation making you smile because even though you don’t say it, both of you know you’re just as obsessed with him.
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eliotlime · 2 days ago
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End of October Update
There's got to be a less clunky way for me to title these things but maybe I'll figure it out after a few posts.
Anyway at the top of the order I want to say that uh... the Abacelsus zine is not happening by halloween unforch.. I just started school part-time and it being part-time is still kicking my ass! So tentative release date will be on 11th November unless something else happens....
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On the plus side I'm done with the cover so all that's left is the back page and cramming all 24 pages full of drawings 👍
-> As I've said at the end of my previous post I want to make more blog style posts so here's me trying to do that, more under the cut
🔐Abacelsus Zine
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I'm still deciding on whether i want to print it A5 or B5 but I'm leaning towards A5, though for the digital release it doesn't really matter lol
As mentioned, I'm done with the main cover so I just need to fill this entire thing with stuff, I said 24 pages but really the total page count is 30. I'm just not counting the cover and the blurb stuff.
I'm half taking a break with this at the risk of burning myself out and half paralysed with starting it. Plus I've kind of been more into Axl & I-no hilariously but I'll always love A.B.A. I think the lack of any real info really lends her well to interpretation which is always fun.
I've never really been one to engage in fandom so I'm probably going to be doing my own thing. That being said if anyone has any suggestions feel free to drop them in my strawpage or ask box :)
🥤 Strawpage & General Socials
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The bugs make my pages so decorative, I gotta draw more bugstyle guys.
Speaking of strawpage, I made one of those! It was really fun, I have a short OC info tab with descriptions of some of my main guys. I'd love for you to check it out.
This kind of acts as my ask box for twitter since there's not one there and apparently it's basically my main social media site these days so I'm just mirroring my experience here over there too.
Hilarious timing considering that it's basically collapsing on itself once again, I'll probably still be on that damn site until it implodes but I also have a Bluesky account for those that care about it.
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The sky follower bridge extension is really useful for bulk following people from twitter to bsky
I'd love to post there more but there's not a queue function and that's very important to me as someone who is not American and lazy to remember optimal timings.
Did you see? I also have a new pinned for this blog! Wanted to make a new one for a while now, always thought the old one was so freaking long. All the old info is still on my about and faq page though I don't know who actually looks at those.. a relic from years past..
☹ School
Sigh, like I mentioned earlier I'm doing school again! At my big age, but I'm having fun so far! It's part-time but it's still kicking my fucking ass! It's the main reason why I'm a little disoriented this month honestly.
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Do you like it? I spent an entire Sunday making my class miro board look niceys and then proceeded to get nauseous from cybersickness afterwards LOL
I'm doing a UI/UX course and I have to say the funnest part about it is making personas, it's like making OCs. Don't particularly like writing though.. but also that's a lie considering the numerous amount of paragraphs in this blog post alone haha
🎁 Merch
I've also gotten confirmation that I'll be boothing again next year in Febuary! So I gotta start locking into making more stickers and general merch. I say this a lot but I do need to look into opening an online store because I just have tonnes of stickers and stuff lying around waiting till the next time I do a convention which is kind of a shame.
Oh, but I will say that if you are from Singapore and would like anything from my previous convention catalogue feel free to shoot me a DM on instagram and I can mail it to you locally, shipping's $2 SGD.
➰Closing Thoughts
All in all, been kind of busy this month with school and various loose threads from September but overall I think I'm doing better! I've also been cooking lately and truthfully that's my biggest achievement this month haha, been also getting really into canned fish. Yummy!
Oh and a last thing is that I've been itching to animate again so I'll end this post with a WIP of a gif I did last night/morning. I almost always never finish my animations but here's hoping this one actually makes it to the colouring stage haha
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No prizes to anyone who can guess who these two because of course.
Thank you for reading! I know I can't expect everything to be done in a single month but I just wish I could do everything without getting tired or cybersick! If you'd like to support me, here's my ko-fi page and my itchi.io & gumroad as well.
If you have any questions or just generally want to talk to me, my DMs and askbox is always open! Any professional enquires can be sent towards my email as well: [email protected]
XOXO, Stay weird!
-Eliot :)
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badger-tales · 13 hours ago
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Eddie Watch//E.M x Reader
Chapter 1/18
A/n: okay so way back in the day (2022) when stranger things season 4 was still being released I wrote this fanfic and its been on wattpad for ages but I re-wrote it recently and wanted to post it here!!! Also I'm posting from my phone bc my laptop still wont work!!!
Summary: Despite wanting to stay and fight, Y/n is assigned to Eddie Watch to make sure he 'doesn't Do anything stupid.' Reluctantly she agrees. Everything's fine. Everything's good. It's all just perfect.
Word count: 3.6k
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"Let me get this straight," she said, leaning forward over the worn cafeteria table. The ambient noise of chattering students and clattering trays seemed to fade as she fixed her gaze intently on her younger brother. Her eyes narrowed, giving him the impression of an intense interrogation rather than a casual lunchtime conversation. "You want me to be a stand-in for your Hellfire Club because Lucas bailed on you guys, and if you don't find a replacement, Eddie is going to kick your ass?"
Dustin let out an exasperated sigh, his shoulders slumping dramatically as he threw his arms up in frustration. "Yes, Y/N, those are the exact words that just left my mouth," he replied, his tone dripping with teenage annoyance. He ran a hand through his curly hair, making it stand on end even more than usual. "So, are you going to help us or not?"
A sly smile played on her lips as she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms thoughtfully. She pretended to mull over his request, even though she had already decided. The prospect of diving back into a Dungeons & Dragons campaign for the first time since she was fifteen—since those long nights in Mike Wheeler's basement—was too tempting to pass up. But there was no harm in making Dustin sweat a little.
"What's in it for me?" she asked, arching an eyebrow mischievously. She watched as a look of mild panic crossed his face, clearly unprepared for negotiations.
She had to suppress a chuckle at the glare he shot her way, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Uh... cool shirt?" he offered hesitantly, the confidence in his voice wavering. It was more of a question than a promise.
She held his gaze for a moment longer, letting the silence hang between them. Then, a grin broke across her face. "Yeah, sure. My schedule's free. What time does it start?"
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Dustin exclaimed, relief washing over his features. He practically bounced in his seat. "It starts at four-thirty. Do you still have all your stuff?" he asked eagerly, already standing up as if ready to sprint off.
"Of course I do," she replied, rolling her eyes affectionately at his enthusiasm. "And I'm expecting that shirt before the campaign, by the way," she called after him as he hurried away, giving her a thumbs-up over his shoulder as he weaved through the crowded cafeteria.
---
Back at home, she sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, surrounded by the familiar clutter of posters, books, and trinkets collected over the years. God, it had been too long since she'd even thought about this binder—three years, in fact. The last time she played was November 6th, 1983—the night Will went missing. A soft smile touched her lips as she opened the worn cover, flipping through pages filled with character sheets, campaign notes, and doodles along the margins. She paused at a drawing Will had made of their party during one of their most grueling campaigns, his artistic talent capturing the spirit of their adventures perfectly.
Finding her dice set proved more challenging. She rummaged through drawers and boxes, the minutes ticking by faster than she'd realized. Just as she was about to give up, she remembered the small shoebox tucked under her bed. Pulling it out, she lifted the lid to reveal a treasure trove of memories: a few ribbons from old competitions, faded Polaroids capturing moments frozen in time, and there, nestled among them, her favorite set of dice. She used to have several sets, but over the years she'd given them to Dustin or misplaced them. This particular set—a swirl of deep purple and gold—was her lucky charm.
Glancing at her watch, her eyes widened. 3:45 PM.
"Shit!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. Hastily, she stuffed her binder and dice into her bag, bolting out of her room. She nearly tripped down the stairs, snatching her car keys from the hook by the door.
She sped down the streets of Hawkins, the familiar scenery flashing by as she perhaps ignored a few traffic laws in her rush. Pulling into the Hawkins High parking lot, she spotted Dustin waiting on the steps, arms crossed and an impatient look on his face.
"Took you long enough," he said, thrusting a folded shirt into her hands. The black fabric bore the emblem of the Hellfire Club—a design that was both ominous and intriguingly detailed. "Hurry up and get changed, or we'll be late."
"It's not going to take me thirty minutes to get changed," she retorted, rolling her eyes as she pushed past him and headed into the school.
---
"Now, Y/N, I need you to understand something," Dustin said, halting her just outside the imposing double doors of the club room. The hallway was dimly lit, fluorescent lights flickering overhead with a faint buzz. Lockers lined the walls, adorned with a collage of stickers and graffiti. Dustin shifted nervously, glancing around before focusing his gaze on her. "These guys are major nerds—not like cool nerds like Mike and me, but textbook nerds," he began to ramble, his words tumbling over each other in his haste to explain.
She raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Dustin, get to the point," she interjected, crossing her arms over her chest. The distant sound of a basketball bouncing echoed through the empty corridors, a stark contrast to their hushed conversation.
He took a deep breath, running a hand through his curly hair. "My point is, I doubt these guys have even spoken to a girl they aren't related to. So just cut them some slack if they're weird around you," he confessed, his cheeks tinged with a slight blush.
She chuckled softly, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet hallway. "Got it. I'll try not to terrify your friends," she teased, giving him a playful nudge on the shoulder.
Relieved, Dustin nodded and turned toward the doors. With a dramatic flourish, he pushed them open. "Our savior is here!" he proclaimed loudly, his voice echoing off the high ceilings as he kicked the door wider. The room fell silent almost instantly, the low murmur of conversation and the clatter of dice coming to an abrupt halt. It was as if someone had pressed pause on a remote, freezing the scene.
Rows of mismatched tables were pushed together to form a large gaming area, strewn with character sheets, scattered dice, and an array of snacks. Posters of fantasy landscapes and mythical creatures adorned the walls, their colors muted in the dim lighting. A haze of dust particles danced in the shafts of evening light filtering through the small windows.
Dozens of eyes turned to stare at them, a mix of curiosity, surprise, and suspicion evident on the faces peering over Dungeon Master's screens and stacks of rulebooks. It felt like walking onto a stage mid-performance.
"Hi, Y/N!" Mike called out enthusiastically from his seat near the center of the room, his face breaking into a wide grin. His lanky frame was hunched over a well-worn Player's Handbook, and he waved energetically, causing a few stray papers to flutter to the floor.
She returned his wave with a warm smile, feeling a bit of the tension ease from her shoulders. "Hey, Mike," she replied, her voice steady despite the dozens of eyes still fixed upon her.
"Who's this?" a boy with thick glasses and a skeptical expression demanded from across the room. His tone carried a hint of indignation, as if her presence was a breach of some unspoken rule.
Dustin stepped forward, undeterred. "The one and only Y/N Henderson—aka my big sister, aka the best D&D player to grace this planet," he declared with unabashed pride, puffing out his chest dramatically.
She laughed lightly, shaking her head at his antics. "You're so dramatic, Dustin," she chided, reaching over to tug the brim of his cap down over his eyes. He sputtered in protest, pushing it back up with an indignant huff.
"So you're the elusive Y/N Henderson," a smooth voice drawled from the head of the table. Eddie Munson leaned back in his chair, boots propped up on the table's edge. His dark curls framed his face, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he assessed her. Rings adorned his fingers, which tapped rhythmically against the arm of his chair. "We've heard tales of your wit and bravery. It's an honor," he continued, standing with a flourish to give an exaggerated bow, his leather jacket rustling with the movement.
Her gaze met his, and for a moment, the room seemed to fade away. There was a challenge in his eyes, but also a hint of genuine curiosity. She felt a smirk tug at the corner of her lips. "Well, I couldn't let my little brother face certain doom without me," she replied, her tone light but edged with playful defiance.
Dustin beamed between them, clearly pleased with the exchange. "She's here to help us crush this campaign," he announced to the room, confidence radiating from him.
"Don't worry, Y/N; we'll make sure you don't die in the first hour," a boy with a mop of sandy hair and a smattering of freckles said from across the table, a teasing smirk on his face. He adjusted his wizard's hat—a battered accessory that had seen better days—and leaned forward on his elbows.
She arched an eyebrow, noting the amused glances Mike and Dustin exchanged. "Your level ten half-elf wizard is going to protect my level eighteen Tiefling fighter? Alright," she retorted smoothly, settling into the empty seat beside Mike. A few chuckles rippled through the group, and the initial stiffness in the air began to dissipate.
---
As the hours passed, Y/N found herself fully immersed in the game. The room was filled with animated voices, the rustling of paper, and the occasional clatter of dice on wood. The scent of old books mixed with the sweetness of soda and the salty tang of potato chips. Eddie's storytelling was captivating, his voice weaving vivid images that pulled them deeper into the fantasy realm.
"The hooded cultists chant, 'Hail Lord Vecna. Hail Lord Vecna,'" Eddie intoned, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper that sent a chill down her spine. The overhead lights seemed to dim, or perhaps it was her imagination as she became engrossed in the narrative. His eyes flickered with dark delight as he scanned each player, savoring their rapt attention. "They turn to you and remove their hoods. You recognize most of them from Makbar—their eyes hollow, lips curled into fanatic grins. But there is one you do not recognize."
Y/N leaned forward, her fingers unconsciously gripping the edge of the table. A knot of anticipation twisted in her stomach. She exchanged a quick glance with Mike, whose eyes were wide with apprehension.
"His skin is shriveled, desiccated. And something else..." Eddie leaned in, the room holding its collective breath. "He is not only missing his left arm," he paused, the silence stretching taut like a drawn bowstring. "But his left eye!"
Gasps erupted around the table. "No way!" the boy with the wizard's hat exclaimed, nearly knocking over his character miniatures. "Vecna's supposed to be dead!"
"Kas killed him!" Mike protested, flipping through his notes frantically.
"So it was thought, my friends. So it was thought," Eddie replied smugly, a sly smile playing on his lips. He reached over his Dungeon Master's screen with deliberate slowness, placing a detailed figurine onto the center of the map—a skeletal figure draped in tattered robes, one eye socket glaring empty. "But Vecna lives!"
Chaos ensued. Players scrambled to adjust their strategies, voices overlapping in a cacophony of disbelief and hurried planning. The atmosphere was electric, a mix of dread and exhilaration. Y/N felt her heart pounding, the rush of adrenaline sharpening her focus.
"Do you flee Vecna and his cultists?" Eddie challenged, his tone almost taunting as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Or do you stand your ground and fight?"
Silence fell as everyone weighed their options. The gravity of the situation pressed upon them, the fate of their characters hanging in the balance. Y/N glanced around the table, reading the uncertainty in their faces.
"I say we fight," she declared firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. Her eyes met each of theirs, a spark of determination igniting. "To the death."
"To the death," Dustin and Mike echoed, their expressions steeling with resolve. A murmur of agreement rippled through the group, the earlier hesitation giving way to a united front.
The battle was fierce. Eddie narrated the onslaught with dramatic flair, his words painting a vivid picture of the chaos unfolding. Spells were cast, swords swung, and arrows loosed. At first, victory seemed within reach. They coordinated attacks, covered each other's weaknesses, and for a moment, hope blossomed.
But fate was fickle. One by one, their comrades fell. The clatter of dice rolling low numbers elicited groans and curses. The boy with the wizard's hat threw up his hands in despair as his character succumbed. "No! Not like this!" he lamented.
"Stay strong!" Y/N urged, her knuckles white as she gripped her dice. Sweat beaded on her brow, her mind racing to formulate a plan.
Mike took his turn, the dice slipping from his fingers with a whispered prayer. They tumbled across the table, seeming to move in slow motion before settling ominously. A collective breath was held.
"Critical fail," Eddie announced with feigned sympathy. Mike slumped back, a look of defeat shadowing his features.
"Dammit!" he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Now, only Y/N and Dustin remained standing. The room was thick with tension, the weight of their predicament palpable. The ambient noises of the school had faded away, leaving only the sounds of their ragged breaths and the distant hum of the air conditioning.
"Time out!" someone called desperately. They huddled together, forming a tight circle. Y/N found herself wedged between Mike and Dustin, their shoulders pressing against hers. The sense of camaraderie was strong, but so was the creeping doubt.
"Guys, I hate to say this, but we have to flee," the boy with the glasses whispered urgently, his eyes darting between them. A murmur of reluctant agreement spread among a few others, nodding solemnly.
"Didn't we just agree 'to the death'?" Y/N asked incredulously, her gaze sweeping over their faces. Her heart sank at the sight of their defeated expressions. "We can't back down now."
She felt a surge of frustration mingled with determination. This was more than just a game—it was a stand against the odds, a test of their mettle. She wasn't ready to throw in the towel, and she hoped to rekindle that fighting spirit in them.
"That wasn't literal," he shot back desperately, his eyes wide with a mix of panic and frustration.
"Vecna just decimated us. We can't kill him with two players!"
"You too? He only has fifteen hit points left. Don't be pussies," Dustin spat, spinning around to face his teammates. His cheeks were flushed, and a fiery determination burned in his gaze. The overhead lights cast sharp shadows across the scattered maps and figurines on the table.
"Pussies? Really? 'Cause we're not delusional?" the boy across from him retorted, leaning back in his chair with a skeptical snort. He crossed his arms over his chest, his brows knitting together as he met Dustin's glare.
"Delusional?" Y/N interjected sharply, her eyes narrowing as she stared daggers at the skeptic. "How about not cowards?" Her voice was steady but carried an edge that sliced through the tension-filled air.
"Hey!" Eddie's voice boomed from across the dimly lit room, breaking the group's heated exchange. He rose from his throne-like chair at the head of the table, the multitude of rings on his fingers glinting under the fluorescent lights. "If I may interject, gentlemen—and lady," he added with a nod toward Y/N. "While I respect the passion, you'd be wise to take Gareth the Great's concern to heart. However, there is no shame in running," he said, his gaze locking onto Y/N's with an intensity that made the room feel smaller. "Don't try to be heroes—not today, 'kay?"
Y/N scoffed at his words, a wry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. There was no way she was backing down now. Not when victory was within their grasp. Even if it meant the devil himself had to claw his way out of hell to stop her.
"One sec," Dustin said, holding up a finger before turning back to the huddled group. "What do you think, Y/N?" he asked, his voice softer now, eyes searching hers for confirmation.
She took a brief moment, her mind racing as she weighed their options. The ambient sounds of the room faded—the soft rustling of character sheets, the distant chatter from the hallway—everything narrowed down to this decision.
"We both only have twelve hit points left; it's risky as hell, but we're the only ones left on the battlefield," she said firmly, meeting his gaze head-on. "You already know what I'm gonna say, so it's your call, Dusty." Her words hung in the air, filled with both challenge and trust.
He studied her face, the gears in his mind visibly turning as he compiled a mental list of pros and cons. The flickering light above cast shifting shadows, mirroring the conflict in his eyes. It felt like an eternity before a slow grin spread across his face.
"Alright, Y/N, let's kill this son of a bitch!" he declared, spinning around to face Eddie. A Cheshire grin stretched from ear to ear, his earlier hesitation replaced with fiery resolve.
"The chances of success are twenty-to-one," one of the members interjected nervously, his voice laced with desperation and genuine fear. He fiddled anxiously with a worn pencil, his knuckles white.
"Never tell me the odds," Dustin shot back, his tone dismissive as he silenced the doubter with a steely glance. He extended his hand toward his sister. "Give me the D20."
She nodded, reaching into her velvet dice bag—the one adorned with tiny embroidered dragons—and retrieved the well-worn die. Its edges were smooth from years of use, the numbers etched deep from countless campaigns. She placed it into his open palm, their eyes meeting briefly in unspoken understanding.
The entire room fell into a hushed silence, the kind that makes every small sound—every breath, every heartbeat—seem amplified. All eyes were glued to Dustin as he prepared to roll. The air was thick with anticipation, so much so that it felt almost tangible.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a split second before casting the die. It tumbled across the tabletop in what seemed like slow motion, bouncing off a miniature goblin and skittering past a makeshift terrain of books and notepads. Finally, it came to rest right in front of Eddie.
"Eleven," Eddie announced, his voice devoid of emotion. He tapped the table with each syllable for emphasis. "That's. A. Miss!"
A collective groan erupted from the group. "No!" "Damn it!" "We're doomed!" The exclamations overlapped, filling the room with a cacophony of disappointment. The tension ratcheted up as all eyes shifted to Y/N.
"We're so screwed," Dustin muttered beside her, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He pulled his cap lower over his eyes, as if to shield himself from the reality of the situation.
She glanced at him, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes. With a swift motion, she reached over and flicked the brim of his hat upward. "I'm offended you have such little faith in me—and from my own kin!" she declared dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "I'm wounded, Dusty; I may never recover." Her teasing tone elicited a few chuckles from the surrounding players.
Turning back to the table, she picked up the die, feeling its familiar weight in her hand. The room seemed to hold its breath. She could sense the gazes of her fellow players, the skepticism, the hope.
She shook the dice once, the clatter echoing softly.
Twice, the anticipation building like a rising tide.
Three times, and then she released it with a confident flick of her wrist. The die rolled across the board, weaving between scattered character sheets and abandoned snacks, before coming to a halt directly in front of the Dungeon Master.
Everyone leaned in, their faces a mix of dread and excitement. Eddie arched an eyebrow, leaning forward to inspect the result. A slow smile curved his lips.
"Twenty," he announced, a hint of admiration in his voice.
"Crit hit!" Y/N shouted, leaping to her feet as a surge of triumph coursed through her. Cheers erupted around her, the room exploding into jubilant chaos. Dustin let out a whoop, throwing his arms around her in a bear hug that nearly knocked them both over.
She laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained, her heart pounding with exhilaration. Around them, the other players clapped and shouted, the earlier tension dissolving into celebration. She caught snippets of their exclamations—"Unbelievable!" "She's a legend!" "We did it!"
Eddie's voice rose above the din, though his exact words were lost in the whirlwind of noise. He looked both impressed and slightly amused, shaking his head as he began to collect his notes.
"I told you she would be our savior!" Dustin crowed to the group, his face flushed with excitement.
"That was some serious D&D playing, Henderson," Eddie called out, giving a nod of respect.
"Of course it was," Dustin interjected before she could respond, puffing out his chest with pride. "Who do you think taught me, Mike, and Lucas to play?"
She grinned widely at her brother's praise, her eyes shining as she looked around at the beaming faces of her friends. The room buzzed with energy, the victory a shared triumph that seemed to make the walls themselves hum.
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coloredcompulsion · 1 year ago
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tfw when you scroll through the tags for a fandom someone you met Once recommended and accidentally hit a poll, I'm doing research on whatever the fuck this is and now I may have influenced a person's decision
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blujayonthewing · 5 days ago
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This year's big web! This one marks five years of big web!!!
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twinstxrs · 4 months ago
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thinking about kageyama’s “it’s the setter’s job to break the wall in front of the spiker” in reference to how kenma sponsoring hinata while he’s in brazil and onwards is effectively doing that on a financial level. once a setter always a setter.
#could talk about how the narrative purpose of every setter (at least in hinata’s story) reflects the idea of breaking a wall in front of him#for hours i think#i want to do a full manga read to fully think about that but#atsumu & hinata’s feeling that he needs kageyama. kenma & just the financial logistics of being able to go to brazil. oikawa & homesickness#obviously there’s more going on w/ all the characters but like. those 3 & kageyama (obviously) all have at least one big thing they help-#hinata overcome. kageyama has so many of these moments w/ hinata i’d have to rewatch & list them all but yea.#akaashi is also this but for bokuto. (bokuto is this for akaashi as well)#(& if we’re talking setters & spikers obviously hinata is that for kageyama. Obviously. they’re soulmates)#i know this is lowkey just me analyzing the concept of support which a team sport series is inevitably filled to the brim with#but with a lot of what i consider to be hinata’s big character moments… it’s always setters man. & that feels deeply intentional.#& takeda obviously but he’s the coach. that is his Narrative Purpose#i wonder if there’s something strong to be said about main characters positions within the team & their strongest overall narrative purposes#like ‘libero’ meaning free in italian & nishinoya & freedom being his Whole Thing. he goes to karasuno bc he likes the uniform!!#i’m curious if i took every character & took their position if i’d find a list of commonalities between their narrative purposes. idk!#but yea anyways i dislike dumbing down hinata’s relationships w/ his setters as like ‘omg setter harem’ as anything other than a light joke#but hinata & setters is such a big deal. almost all my favorite hinata dynamics are with setters i think & that’s bc of that importance#if anyone read this rant in the tags thank you for your time lol. happy birthday hinata i love you forever#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyū!!#hinata shouyou#hinata shoyo#kozume kenma
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bisexualcherdegre · 5 months ago
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D:BH Rarepairsweek 7 | @dbhrarepairs
Day 3: Hank/Markus After the revolution, Markus and Hank are both trying to deal with the new situation they've been handed. Their paths cross.
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