and come on! you did not think i would let this pass me by right

Baby Sister

Summary: The reader is a year younger than her brother, Steve Harrington. She has been sneaking out to see Billy and Steve finds out. A little bit of Billy fluff as well….

Author’s Note: These boys I SWEAR. I’ve seen a request to do a part two, so let me know if that’s something you’d like. xxxx

Originally posted by hcrringrcve

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taehyung scenario | heart-eyes

Originally posted by beui

prompt: I accidentally grabbed your sketchbook in art class, and it’s filled with amazing doodles… wait is that supposed to be you and me… and are we…???

pairing: taehyung x reader

requested by anon | 1.3k words | fluff


Students at art school are weird. Not a bad kind of weird, just a wearing-designer-clothes-only-to-get-paint-splashed-on-them, stopping-in-the-corridor-to-stare-out-the-window-and-mutter-some-poetry-on-a-sigh kind of weird. Maybe weird is the wrong word. Quirky. Charismatic. Artistic.

By far the weirdest (or should you say most artistic) student is Kim Taehyung. He’s the type to wear glasses just for aesthetic. He’s the type to daze off into space during lessons, staring open mouthed at the ceiling. He’s the type to brainstorm unique ideas that would never come together in other people’s heads. And he’s your type.

Which is why you get so excited when you find out he’s your partner for the group art project.

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Huntress in the Castle: Part Two

I hope you guys are enjoying this story! I know it’s not my usual stuff but this is important to me. I really love this story so I hope you guys do too. Part One here.

My fingers wrap around the iron of the gate again. I am the only one that close. The others are behind making bets and laughing, bragging despite their fear to even come as close as me.

“I’ll go in first.” One says.

“You’ll chicken out as soon as we open the gates!” Another laughs.

“Fianna, you get off of there.” Craig barks at me.

I turn from the gate, one hand still attached. “Let me go in!” I call to the boys.

“No way.” Finn snaps. “This is as far as you go, young lady.”

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Take Me Home

Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak knows his old friend is on his way, he can feel it but as the day becomes long his faith is put to the test.

A/N: I have nothing to say, only that this is the most fluffy piece I have ever written.

Word Count: 1888

Masterlist


The man’s fingers bit into the scotch, swirling it tenderly in its glass. Classical rock played softly in the background but it was so forgiving that an untrained ear may have missed it completely. The clock on the wall read well past midnight, the minutes crawling around him.

He knew this was the end, the cancer had progressed too far to be treated. What the doctors were doing wasn’t fair to him, he didn’t want to prolong his life, the suffering had become too great. So away went the endless rounds of chemotherapy, no more were the days consumed among the sick and dying. If this was truly his final day then he would spend it the best way he knew how.

With a strong drink and even stronger music.

The grandfather clock chimed, singing out the hour. He looked up at its face and smiled, noticing his withered reflection. It had been some time since he had allowed himself to look in a mirror, terrified of what would look back at him but now there was no fear. Only acceptance.

He could feel the room becoming colder, the light slowly fading around him. It was time, and he knew this but as he slipped further and farther towards the end a memory flashed through his mind. A memory of sunshine, of children’s laughter and of a small boy with a fanny pack. As the life left his body he whispered a name that he had not thought of in years, a name that once held so much power over him but he had forgotten none the less. His name.

“Eds.”


Eddie awoke from his sleep with a quiet gasp and a slight startle. His body bolted upright in his bed, taking notice of the sunlight that had begun to spill in form his window. He knew that it was still early, that he should just roll over and fall back asleep but the pull in his chest told him to hurry, that today was going to be momentous.

“Stan?” He whispered, nudging the lump on his floor. There was a groan but nothing else, so Eddie shoved harder. “Stan, wake up. It’s important.”

“What in the hell is so fucking important that you have to wake me up at six in the morning?” The curly haired boy hissed, covering his face with his blanket. “Did you wet the bed or something?”

The smaller boy scoffed, “No, what kind of question is that.”

“A valid one.”

“I had a dream.” Eddie explained excitably, feeling his stomach twist in anticipation. “Richie is coming today.”

“Richie? What makes you think that?” Stan asked, sitting from his make shift bed and rubbing the sleep from his eye. “You dream about him all the time, why is this any different?”

“Because I saw him Stan. I saw him coming.” He pressed, jumping from the bed. “Just like Ben did with Beverly, I fucking saw it!”

“Alright, alright, calm your horses there cowboy. Even if you did see him, it could be hours before he gets here. So relax for a second and think about it. Are you sure he is coming?”

The thirteen year old scoffed from his closet, pulling on whatever he could get his hands on. “I’m positive! Why are you questioning me?”

“Because I thought Bill was coming two months ago remember? I had that dream and I got all wound up for nothing. I just want to make sure that-“

“Hurry up and get dressed, I’m going to go get the others.” Eddie squealed, running though the threshold. He could hear Stan’s protests behind him but they fell on deaf ears as the small hypochondriac burst through the front door and onto the lush green lawn. Quickly he grabbed his bike and peddling faster than he ever believed possible.

Ben’s house was first, because it was closest. As he burst through the doors a red haired beauty screeched, falling off the couch in surprise. Laughter began to admit from her as she rolled over onto her back. “No Eddie, come right on in!” She joked, pulling herself back onto the couch.

“Sorry Beverly, I can’t help it. I have some exciting news!” He replied, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Riche is coming today!”

“What?” Ben muttered, rising form the opposite end of the couch. “Richie? Are you sure?”

“I saw him Haystack, just like you saw her.” Eddie replied brutally, “He’s coming. Today.”

“But you two weren’t-um-like us. This could be the same thing Stan went through with Bill, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up for nothing sweetie.” Beverly replied softly, her words floating up into the air before lightly washing over the small boy.

Eddie sighed, rubbing his own arm for comfort. “I saw it. I know we never had the opportunity to be like you two but I just know it’s today. You have to believe me.”

Beverly and Ben look at one another, shrugging in defeat. The both hopped onto their feet, frantically rushing upstairs to change. Once they were done the three of them rode to Mike’s farm on the outskirts of Derry. When they arrived the young farmhand was tending to the sheep, singling happily as he went about his daily chores.

“Mike!” All three kids yelled, rolling down his dirt road in a cloud of dust. “Mike! Mike! Mike!”

The kind boy smiled, dropping his bucket and meeting them at the fences edge. He looked at all three of them, raising an eyebrow at their eager faces. “What up losers?” He asked, whipping his dirty hands on his overalls. “You are all up awfully early.”

“Richie! He’s coming today!” Eddie explained, grinning brightly. “I saw it.”

Mike looked over to the others, who only shrugged. “Okay.” He replied, not questioning his friend like the rest, only nodding with a caring smile. “Let me grab my bike.”

Stan eventually met up with them, bringing a breakfast consisting of muffins and scones that he had gotten from the bakery down the street. Five of The Losers Club sat a top of the hill near the barrens, in the same place they all had arrived at. A comfortable silence had consumed them as the all thought over their old friend, wondering when he would come.

“Do you guys think he will remember?” Beverly asked, breaking the peace while devouring her scone. “I mean, I know he forgot just like all of us did.”  

“He will remember, it came back when we all arrived. Sometimes it just takes a couple of minutes.” Stan replied, touching his food neatly.

“Man, Richie Motherfucking Tozier.” Mike cooed, leaning against lush grass, soaking up the rising sun. “That’ll be a sight for sore eyes.”

“Tell me about it.” Ben replied, handing Beverly a much needed napkin. “I haven’t heard a dick joke in so long, it’ll be nice for a change.”

“Yeah you say that now, give it a week and I bet you ten bucks you’ll want him to go back from where he came from.” Stan joked, smirking at something unseen.

“I just hope he shows.” Beverly muttered, her voice partially consumed by the food in her mouth.

Eddie remained silent, his attention strictly on the space in front of him. He could feel the pull of his body, the magnetic force that kept him here, telling him this is where he needed to be. Richie was coming today and he was going to be the first person he saw when he arrived. It had to be him, it always was.

The day dragged on around them, hours passing with no sign of an arrival. Eventually the Losers grew bored, straying away from the barrens at their own rate until only Eddie remained. The sun was lowering in the sky, threatening to end the day but still he sat, unmoving.

There was a light tap on his shoulder, causing him to startle. Looking up he saw Stan, a bag in his hand and a pitiful smile on his face. “I brought you dinner, I know you skipped lunch.” He muttered, gesturing to his hands. “We can eat together if you want.”

The small boy only shrugged, gesturing his permission. The curly haired boy sat down beside him, pulling out homemade sandwiches and chips. He handed Eddie his before taking a bite from his own. That sat there quietly, conversation lagging. Once their food was gone, the night progressed quickly, the sun setting without their permission.

“I guess you were right.” Eddie confessed, his head hung shamefully. “I guess it was just a stupid dream.”

“It’s okay Eddie. It happens.” Stan cooed, rubbing his back for support. “He will come eventually, just like Bill and when he does you will be here.”

“I just thought we had a connection, you know like Ben and Bev.” He whispered, silent tears falling from his eyes as the sky painted beautiful colors above them. If circumstances were different the pair would have enjoyed the sunset, admiring the way it turned the sky into a masterpiece but today it was an indication of failure, of heartache.

“Who says you don’t?” The taller boy replied, “This doesn’t mean anything, it’s just another day in paradise. We can’t rush them, no matter how much we want to.”

Eddie sniffled, leaning into his friends touch. “I just miss him so much.”

“I know. We all do.”

They stayed like this until the sun was just over the horizon, holding onto one another until it was time to head back to their shared home. Eddie sighed, allowing his friend to pull him to his feet and offering a smile in response. “Come on,” Stan murmured, “let’s go home. Tomorrow is a new day.”

Just as they turned heel a blinding light illuminated around them, forcing both of them to recoil in surprise. Once the brightness subsided, there standing in the middle of the grass, wearing his horrendous Hawaiian shirt and thick rimmed glasses was the trashmouth himself. Eddie let out a cry of happiness, barreling down the hill. Stan stood there dumb founded, “Well, I’ll be damned.” He whispered, shaking his head before following close behind.

“Richie!” The small boy cried, jumping into the lanky kids unrespecting arms. “I knew you were coming! I told them, I told them that I saw it.”

“E-Eddie?” Richie whimpered, pulling his friend from his shoulders, “Is that really you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“But you died, I remember it now. Y-your arm it was ripped off and you bled out down there. Oh my god-“He choked, his voice breaking “I left you. I left you with It, I’m so sorry Eds. I’m so fucking sorry I should have got you out there, should have given you a proper burial, I remember everything now. I did you so wrong, I-“

“It’s fine.” Eddie soothed, rubbing the boys arm fondly. “It’s all okay now. You are right where we are meant to be.”

“And where is that?” He asked, looking up at Stan who had offered him a small smile. His name began echoing in the distance, he could just make out three Losers as they rushed over to where he was, all following the light that had brought him. “Where am I?”

“You’re home Richie.”


Permanent Tag: @decaffeinatedpostmoon @lizwillstealyourgirl @longlostlove @reddieset @eds-kaspbrak @pretzelstoday@losersclubreddie @tonitozierprimary@eds-trashmouth  @notagoodplace4gods @ihavesympathyforthedevil @hausofnikyhausofu

Panic Cord (Chap.5)

Panic Cord - Reader is a blind person living in New York, when one day she’s saved by a mysterious man with a metal arm who shows her that seeing isn’t always believing. (Catch up on previous chapters here.)

A/N: So this is one of many updates I’m going to be doing before the year ends! I’m trying to update everything before New Years, so this is just one of many you’ll see from now on! This one is major feels, y’all. Things between you and Bucky get hella personal. :’)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Blind!Reader

Warnings: Fluffiest thing I’ve ever wrote. Mentions of deceased family. (If you’re uncomfy with any of these, keep scrolling.)

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all alright

summary: you and steve have been friends for a while. after the party at tina’s , you’re worried that the veil of friendship might not be so strong, after all

pairing: steve x reader (fluff + a lil bit of angst)

word count: 1k

A/N: hello kids! this is my first fic ever and im super nervous abt it! let me know what u think! also this goes out to @sanjariti bc steve is our boy 


You looked up at the front of the house with wary eyes, then back down to the smashed party goers who were milling about the lawn. There were definitely at least three people passed out in the bushes, and you had a second thought to just turn tail and get out of there.

However, you reasoned with the situation. This could be your token party for the rest of the year. You could use it as an excuse the next time Harrington was slumped against your locker practically begging for you to make an appearance.

Okay, so he didn’t really beg but, he would ferociously bother you until you gave in.

You liked Harrington, you did. You became friends over a shared hatred of Math in the eighth grade and tried to stay friends throughout highschool. But, things lead to other things. He was busy with swim and basketball, and his shitty friends that you really didn’t care for. And you had your job at the diner, and the extracurriculars that you had hoped would get you into a decent college.

Then came Nancy. You loved Nancy. She was everything that you secretly wished you could be. She was so sweet and so good for Steve. Also, she absolutely floored you with her style.

Steve had been practically in love with Nancy since sophomore year, a fact that he told you at least three times a week. And you were so happy that he finally was able to date the girl of his dreams. But sometimes you wished that was your hand he held, that he looked at you with stars in his eyes.

You sighed, suddenly overly conscious about the last minute cat ears situated on your head and the lowcut bodysuit that really didn’t hide much. Out front the new kid -Benny? - was shirtless, chugging out of a keg, with fans already cheering him on.

.

Sure, this would be fun.

Pushing into the throng of people, you search desperately for someone - anyone - that you knew. After a few minutes, you decide to wander into the kitchen, where you finally spy Nancy in a white top - or what looked to be a white top. The front was now a deep red, almost as red as her face.

“Woah there champ, let’s get you home, okay?” Consoling her was fine, but you needed to find someone who knew where she lived. You and her had only spoken a couple of times, but you couldn’t just leave her there.

Making sure she was awake and drinking water, you push through the crowd, searching for Steve or - boom! There was that kid Jonathan that she always hung out with, who coincidentally, also looked like he was looking for Nancy. You point toward the kitchen, encouraging him to take her home.

Jonathan walks to the kitchen and you’re relieved that she’d be getting home with someone she knew. After that, you maneuver out the back door, wanting to be anywhere but that crowded room. Hopping down to the back porch, you see the back of a familiar head of floppy hair.

Instinctively, your heart skips a beat. You tell yourself it’s nothing, act casual. Pulling your jacket closer, you take a seat next to him. He’s smoking, which you’ve never seen before. He makes a surprised noise at your appearance, but doesn’t take his eyes off his shoes.

“Yanno, that stuff will kill ya.” You chide, nudging him with a forced smile. Steve snorts, flicking the ash off and snuffing it with his boot.

He takes a hit, then hands it to you. “Didn’t think you liked parties that much.”

You take it, holding it before taking a drag, too. “I don’t, not usually. But what about you? Why aren’t ya in there with Na-”

Steve cuts you off, holding out a hand, “I’ll stop ya there.” You raise your eyebrows, glancing at how his sunglasses are slipping on his nose, and the way his lips form into a grim line. SIghing, you stand up, holding out your hand.

He had been your friend for almost five years, you couldn’t leave him to sulk on the footsteps of a party by himself. “Come on, Harrington. It’s weird not seeing you smile.”

You wonder what had happened, you figure it was something with Nancy. Putting the red shirt together and the streaks of tears on both of their faces, it wasn’t hard to figure out. But now wasn’t the time to ask. Not when you can see how red his eyes are - whether they’re red from the drug or crying you’re not sure.

You can tell he’s debating whether or not to grab your hand, because Steve was strong. He didn’t need pity. But, he needs something right now. RIght now he needs some reassurance that someone wants to be around him. He takes your hand, pulling himself up on wobbly legs.

“There we go. Look at you! You look like a fuckin tool. But, I kinda dig it.” You laugh, gesturing to his costume.

Steve scoffs good naturedly, brushing off his shoulders. He was honestly, the biggest dork you had ever seen. You two begin walking toward the street, your hands shoved in your pockets.

“What do you mean? I was the coolest guy in there!” Steve exclaims, to your amusement.

You glance up at him, squinting your eyes. “Oh yeah, for sure! Because all the cool guys wear their sunglasses at night!”

Shaking his head, Steve looks at you for a second too long to be constituted as just friends. Coughing, you break the eye contact.

Deciding on some middle ground, you stick out your hand again. Steve takes it, giving it a squeeze for good measure. You feel something change in your friendship at that moment. But it was good, for now. The buzz off the night’s delinquencies might have been dying down, but the feeling of Steve’s skin was electric.

“Come on Steve. Let’s walk home.”

Yeyé’s Little Handbook For The Everyday Witchling

Today: Peppers and allspice, when to use each kind

Sunday is when Yeyé visits! Several people asked for more advice, and she was delighted to share her knowledge. Yeye’s health hasn’t been great, and she’s been feeling terribly bored since she can’t walk so much anymore. So getting the chance to write her spells and advice has given her a fun project to work on while she’s bedridden. Thank you all for taking interest! When she saw all those notes in the post of her advice she blushed and got all flustered. It was so cute. We’ll be doing a few weekly specials if it piques people’s interest. Tell us what you think!

So today Yeyé wanted to share with you how we use different kinds of pepper. In Argentina allspice is known as “Jamaican pepper”, so that’s why we’ll be talking about it. I hope you don’t find it too odd lol

I debated with myself whether I should adapt Yeyé’s advice, but I decided to let it as close as possible to her actual words because it would feel wrong to put words in her mouth. However, do remember she’s two/three generations older than most of us here. It means that her practices can sound a little bit archaic (for example for her witchcraft per se was always a women’s art, men are healers, not witches. Also for her “spirit” and “fairy” are synonyms). If you have any questions, we can clarify or provide more info as needed!

Let me translate what she said about peppercorns:

Pepper is a very powerful way to keep away everything we don’t like, to protect, and to spice life up. It’s very interesting, because at the same time it repels bad things, but brings in exciting ones. All kinds of peppers have these two different secrets. It depends on how we combine them with other ingredients what effect we’re gonna make stronger. Pepper keeps away the fairies because it makes them sneeze.

White pepper: is more spicy and stronger. You use white pepper when you want to kick something very bad very far away from your life. And if you want to bring adventure to a very boring life, you use this kind. White pepper protects from the worst dangers. If something really threatening comes, it’ll keep it away. Put a grain of white pepper in each corner of a room to keep Mandinga (an aspect of the devil or also a powerful evil fae in Argentinean folklore) away.

Black pepper: Is the most famous one, right? Green pepper is exactly the same thing. It’s good to banish and to attract things in moderation. Somebody hurt you but you think you’ll be ready to forgive one day? Keep them away for some time with black pepper. Also when your job is boring, a single black pepper grain in your suitcase will make it more exciting. If you’re looking for a new, more fun job, rub a grain against the edges of your curriculum without staining it. Grind black pepper on any kind of food to make yourself stronger and more interesting (that’s a glamour advice, people).

Allspice: this is a very soft kind, and it helps to keep away things that didn’t mean to hurt us but did by accident. For example if you have a fight with your sister, allspice will not let it happen again, but it will not kick her out of your life forever. If you want good spirits to enter your house but bad ones to keep away, you can put allspice in a jar near the window. Bad spirits will munch on it, and since it’s spicy they will run, but good ones are more thoughtful and will only smell it and they can pass. If you are making chocolate cake for the fairies, putting some ground allspice on top of it makes so the bad ones can’t steal it but the good ones can eat.

Pink pepper: this one is the spiciest one. Very hot. You have to be careful or it’ll burn your tongue. Pink pepper is good to keep away bad love. If there is a boy who wants to be your boyfriend and you don’t like him, you keep a grain of pink pepper in your pocket when he comes to talk to you to chase him away. But pink pepper also is really good for when you and your husband are having too much routine and want to change things.

If you want to make a mix of peppers that will keep your life safe but interesting, you can do it like this:

-One part pink pepper

-One part allspice

-Two parts white pepper

-Two parts green pepper

-Five parts black pepper

[She pauses] The parts… should be SMALL.


So that’s about it on pepper. Let us know in the comments or captions if there’s any specific topic you would like to ask Yeyé about next week (I can’t keep track of all the tags, sorry :/ ). We hope this was useful, and she sends a lot of love to all of you! She’s really happy you guys take her advice to heart, and I personally thank all of you for making her feel so loved and welcomed.

We’ll see you soon!

Movies I learned sugar skills from

We all know Marilyn Monroe, Angelina Jolie, and Halle Berry are some of the gems we have in movies now. But I’ve watched a lot of movies that helped me gain the sugar personas I had and I want to share some of those with you all.

Girlfriend experience

This is one of the more popular movies for sex workers and it is now a tv series. I personally liked it because I was ending a relationship while I was sugaring and I did feel some of the ways Christine felt.

Another thing I loved about this movie was the documentation and research this girl did on her clients. I use to have a notebook filled with all my POTs and SDs info, status, job info, likes and dislikes, turn ons, etc. My ex stole it a while ago but lucky for me I didn’t write down searchable info, even the names were in code.

I would recommend this as the first to watch before you binge watch sex work movies like I did.

Originally posted by haidaspicciare

Memoirs of a geisha

This is one of my personal favorites because I love the Asian culture when it comes to beauty. The grace, the discipline, and the routine of these woman is really what got me.

When I saw that one look method I was determined to get it to work for me. The Kama Sutra movie below also helped me achieve this. But nothing gets a man across the room faster than an enchanting look from a beautiful woman in their direction.

From this movie I was able to learn how to move more gracefully which is very attractive for men who like “exotic” women. So if you got hips sway them, if you have long legs be swift with your steps, and if your hand are flawless move them like a water bender on avatar (anime joke).

The Treacherous

This movie is very gory so if that’s not your thing don’t watch it. But it does show some intense training for courtesans (old world Asia times).

The seductiveness of these women turned me on so I knew the same methods would turn any man on too. My favorite seductive move is the removing of clothes shown in the beginning scenes where the man challenged the woman to a strip game.

Another scene that showed me a lot of gems was the actual training of the women and how they were to taught to please. I even got some old school hoe tips for my Vag in this movie.

Kama Sutra

Yes it is spelled right and yes it is about using Karma Sutra. If you want a movie example of how some Karma Sutra techniques work then look no further.

This movie showed me how equally important foreplay is for men as it is for us. It showed little snippets of how even feeding can be sensual for men. My favorite tip from the movie would have to be the eye movements of the women while they danced. Those eyes have gotten me compliments from many dance teachers because they could see sexiness in my eyes.

Just look at these eyes:

Originally posted by jillianroses

Etiquette of a mistress

In case you haven’t noticed by now I watch a lot of Asian movies. This one in particular is informative and funny so you’ll really enjoy watching it.

If you’re a sugar that deals with a lot of married men this movie is for you. It shows you how to be properly discrete with your time together and how to deal with the cons of a married man. The best part of this movie is it shows the perspective of a veteran and a newbie, so I know my vets will enjoy this if they or helping any newbies out there.

Wolf on wall street

This is of course on here because of the famous Naomi character that we love so much. Her sharp tongue is definitely needed when you are trying to pass through all the BS talk. But another thing to pay attention to is her physical presentation of herself. Her style with her looks was like devil in a red dress but with diamonds add.

Two can play that game

This one is mostly for my brown SBs who are close to their mid 20s.

In the 2000s this movie was like the black woman’s player guide. I’ve used many of these strategies to get men back on track to what I wanted. My little black dress is still in the closet waiting for the day my fiance acts up.

One thing from that movie I don’t do is flaunt another man because doing that in this world can severe ties real quick.

A lot of people focus on Shante in this movie but I also loved watching Conny too. Mainly because I love Gabrielle Union’s acting especially in Being Mary Jane.

Originally posted by spacecadet

Whoresglory

I didn’t learn much from this movie for my personal gain but I did learn a lot about sex work around the world. So if you’re just interested in a movie that shows you different kinds of sex workers watch this.

Breakfast at Tiffany

I love a good Audrey Hepburn movie because her white woman swag is just as awesome as Marilyn’s. She taught me how to be sweet and

youthful while also being mysterious and unavailable.

Being sweet and youthful is what kept my men feeling lucky to have me. But being mysterious and unavailable at times is what kept them on their toes and more willing do what was needed to “secure” me.

Originally posted by be-holder-com

Show Girls

I’m starting to think I should’ve tried stripping because sexy dancing is one of my favorite things to do. Expressing with my body is like art to me but I was probably right not to strip, I would get addicted.

This movie however made me more glamorous and aggressive when it came to my sexy looks. I never got a chance to see real show girls in Vegas but I’m pretty sure I would be in awe by them. I’ve never been a glamorous person but after this movie I started adding a little shimmer and glitter to my style.

Chicago

Again with the dancing lol, I’m sorry ladies but these women, even with out the dancing were phenomenal. The He Made Me Do It song was an all time favorite for me.

But as far as lessons I started to see how competitive women could be when it comes to money and credibility/fame.

I learned on movies like this how to out smart them when it comes to whales.There have been many new girls who tried taking my main SD away from me but they couldn’t get to my relationship quality. Even when girls did get some dates from other SDs of mine they didn’t last long. So please remember ladies quality and good relationships always wins when it comes to real SDs.

Josephine Baker Biography

My girl next door persona has always got me the most money. So when I saw this biography I started mastering it. Her happy demeanor and tiny voice was so close to mine it wasn’t hard to practice.

What made me the happiest, was that even though she was sweet, innocent, and goofy she was also sensual. She knew how to express her sexuality without taking away from her innocence.

The end of the movie was sad and showed a lot of her flaws but she was still iconic.

Originally posted by barbara-stanwyck

Confessions of a Brazilian Call Girl

I can’t remember if this is based on a true story are not but it’s amazing. Especially with the online social platforms we have now, this movie has been very useful. This woman on here became a high class call girl based on online status alone.

She was also another person I looked to for glam sexuality and showed many women that even average women can dominate the sex world. There were bad parts like her cockiness and drug use but if she would’ve stayed in her grind she would’ve still been raking in millions. One thing this movie can show you (on the bad side) is that you should never try to “Keep up with the Jones” even in the sex world because it’s never greener on the other side.

Call Me: The Rise and fall of Hiede Fliess

If you don’t know Hiede Fliess, look her up now. She’s the greatest when it comes to call girls. The tactics she used to get where she was is amazing. She really knew how to keep connections with her clients and how to get other girls money.

I don’t know what she does now but I do respect the contributions she’s made to the sex work industry. If you’re in LA or Hollywood you should really watch this movie.

Some notable tv women I watch

Joseline Hernandez

She’s so unapologetic about who she is and will get money by any means necessary. Her and Cardi B are like alter egos I wish I had sometimes.

Originally posted by joselinehernandezgifs

Cardi B

She is one of the realest woman I’ve seen on TV and she used what she had to get her fame. Now that she got it she is doing here to the max and I’m happy for her.

Nene Lakes

I can see myself being like Nene when I get older and wealthier. She is a star in many forms and doesn’t let these women or her man interfere with her money. She went from housewife to breadwinner even outside of the show.

Originally posted by realitytvgifs

Whitley Gilbert

I get all my bougie ways from Ms. Whitley lol. Really she was a good representation of a high class but down to earth black woman for me. She started out a little too much for me but after some seasons she grew on me. I’m always a sucker for tiny voiced women because mines is tiny too (Not as annoying as hers).

Tasha Patrick

Now I’m going to be honest I just started watching power but I love this women’s attitude. She’s sexy, ride or die, and also strategically vengeful. I might update this after I finish the show but for now that’s all I have to say.

Originally posted by justalittletumblweed

Phaedra Parks

This woman beats me in being bougie and extra. I’ve never seen anyone who goes all out like she does. When I was in college I always wanted to be a like southern belle with curves so when this show came on I was tuned in. If you ever wanted to see an example of a curvy southern belle that can still get a little ghetto, Here she is.



This list is just a few of the many women I’ve watched to perfect my personas.

Now, when I switch my persona it’s not to completely change who I am but helps me adapt to different environments.


For example: If my SD likes to watch football games from his box then I’m not going to go into my prim and proper mode, I’m going to bring out girl next door me.


Depending on what your daddy likes you’re going to be put in different types of atmosphere and if you’re black than your going to need to adapt. The way to more opportunities is by building your credibility which is usually based on how much people like you. You re like an undercover celebrity lol.

Now if you don’t want to change that’s fine but that’s what’s work for me.

I change up like a Johnny Depp Movie role

Originally posted by yourlifeisinsanity

Hope this all was helpful to you ladies.

Much Love T

I want you to want me

“Wait, no, let’s take the other corridor.”

“But that will take so much longer!”

“I don’t care. Come on!”

Draco ignored Pansy’s pouting and dragged her along. What were the teachers thinking, hanging up all these mistletoes around the castle? There were so many, it was so hard to avoid them all. Also, it was only November 17th! Couldn’t they at least have waited until December?

Cursing under his breath, Draco turned to the corridor that was still mistletoe-free. Well, at least it had been this morning.

“Oh, come on,” Draco groaned as he suddenly found himself and Pansy standing beneath a gigantic ladder. Filch was on top of it, fumbling with the fateful plant Draco had come to loathe.

Since he was a child, he had been very superstitious. Ignoring the mistletoe wouldn’t do it. It was bad luck. And Pansy knew this very well, judging from her smug expression. She had been taught the same by her parents, but, unlike Draco, she chose to try her luck. At least she usually did.

“Well, go on,” she said, grinning at him. Exhaling loudly, Draco pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled.

“I’m waiting.” Pansy’s grin only widened when Draco huffed and blew his hair out of his face.

“Alright, alright.” He leaned over to her reluctantly, but panicked, when she suddenly closed her eyes. She couldn’t be serious! Dear Merlin! Hastily, he planted his lips on her left cheek and immediately started walking again. There! Surely that would count!

“Hey! Draco,” he heard Pansy call after him. Nope, he would keep walking! He would keep walking and avoid these bloody mistletoes this time! Getting back to the Slytherin common room couldn’t be that impossible!

“… no, I remember you specifically told me- Ouch!”

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” Rubbing his nose, Draco glowered at the person he had just collided with. The Weasel. With Granger in tow. Magnificent!

You bumped into me,” Weasley said in an accusing tone.

“Whatever, Weasel! Now get out of my-”

“Oh, mistletoe,” Granger interrupted him, pointing at the ceiling.

You’ve got to be kidding me!

Draco looked up, then back at the other two standing in front of him. Oh, damn it!

“Come on, let’s just go,” Granger said, taking Weasley’s hand.

“We can’t,” he whispered. “We have to kiss.” Granger rolled her eyes at him, but Weasley’s face turned serious. “No, we really have to kiss. It’s bad luck if we don’t.”

Huh. Weasley wasn’t as dumb as he looked after all. With an exasperated sigh, Granger pulled him down and kissed him for much longer than was necessary. When Draco cleared his throat, they finally stopped.

“What, you want one, too?” Weasley asked, arching his eyebrows.

“Well, I was standing under the damn thing, too, wasn’t I?”

Understanding hit Weasley’s face and Draco would have loved to take a step forward and slap him. His dumb face was just so infuriating. Before Draco could do anything, however, Granger shoved her boyfriend and he stumbled forward.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Weasley asked, turning his head.

“Well, obviously, you two are the ones with the superstitions. And I already kissed you, so you can go and kiss him.” The way she said it was so nonchalant, it made Draco gape at ther. Okay, so he definitely didn’t want to kiss her. But did she understand how revolting it would be to kiss the Weasel? Well, of course not. She did it willingly. On a regular basis. Yuck!

When Weasley turned back around to Draco, his face was so pale, Draco thought he might faint.

“Ugh, let’s just get this over with,” Draco murmured.

“No, please, Hermione, no, please don’t make me do this!”

“I’m not making you do anything! You were the one who said you have to kiss under the mistletoe.”

“She’s right,” Draco said through gritted teeth. He closed the gap between them and wrinkled his nose. “Just… hold still.” Draco placed both his hands on Weasley’s shoulders and tried to ignore the way his bottom lip was quivering. His lips looked very chapped.This was going to be worse than he had thought!

If he hadn’t already cheated when he had kissed Pansy on the cheek, Draco would have done the same with Weasley. But he couldn’t cheat fate twice in one day! Ugh!

Just a quick peck. Light. Very light. Lips barely touching. Yeah, that wouldn’t be so bad, right? Ugh, if only it weren’t Weasley!

“Merlin, Malfoy, just do it already,” Weasley groaned. Clicking his tongue once, Draco stood up on his toes and gave Weasley the quickest kiss in history of all kisses.

“Ugh! Now excuse me, I need to go wash my mouth,” Draco declared and started hurrying off.

“Ron. Ron? Are you okay? Are you crying? Oh, you’re gagging. Come on, stop it!” Granger’s voice slowly died down behind him as Draco ran down the stairs to the Dungeons. No, wait, he couldn’t walk down that corridor. There were at least three bunches of mistletoe down there. The one on the left had only one. That he knew of. And he’d have to walk through half the castle again. But one was still better than three. Okay then.

As he walked, Draco kept his eyes to the ceiling. He wouldn’t let himself get into another situation like that. Yuck! Weasley! Disgusting! He’d probably never forget it. November 17th, the day he had kissed Ron Weasley. Why? Why??

He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and began running when he spied the bunch of mistletoe he had been dreading. Luckily, no one else was in the corridor. Heaving a sigh of relief, Draco slowed down when he suddenly heard footsteps approaching.

“Potter!” Draco narrowed his eyes. “Wandering the corridors all alone?”

Why couldn’t it have been Potter? Why couldn’t he have bumped into him under the mistletoe? This really wasn’t fair! Draco was doing everything, but still he had the worst luck! This was just infuriating! And honestly, it was kind of Potter’s fault he’d had to endure kissing Weasley. If Potter had been with his stupid friends, it might have gone very differently.

“Why aren’t you with the rest of your little trio? Tired of being the third wheel?”

Potter blinked.

“I am, actually.”

“Oh.”

This was no fun when Potter was being honest.

“What about you? You look a bit ill. Are you okay?”

Draco tried very hard not to think about his lips touching Weasley’s. This would probably haunt him for a very long time. Instead, he rolled his eyes.

“How sweet. Nice to know the Saviour cares.”

Potter was about to respond, when his gaze fell to the ground.

“What’s that?”

Draco followed Potter’s gaze and almost choked. Was that mistletoe? Growing, actually growing out of the cobblestone while they were standing there? But mistletoe usually grew on trees!

“You can’t be serious,” Draco muttered. This was insane. But… he was with Potter. This would be the perfect opportunity to steal a kiss without having to reveal his feelings for the stupid git. “Ugh, can this day get any worse?” Draco moaned. Yes, yes, act like this is the worst thing that could have happened right now! He watched as Potter slowly examined the plant.

“Is that…”

“Yeah,” Draco said, trying to sound as displeased as possible.

“Oh.”

There was a brief silence, in which they both avoided the other’s eyes.

“Well, since we’re not exactly standing under it… Let’s just ignore it,” Potter babbled. Draco’s heart fell. This was his opportunity! Why was Potter being so difficult?

“We can’t just ignore it. It’s bad luck,” he mumbled. He felt so stupid. Potter was probably seeing right through him. From the corner of his eyes he saw the Gryffindor shuffling his feet, while his eyes were still glued to the ground.

“That’s just some stupid superstition, isn’t it?” Potter said with an arched brow.

“It’s not,” Draco insisted. “People… people have died after ignoring it.” It was utter bollocks. And Potter probably knew it. Draco considered just walking away. Potter was right, they weren’t standing under the mistletoe, so the rules probably didn’t apply here.

“Oh.” Potter paused while Draco suppressed the urge to kick the mistletoe.  “Well, if it’s that serious… we better not risk it.”

Draco’s head snapped up. What? Had Potter just… What?

Keep reading

There’s a Ball?

So, this was a prompt. I have included the ask at the very end this time because I don’t want to give away the spoiler! Another one that was slightly longer than expected. Oh well. 

———————————–

            “Did you hear?” A boy whispered in delight, voice echoing around the now silent corridor. Draco rolled his eyes heavily. What was with immature people being obsessed with gossip? One would think that there would be better things to talk about than mindless shite.

             “Harry Potter is coming back for the Remembrance Ball next month!”

               Draco froze as he fought the urge to demand the boy to spill his sources. It wouldn’t do well to bring himself attention, especially about Potter.

               Excited whispers broke out as they all waited for Slughorn to open his door for class.

               “Where did you hear that?” Smith asked doubtfully. “Someone else brought up Potter at the beginning of the year but it turned out to be false.”

               For once, Draco was rather grateful for the Hufflepuff’s insight. He just hoped that it wouldn’t be a recurring thing.

               “I overheard McGonagall telling Flitwick about it when I was passing by the staffroom.”

               Draco furrowed his brows. If Potter was stopping by for a visit, Granger or Weasley would have acted like it, wouldn’t they? He shot a look towards Granger, who had a book on Modern Goat Conspiracy Theories compared to Anciently Deceased Theories open in one hand and their Potion’s book in the other. Surely, she couldn’t be reading both, right? Weasley had his head resting on Granger’s shoulder and appeared to be asleep. His mouth was open and Draco was pretty sure he saw drool.

               The clang of the door opening had Draco putting this behind him. It was no doubt just gossip.

 ———————————————————-

               “If Potter is coming back for the ball, who do you think will be his date?” Abbott asked as Draco sighed heavily, a few seats away from her in History of Magic.

               “Who says he has to have a date?” Macmillan asked with a scoff. “I’m going stag and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

               Finch-Fletchley snorted loudly. “You’re going stag because everyone you asked turned you down.”

               Draco was incredibly sick of everyone talking about Potter. This was getting out of hand. What was with everyone being obsessed with the savior? Merlin, there had to be better things to talk about.

               “That’s because he is blind to Abbott’s desperate pining after him.” Draco snarked, not bothering to turn around. He was just fed up with the whole conversation.

               There was a stunned silence that filled the room. Macmillan sounded as if he was choking on his own tongue and that was certainly the highlight to Draco’s day.

               “Is—Is Malfoy telling the truth?” Macmillan whispered, sounding awed. As if he hadn’t noticed that the girl had been in love with him for seven years.

               “I—umm.”

              Draco spared a miniscule moment of guilt as the girl sounded positively miserable. But it was for the best. He knew how this would end. And really, what was a little pain as long as it ended in happiness? Well, if they actually lasted as a couple that is. As a realist, he predicted those two would break up after one or two children.

               “Would you like to go to the ball with me?” Macmillan’s tone was scared, which had Draco rolling his eyes.

               “Yes!” Abbott squeaked out far louder than was necessary, causing Draco to nod approvingly.

               And if a small smile also escaped, well, no one had to know.

Keep reading

BTS replaced you. - pt.3

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3] [pt.END]

Originally posted by hobixing

“Ah… they did? What did they say?” Hongseok passes my phone to me as I read the messages I haven’t opened for the last few hours. Seeing them still hurt because it still feels insincere, as if I was alone in this friendship. 

“Are you going to reply?” Hongseok asked while taking one of my hand in his from under the blanket. It was barely even 6am and I wasn’t down for the drama just yet. 

“Not yet, let’s have cake.” I say smiling, and dragging him with me over to the kitchen still with my phone in one hand.

I took the cake out from the fridge and set it on the table between Hongseok and I. He placed a candle in the centre and lit it, turning the light off before he took his seat. The room was dark and the winter sun hasn’t yet risen and so all that was left to light up the room was the moonlight seeping through the gaps of the blinds and the orange candlelight. A few seconds after, the room was filled with his voice - he sang happy birthday and I couldn’t help but wear a smile on my face. His voice was pretty and I honestly couldn’t thank him enough for doing all this for me. When the short song came to an end we both clapped, I clapped to applaud his singing and he clapped to applaud me fo coming to life twenty-one years ago.

“Make a wish Y/N.” 

“Wishes don’t come true Hongseok.” 

“I’ll make sure this one does, as long as it’s realistic and I can afford it.” He laughed as I smiled. 

“There’s nothing I want.” 

“But there is, I can tell.”

“I just want a shoulder to lean on and not be a burden to people.” 

“Done!” I laughed at his enthusiasm.

“I’ll always be your shoulder to lean on, and you’re never going to be a burden to me.”

“It makes me feel as though I’m replacing them because that’s exactly what they said to me five years ago.” 

“I’m not asking to take their place silly, but just know that I’m always going to be here for you.” He grabbed my hand again from across the table and rubbed his thumb on the back of my hand. I wanted to cry in this moment because I was so grateful of him and his words. 

“I don’t deserve someone like you in my life.” 

“Idiot, I told you this already. You deserve more and better but you’re stuck with me now.” 

“I like the sound of that though.” We both laughed and enjoyed one another’s company. Until my phone dinged, showing a notification from the group chat. I un-muted the conversation but didn’t think they’d be up to say anything.

Keep reading

Canceled Date (Steve Harrington x Female Reader)

Summary: After you had to cancel your date with Steve because you have to babysit your sister, Steve invites himself over and manages to show you a completely different side to him.

Word Count: 2512

Warnings: none, maybe just OOC Steve

Note: First time writing for Steve but ay whatever. I hope you all enjoy! Feel free to tell me what ya think! :)

Originally posted by ilovenarcisse

It wasn’t every night your parents would leave you to take care of your 8 month old sister, but after your father got a promotion at his job, they wanted to celebrate. You really didn’t want to ruin their celebration, so you offered to take care of little Anna for as long as they needed you to.

The only bad part was that you had to cancel your date with your boyfriend. You were dating Steve Harrington, the “King” of the school. He had told he really didn’t care about that title, and it was a bit stupid. You have been dating for at least 3 months, and your parents absolutely adored him, and you like to think his parents adore you too.

Anyway, Steve had been a bit upset when you told him you had to cancel. You were both going to watch a movie at his house since you worked at the theater and didn’t want to be there any longer than you needed to.

“Come on (y/n), we’ve been planning this for a week,” Steve said over the phone, you sighed.

“I know, I know- maybe tomorrow I can come over,” you said, feeling bad. Steve was silent for a moment.

“I’ll let it slide this time, but you have to promise me that we’ll spend the whole day together.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“The whole day?” you asked, you can see him nodding.

“Yup! To make up for all the other times you had to cancel!” You scoffed.

“I only canceled once before this!” you claimed, he hummed.

“All day tomorrow so clear your schedule, babe,” You were silent for a moment, before a smile grew on your lips.

“I’ll get to that…I’m really sorry, Steve,” you apologized again.

“It’s alright (y/n), what are you doing anyway, I didn’t even ask,”

“I have to watch Anna, my parents are going out to celebrate or something,” you shrugged, moving on your stomach, holding your phone against your ear.

“You have to babysit?” he asked, his voice changing suddenly, like he was excited. You nodded as if he could see you.

“Yeah- I’m not canceling on you for no reason,” you laughed, Steve laughed as well. Your heart sped up because you really loved hearing his laugh.

“You know what- our date is not being canceled, tell your parents I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” Your smile fell, and you tilted your head.

“What?”

“You heard me! I’ll be there in ten minutes,” You could just hear him get up, and grab his car keys. You sat up.

“Steve! My parents aren’t going to like it if my boyfriend comes over while they’re gone- they might think-”

“Come on- we’re going to babysit, that’s all! I’ll see you in ten minutes! Love you!” Your jaw dropped. Was he seriously going to come over?

“(y/n)?” his voice broke you out of your thoughts and you shook off.

“I love you too, but if my parents turn you away at the door- don’t blame me!” He laughed, and you did too, before the line went dead.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

For the "I wish you would write a fic where..." thing: In a canon setting, except Stiles is older, went to highschool with Derek and was friend with him. He can be a deputy at the beginning, trying to deal with a newly bitten Scott, whom he considers a little brother, and the return of Derek, his friend from school and old (current) crush. Do you think it's a good idea?

So, turns out I love this idea more than anything, and I have so many ideas about this and how it would proceed, but I’m not rewriting the first season, okay. I’m not.


Stiles was very cold, very wet, and very tired, because it was midnight, raining, and he was out in the preserve looking for a body.

Half a body.

They had the bottom half, they just had to find the part they could actually ID.

East side clear, the radio on his shoulder crackled, and his dad’s voice responded for the pair of deputies to head north to meet up with the K9 team. Everything cool was happening on the northside, and yet Stiles was stuck on the southside of the preserve, with Jordan Parrish.

Jordan Parrish of unending optimism and energy.

How he got paired up with the newbie, he’d never know.

Okay, he would, because technically he was also a newbie, except he really wasn’t. Sure, he might’ve been somewhat new to being employed as a deputy of the Sheriff’s Station of Beacon County, but he’d literally grown up in that station; not one person there could say he was really a rookie.

“God, this sucks,” Stiles muttered, sweeping his flashlight back and forth across the wet and muddy ground in front of him. So far he’d found all of two dead rabbits and some dog shit someone didn’t clean up, so, real thrilling night here. Great search.

“Could be worse,” Parrish responded lightly with a shrug, and Stiles rolled his eyes at the darkness in front of him.

“Don’t say Afghanistan.”

The audible smirk in the following pause told him that was exactly what Parrish was about to say.

“I’d rather be a little damp than have sand in my boots, any day.”

“Yeah, well you didn’t step in that puddle.” Stiles’ foot was still freezing and squelched even more than the muddy forest floor beneath it.

It sucked that a woman died, yes, but Stiles was also having a rotten time.

Time passed, there were more updates of nothing found over the radio, a couple dog barks in the distance, and still they found no body.

Given that it was almost one in the morning and everyone Stiles normally talked to was either at home asleep or out in the woods with him on the radio, it took a second for his ringing cellphone to register beyond a mild annoyance that Parrish would have his phone on that loud during his shift.

“You gonna get that?” Parrish asked, and Stiles frowned at him for a second before realizing that was indeed his ringtone, and if someone was calling this late, it was probably something serious.

He only glanced at the caller ID for the briefest second as he answered.

“Yo, Scotty, what’s up?” He was about to add that he couldn’t talk right then when Scott’s panicked babbling steamrolled through his mind.

“Stiles! Oh god, you have to come get me! You’re in the preserve right? Because I’m pretty sure I’m lost, and something bit me, and—”

“Wait, hang on, you’re where?” He was tired, he was struggling to keep up with everything, and Scott was breathing like he would be needing his inhaler in about five seconds. “Why the hell are you in the woods, you know we’re looking for a body right?” he hissed into the phone, glancing briefly at Parrish, who was watching with raised eyebrows.

“Problem, Stiles?”

He shook his head, trying to act casual as Scott frantically rambled out,

“I’m by the west entrance to the preserve, I think? Stiles, I don’t know what the hell it was, but it came out of nowhere, and I’m bleeding, and I can’t find Erica—”

“Erica’s with you?” Christ, it just got better and better. “Okay, stay where you are, I’ll come find you and I’ll tell everyone to keep an eye out for Erica.”

That didn’t calm Scott down at all.

“You can’t do that, her parents would kill her if cops brought her home! You know how crazy they are!”

Stiles rubbed at his forehead. He was cold and wet and tired and now he was getting a headache. “Yes, because she has epilepsy, Scott! She could die out here.” Parrish was coming over, looking concerned. “Just stay where you are, we’re coming.”

He hung up with a frustrated huff.

“Scott’s out here?” Parrish asked, already heading south, so clearly that phone call hadn’t been as discreet as Stiles would’ve liked. At least he seemed to be going with it—despite appearances, not a total stickler for the rules. Good to know.

“And Erica. They went looking for the body.” They must’ve heard the call on the old police scanner in Stiles’ jeep. He needed to stop letting Scott borrow his car. And Scott needed to learn to stand up to Erica’s insane whims, because there was no way this wasn’t her idea.

They walked in silence for a second before Parrish said, “You know you’d do the same if you were their age, right?”

“Shut up.”

Keep reading

It Ain’t Me: Part 10 (I)

Jungkook x Reader ft. Yoongi

Request: Can you make a fake text about how bf hears a rumor about y/n and decides to break up without even knowing the true facts

Words: 2.4 K

Genre: Angst

Part 9 | Part 10 (II)

Check out my Masterlist!





Jungkook had barely gone to sleep when his cell came to life, ringing relentlessly to wake him up. He thought about ignoring it. Sleep didn’t come to him easy these days because a perpetual movie was playing in his mind since the day he found out about his sin. It started with the first time he had met you. 


He remembered being star struck as he ran his eyes all over you unconsciously in the fated get together of mutuals where he had first met you, trying to register all your features because god you were beautiful. An ethereal creature amongst meager men. He remembered the way your lips curved slightly as you savored the taste of bourbon. He remembered the way you swallowed the bitter whiskey quietly, paying no heed to the sexist jokes of the host, although he could tell they were getting on your bad side by the way your hand tightened around the crystal of poison. Oh, yes he remembered. He remembered the way you lashed out on the host, not being able to take the male chauvinism and the general approach of men sitting in the room objectifying women and how you had openly criticized the host and his ideologies, not shying away from calling him names that some people would definitely be talking about later. You dragged his ass right through his own party because that’s how you kept your environment neat. You weeded out the negativity. 


He remembered when he had followed you right out, not caring a dime about how that would look to people, and run after you to find you waiting for a taxi with your arms crossed across your chest in anger. He had somehow mustered up the courage to ask you to stay a little longer and you had agreed upon the condition that it would not be that party. So together you had gone to the café that was right across the street, the words BEER CAFÉ splintered across the front. It started with an acceptable beer and respectable introductions, your conversation but soon it turned into tequilas and guffaws and before he could blink, the night grew into day. At that moment, he had decided. He knew that he just had to get to know you more. 


So he did. 


One date turned into many, and many dates turned into a relationship. It was a quick decision, thoughtless and one he didn’t doubt, moving close to each other. 

The beer café became a sacred place; one you would visit every weekend. He would come over at your place and stay the nights more often than not. On some days you would make love, on other days it would just be an old school but an extremely satisfying movie night in that ended in sweet promises and cuddles. He loved you, he cherished you and you did so much more for him. 


Suddenly, the movie skips time. 


It comes right to the moment when Seulgi suddenly visited his house with a picture of you sprawled across the bed, a man hovering over you and both parties quite obviously naked. The world slipped from right under his legs. This…this wasn’t true. You would never do that. Ever. But Seulgi stopped him, there were more. She emptied out her bag on his bed, with more pictures than he could count on his fingers of you in various situations, in various positions, with various men, and each time your face was twisted in pleasure. He knew those expressions. You would make them for him when he pressed sweet kisses on your neck making you moan breathlessly, when his hands explored every inch of your body, finding a new weak spot every time which he exploited shamelessly making you bite down on him. When his mouth trailed your neck down to your sweet core and he devoured you, setting your body on fire. 


When he fucked you. 


That’s how you looked and he knew that look. But it was not for him. 


His vision went white as a tear and then two fell down his cheeks. Suddenly, everything felt pointless. Him running after you, that decision to move closer, those kisses, those dates. Everything had suddenly lost meaning because you didn’t love him like he loved you. 


Time skips again. 


You message him, leave voicemails, and try to contact him after he broke up with you but he won’t answer. He can’t. He sits and listens to your voicemails, and his heart feels like it’s playing tug of war and ripping itself apart when you cry and cry, asking for just one chance. One meeting to make him believe you. But how could he? Those pictures, those motherfucking pictures, were driving him insane. He felt mad all the time, he felt contempt towards you- who had failed to love him, so the next when he met Seulgi and she confessed her love, he didn’’t think twice before kissing her hard their teeth clashing together. He knew he was fucking up. He didn’t like Seulgi. He didn’t feel like his entire existence was for this kiss, like he felt with you. It was passionless, emotionless and pointless. But he would do it. 


He would hurt you like you hurt him. 


Two weeks of trying and your voicemails stopped coming. You stopped ringing him. You stopped texting him. You stopped trying to convince him. He fell into a new routine. A lifeless, senseless routine that he doesn’t care about. He made a girlfriend that he didn’t love. But at least he was doing the right thing. He couldn’t give in to his feelings for you. 


Once again, time kicks him hard and throws him into a new cut.


The café. You sitting with Yoongi. That was all and he saw red. You had forgotten about him. You couldn’t care less that he was still breaking apart everyday, you couldn’t care that he would wipe his tears all night thinking of you. You simply didn’t care. So he walked up to you and vented out. He called you names, humiliated you and broke you apart just like you had done to him. Surely, this would help him sleep better? It would help him accept the reality of the situation, it would make him accept himself. 

But your eyes. Your eyes were unflinching as you took a hit from his words. Somewhere in his ball of fury, your gaze became fiercer, breaking through his powerful image and hitting him right in the heart. You weren’t lying. He knew it. But how could he believe. So even as you fainted, he let Yoongi take you. He wouldn’t take a step, not until he had confirmed the truth. 


Another leap in time.


You were true. Your words were true. Your intentions were true. Your love was true. And he took too long to realize that. He made too many mistakes before realizing that.  After reading the exchange between you and Seulgi, a hazy blanket of hate had been lifted from his eyes in the harshest way possible. And dare he say he deserved it. Why should you ever come back to him? What reason did he give you? He knew he had destroyed an intimate connection between the two of you by repeatedly mistrusting you and to top it all, he even dated the person who had cooked up this recipe of destruction. He knew it all too well. However, he couldn’t stop himself from trying to reconcile with you. Like a shameless brat, he still wanted everything to be okay. He wanted the dread and guilt in his heart to be replaced by the love he felt for you. He wanted the harsh blankets covering him in the night to be replaced by your soothing touch. He wanted to call you. He wanted to take you in his arms and beg for your forgiveness on his knees again and again. 


And he tried. 


He tried to call you. He tried to text you. He visited your apartment. He even called Yoongi in hopes of finding any information, but he had received a cold response. He went to your workplace and waited there for hours on end to catch a glimpse of you but you never came out. 


You never came out because you didn’t work there anymore. 


You had all but vanished. Your number was not in service anymore. You had shifted out of your apartment. You didn’t visit the Beer café anymore. You had disappeared. He didn’t give up though. He thought of contacting your colleagues but realized he didn’t know anyone’s cell number. The revelation hit him like a bucket of ice-cold water. How could he not know anything about your colleagues? What if something happened to you at work and he couldn’t get in touch with you? Who would he call? Was he even in the position to blame Seulgi for anything when he didn’t even know something as simple as this? 


Each time he came to this conclusion, it connected to the beginning and the movie began all over again. Sleep was a luxury that he could not afford. His conscience wouldn’t let him get away with what he had put you through. 


That’s why when the phone rang incessantly, he was double minded about answering it. However, he turned around and brought it to his ear without paying attention to the called ID. 


“Hello?” He answered, unintentionally letting his tiredness seep into his voice. 


“We need to talk.” 


A jolt of electricity passed down his spine and his tiredness completely abandoned him. He immediately sat up straight, his senses on edge. He clutched his phone tighter in his hands and brought it closer to his ear to the point that he was sure there were going to be imprints on his skin. 


“___? ___, I’m so sorry-“ He began but your voice cut him sternly. 


“Jungkook. Look, I just need to talk to you, okay? Just tell me this, can I meet you right now?” 


Jungkook replied faster than a hurricane’s wind. “Yes. Yes, of course. Where do you want to meet me?” 


“At your house, if you’re okay with that of course.” 


He knew that he should have expected it but he couldn’t stop the dull pain growing his chest at the unfamiliarity you were expressing. You were cold and distant, like you were a stranger to his house. Like you hadn’t come there as much as he’d come to your old apartment. 


“Yes…” His voice slightly cracked and he cringed at the sound. He took a deep breath and steadied his voice. “Of course, you are welcome here anytime. You know it.” He said. He knew he was pushing his luck, pretending like nothing so bad had happened that it would stop you from coming over but it was all he could do. He couldn’t fathom you feeling like a stranger in house. 


There were a few seconds of silence on your part before you curtly replied. “Alright. I’ll see you in 30 minutes.” You hung up.


Jungkook removed the phone from his ears to look at it and despite your cold response, he couldn’t help the smile that was creeping up on his face. He kept the phone on his bed and hurried to clean his house before you arrived because it looked like a mess and he was sure it smelled worse. Oh god, he had to take a bath too. 


As he hurriedly moved around his house, cleaning up the mess all he could of was your call. You had called him. That meant something right? This had to be a chance. 


What else could it be?



Jungkook was ready. Thirty minutes had already passed since you had hung up and his house was as neat as it could be. The bed sheets were neatly plastered on the bed with minimal creases. The glass door facing the city was spotless and glistening with the orbs of lights emitting from the skyscrapers.  The wine was ready in cabinet but he daren’t take it out yet. He didn’t want to seem too at ease with the situation, which he really wasn’t, but if it came to that, he was ready to please you with some of your favorite wine. Double-checking everything for the 20th time, he nervously looked at the clock. 9:30 pm. You should be here anytime. 

As if it was a rehearsed play, his doorbell came to life. His heart almost leapt right out of his chest but he steadied himself speed walked to his front door, opening it with more haste than he intended, to find you standing in a black dress and a thin overcoat clearly not meant for the kind of chilly winds gracing the city from past few nights. You were paler than he remembered and slightly thinner.  You were frowning, and your lips were in pursed in a tight line. You cleared your throat, clearly unnerved by his shameless ogling but he couldn’t help himself, you looked as beautiful as the first day he had seen you. Just as ethereal. 


“May I come in?” You finally spoke up. 



The formality in your words cut through his heart like a knife. He swallowed, forced a smile on his face and that the feeling in his heart, the feeling that everything was going to go wrong was untrue. 

He took a deep breath and brightened the smile on his face. 


“Yes. Please come in.” 



To be continued…


Much love,

Inferno-loop

Counting Orgasms

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Type: Smut, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

Plot: You learn your lesson, a lesson about never lying. To never lie about how good your boyfriend is in bed.

Originally posted by wonhobe

I couldn’t do it. Desperate moans, fingers working vociferously at my clit. Images of my boyfriend painted in my mind. I just could not do it. No matter what I tried. A bath, a sexy movie, listening to my boyfriend’s music. Nothing worked better than his touch. And he deprived me of it recently. I just couldn’t cum without him.

I was driven mad by this. Entirely desperate for such an unobtainable release. I knew he was the only one whom could grant this, and I resented him so much for denying it. Sure, he was busy. But how busy can a man be to deprive his girlfriend of her own basic needs? I needed to vent before a fight brewed. So, I did just that.

“Y/N… Why don’t you just talk to him about it?” My best friend confided in me. We were face timing, and I was begging for a solution to such a peculiar problem.

My eyes widened, “No! Are you kidding! If I were to talk to him about this he would just write me off as being horny and annoying, not sexy and needy.”  I snapped suddenly at my friend, my own sexual tension, and frustration beginning to escape through words.

Her eyes stared at me for a moment, a smile erupting on her face, “You are so sexually frustrated Y/N.” She exclaimed, laughing to the point of tears welling in her eyes.

I rolled your eyes, finding a small laugh bubbling up within you due to hearing her’s. I sighed, “It’s not funny, okay? He hasn’t done anything with me for, like, 2 weeks. I’m dying over here.” I whined, pouting at the joke of it.

My friend snickered, “Is it because you can’t get him up anymore?” She asked deviously, making me gasp immediately.

“What? No! That’s not it at all!” I defended myself, taken aback by her question. I had wondered about this for the past 2 weeks, but soon enough came to the conclusion that it wasn’t my fault, but rather his.

“Then why on earth would your boyfriend not want to fuck you?” My friend challenged, wiggling her eyebrows. I laughed with her at this, shrugging my shoulders.

“I don’t know… He says he’s busy but when he is home he doesn’t do anything. I’ve been trying so damn hard. It feels like he doesn’t want me.” I relished in my own pity party, a frown overtaking my expression.

“Aww, Y/N… I’m sure it’s not your fault! You’re beautiful, okay? I bet he just feels awkward because he knows he isn’t fucking you right.” At this, I laughed. I laughed so hard that I snorted, catching both me and my friend by surprise.

“Come on though, Y/N… Spill it, he isn’t good in bed, is he? Because if he was, he’d be fucking you every night. Hell, if I were gay I would too.” My friend announced, making my laughter never cease to give up, “Come on! Just admit it.” She egged on.

“Okay, okay. I mean, the last time we did anything he couldn’t even make me cum.” I chimed in. My friend’s eyes lit up at this, “I knew it! He can’t make you cum, can he?” She exclaimed.

I went with the sarcasm of the situation and nodded, laughing with her, “Nope. He can’t.” I lied, making her raise her fists and cheer, “I knew it!”

“I can’t?” Yoongi’s voice cut through the happy aura of the environment, my friend going silent, holding back laughter from the awkward situation.

Keep reading

Clingy – Harry Styles

I read a really good “Clingy” imagine the other day and it kind of inspired me to write my own lol. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: You unintentionally go through Harry’s texts where he said you were being clingy.


You were laying on Harry’s bed, binge watching Stranger Things when his phone started to vibrate next to you. You glanced over and noticed that Jeff was calling but you brushed it off thinking that Harry will call him back when he gets out of the shower.

But then he called a second time. Then a third time. Then texted when he wasn’t being answered.

You got up with Harry’s phone in your hand and walked into the bathroom.

“Babe, Jeff keeps calling and texting you. Do you want me to answer him?” You said, peaking your head in. You stood close to the door, trying to prevent any cold air from going in the steamy bathroom.

“Huh?” Harry asked, he poked his head out of the shower curtain and you smiled at the sight of him squinting his eyes from his wet hair that fell in front. “Oh, um, yeah that’s fine. Just text him that I’ll call him back in a few minutes. I’m almost done.”

You mumbled a quick “ok” before he disappeared back behind the curtain. You closed the door and walked back to his bed, opening his messages.

“Hey Jeff! It’s Y/N here, Harry’s in the shower right now but said he’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

Almost instantly the typing bubble popped up and he replied back, “Ok cool, thanks for letting me know!”

You swiped down on the screen to hide the keyboard and was just about to turn off his phone when you saw your name in the conversation.

Keep reading

Halloween Costume?

Bucky x reader
WC
3500 (I’m sorry)
Warnings swearing, Halloween costumes, talk of masturbation, revealing clothes/school girl outfit, SMUT 18+ only, oral sex (M receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex
Summary You need a last minute Halloween costume and Natasha and Wanda convince you to try on an old outfit which catches Bucky’s attention.
AN This is written for @themanwithovtfear ‘s challenge. My prompts were Are you naked under that thing? and “You’re a real pain in the ass.”

It was a few days before Halloween and you were stuck without a costume. You had planned on going shopping for one but you just ran out of time so you were left rummaging through the clothes you had to try to make do.

Natasha and Wanda were supposed to be helping you but really, they were just pulling out random clothes and having you try stuff on.

You had narrowed it down to a black shirt and tights and you would make yourself some cat ears, or a blue dress that you could use to be either Belle from Beauty and the Beast or Alice from Alice in Wonderland.

“I’m going to the kitchen to see if there’s a white apron I can use,” you announced even though neither of them was listening to you.

When you got to the kitchen, Bucky was sitting there with a cup of tea and a book. You didn’t want to disturb him so you tried to cause as little as a distraction as possible rummaging through the drawers.

His voice was quiet and he startled you, “What are you looking for?”

“Um, just a white apron. I need it for my Halloween costume.”

“You’re looking in the wrong spot.” He got up and walked to the pantry, where he pulled out a drawer filled with different aprons.

You furrowed your brows, “Why wouldn’t the aprons be with the rest of the kitchen linens?” you muttered, putting back table cloths and dish towels.

“What colour do you need?”

“White, solid white if possible.”

Bucky returned to the table with three different white aprons.

“Thank you,” you held up each apron, putting it behind your neck and around your waist until you found the best one. You folded it up and placed it on the table, heading over to the fridge to grab some drinks for yourself and the girls.

Before you left the kitchen, you turned to Bucky, “Sorry for interrupting you.”

When you got back to your room, you put the drinks on your desk.

Natasha tossed something at you, “Put that on.”

Looking at what she threw your way, you laughed and shook your head, “Absolutely not. That’s not an option for a costume.”

“Where is that even from?” Wanda asked, looking for a top you could wear with it.

“I’m not putting it on! It’s my old high school uniform.”

Natasha sat on your bed, legs crossed, “Why do you still have it then?”

You shrugged, “Honestly? Every once in awhile I try it on to see if it still fits. Last time I tried it on, it was snug.”

“Try it on, Y/N. You don’t have to wear it as a costume, but we wanna see you in it. I’m sure you look adorable.”

“Fine,” you huffed, undoing your pants. You quickly pulled up the kilt and fastened the buttons when Natasha threw something at your head.

“What the hell?!” you looked up, glaring at her.

“Knee socks. If you’re gonna try it on, go all out, right?”

“I hate you.”

Wanda emerged from your closet with a white blouse, “Will this fit?”

“Um, probably not. The buttons don’t close over my boobs.”

Natasha howled, “God, yes! Put it on! You’ll look like Britney Spears in that music video!”

You’re a real pain in the ass,” you muttered, even though you were buttoning up the blouse as you spoke.

Pulling on the socks, you looked at yourself in the full length mirror.

“This looks ridiculous!” you shrieked, laughing. The skirt was so short, you could see your underwear underneath, the blouse didn’t button so the top part was left unbuttoned, your bra peeking through. You struck a pose, “There. Eat your heart out, Britney.”

Wanda let out a whistle, “It doesn’t look ridiculous, you look hot.”

“Yeah,” agreed Natasha, “All you need is pigtails and you’d be every guy’s wet dream.”

You gaped at them, “You two are shitting me, right? It’s obvious that the entire outfit doesn’t even fit - I’m busting out of the seams here.” When you saw that they were serious, you shook your head vehemently, hands on your hips, “No! God, no. There is no fucking way I would ever leave this room looking like this! You two are crazy.”

Natasha had pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of you.

“What the fuck, Nat? Delete that.”

“Nope. I’ll show it around, see what people think.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t.”

At that moment, there came a knock on your door.

“It’s open!” called out Wanda.

Bucky walked in, carrying the apron that you had left in the kitchen, “Y/N, you left this in the -” he stopped talking, eyes bugging out and he swallowed, hard, “wha-wha- is that your costume?”

Wanda hid her face behind her hands and giggled, Natasha smirked, “Can you tell her she looks hot?”

Your face was on fire, “Can you tell her that I look ridiculous?” You crossed your arms but all that did was push your breasts together.

“Um,” Bucky swallowed again, “um, here’s your apron,” he tossed it your way, turned on his heel, and walked out the door.

You stood there, flabbergasted at his reaction meanwhile Natasha and Wanda were in stitches.

“What was that?” you frowned.

“Are you - are you serious?” Wanda wheezed.

“What? What’d I miss?”

Natasha looked up at you, “Oh, sweetie, you can’t really be that naive.” When she saw that you were legitimately confused, she smiled at you, “I think you just blew Bucky’s mind.”

“What? No! You’re crazy!”

“Fifty bucks says he’s in his room jerking off right now.”

Your mouth dropped open, “Shut up! He is not!”

Wanda sighed, “Honey, c’mon; his tongue was practically on the floor.”

You shook your head, “No way.” You looked in the mirror again, uncertainty written all over your face, “I look silly.”

“You don’t. You. Look. Sexy.”

Natasha leaned back on the bed, “I’d suggest you go find him or that fifty’s mine.”

You sighed and walked to your closet, “Fine.”

“What are you looking for?”

“A robe? A jacket? Something to cover up with?”

They laughed, “You’re wasting time, sweetie. Just go.”

You paused for a second then dashed out of your room, praying no one would see you. You cut through the living room to get to the elevators but as luck would have it, Sam and Clint were there watching a movie.

“Y/N?!” Sam sounded incredulous, “What are you wearing?”

You froze, “Don’t ask.”

“Oh, I’m asking.”

Smirking at you, Clint let out a whistle, “Well, isn’t that something. That your Halloween costume?”

You answered without thinking, “No! It’s my old high school uniform.”

Both of them just stared at you, mouths open.

“Gah! I know, I look foolish -”

“Nuh uh, you look hot,” Clint interrupted.

“Oh, um, thanks?” you continued on your way to the elevators when you heard Sam mumble behind you.

“Jesus Christ, that skirt is short.”

You had forgotten how short the kilt was and you could just die after flashing Sam and Clint your underwear. You sighed as you got into the elevator, crossing your arms, at least it was pretty underwear.

When you got to Bucky’s room, you stood outside his door, shifting from one foot to the other. How the hell were you going to prove to Natasha that he wasn’t masturbating?! You shook your head, you didn’t think this through. Sighing heavily, you knocked hoping he wouldn’t hear you.

“Come in,” his voice sounded muffled.

Shit. You pushed open his door and walked into the room.

“Hey Bucky,” you started when he walked out of the bathroom wearing only a low-slung towel. “Are you naked under that thing?” you blurted out.

He smirked at you, “Well, I did just get out of the shower, so yeah.” He walked towards his dresser and began rummaging around for some clothes.

You closed your eyes and spit it out, “Well, um, okay, so I thought I had upset you but Natasha and Wanda said no and um, Natasha bet me fifty bucks that when you left my room you came up here to masturbate and I disagreed but now I need to ask you if you did and I feel like a complete idiot and -” you stopped talking when you felt Bucky’s hand on your arm. Your eyes flew open and he was much closer than you had expected, “Oh.”

While your eyes were closed, he had only put on track pants and they weren’t any better than the towel.

“Let me get this straight,” arms crossed across his naked chest, he leaned against his desk, “After I left your room, Natasha bet you that I came up here to masturbate and you disagreed with her so you came up here, dressed like that, to ask me?”

Your eyes widened and you could just die, “Oh my god,” you mumbled, covering your face with your hands, “when you say it like that, it’s the stupidest thing -”

“Did anyone see you come up here?”

You blinked up at him, “What?”

“In your haste to get to me, did you happen to pass by anyone on your way up here?”

You nodded, “Uh, yeah, Sam and Clint.”

You could see the tick in his jaw, “Did they say anything?”

“What does that matter?” When he didn’t answer, you crossed your arms and sighed, “Yes. They commented on the outfit. Sam really seemed to appreciate how short the skirt is and Clint told me I looked hot. What’s your point?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry?”

He smirked at you, “Yes. After I saw you in that getup, I came up here, jumped in the
shower, and jerked myself off thinking about you.”

You frowned at him, “That’s not funny, Bucky. You don’t have to be an ass.”

He shook his head at you, “You don’t even realize how sexy you look, do you?”

You stared at him, unsure if he was pulling your leg or being sincere when he smiled at you, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth, “Where’d you get the outfit from?”

“It’s my old high school uniform,” your voice was soft.

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned, “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbled, “Lock the door.”

“What?”

“Lock the door, Y/N.”

When you turned to walk towards the door, you heard Bucky let out a low moan and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder to see if he was alright and you let out a gasp.

Bucky was still leaning on his desk, arms still crossed. His eyes were dark and his track pants were tented with his erection. When he spoke, his voice was gruff, “Come here, Y/N.”

Dazed, you walked over to him, stopping in front of him.

He reached out to you, gently rubbing his hand over your arm, “My god, you have no idea how fucking sexy you look right now.”

You felt your skin get hot and you bit your lip, shaking your head.

His metal hand cupped your face, the coolness of the metal giving relief to your heated cheeks. He ran his thumb over your lip, pulling it out from between your teeth. “There’s so many things I want to do to you.” He pushed off his desk crowding your space, “Tell me, what do you want?”

Your brain was running a mile a minute so you closed your eyes to collect your thoughts for a moment. When you opened them, Bucky was watching you carefully. “You,” you whispered, “I want you.”

He smiled at you, “You’ve got me, baby girl. How do you want me?”

The look in his eyes gave you a confidence that you didn’t normally have. Taking a deep breath you put your hands on his chest and gently pushed him to sit down on the chair. Running your fingers gently down his naked torso, you smiled at him, “I want you just like that.” Leaning forward, you pressed a tentative kiss to his lips.

Bucky grabbed the waist of your skirt and pulled you towards him, deepening the kiss.

You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, nipping on his lower lip. Breaking the kiss, you pulled back slightly but he moved his hands to your hips, keeping you close to him.

Tilting your head, he pressed kisses to your neck, sucking and biting gently and you sighed again.

“Bucky, wait,” you rest your hands on his shoulders, “hang on.”

He pulled back, looking concerned, “Shit, I’m sorry.” He immediately dropped his hands to his sides, “I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

“No, stop -” you tried interrupting but he kept talking.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, please don’t -”

“Bucky, stop talking,” you gripped at his shoulders, trying to get him to stop talking but he wouldn’t hear you.

He shook his head, “I mean, I’m really sorry and I shouldn’t -”

“Bucky, for fuck’s sake, I wanna suck your cock.”

That shut him right up. “What?”

You smiled at him, your hand brushing lightly against the bulge in his pants and you spoke slowly, “I want to suck your cock.”

His eyes widened, “Are you - are you sure, baby?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

“You don’t have to -”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this, Bucky?” you put your hand on your hip and raised a brow, “seriously?”

“No! No, I just, you know, don’t want you to feel like you have to -”

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up. Seriously. Just, ugh, shut it.” You ran your hands up and down his torso and gave him a smile. Kneeling between his legs, you ran your hands up and down his thighs.

Bucky let out a small hiss and gently put his hands on your head.

Looking up at him, you widened your eyes ever so slightly, it had its intended effect.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look so sweet and innocent like that… You’re gonna fucking ruin me, aren’t you?”

Giggling, you nodded. You kept one hand on his thigh while the other moved to pull down his pants. Bucky lifted his hips up to help you, his thick cock springing free. You swallowed hard; you guessed he was large but you had no idea. Looking up at him, you saw him smirking down at you so you gripped the base of his cock giving the tip a featherlight lick. You could taste the pre-cum that had gathered there and his smirk disappeared as he let out a hiss, jerking his hips up just slightly.

You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock, then ran your tongue up and down his shaft, teasing him. When you figured he had had enough, you opened your mouth and took as much of him as you could.

“Oh, fuck,” he cried out, hips jerking up as you sucked in earnest.

His hands still on your head, he held your head still as his thrust his cock in and out of your mouth.

When he hit the back of your throat, you could feel yourself gagging, so you relaxed your throat and took him in farther, making him moan. You continued sucking him up, bobbing your head up and down, and you could feel yourself getting wet. Squeezing your legs together, you let out a hum around his cock.

“Fuck, baby, I’m close. Tell me if you don’t want me to come in your mouth.”

Your response was to suck harder, using your tongue to flick against the tip of his cock. You could feel him throbbing as he came with a cry, his hot cum spilling down your throat. You continued sucking him, your hand moving up and down slowly swallowing every drop that he gave. When you were done, you pulled off him and sat back on your heels, using your thumb to wipe away the spit that had dripped down your chin.

“Jesus Christ, you are a fucking sight. Come here,” roughly he pulled you to your feet, slamming his lips against yours in a searing kiss. Bucky gripped your hip with one hand while the other skimmed up the outside of your thigh, leaving goosebumps. He gently ran his fingertips across your ass then squeezed one cheek, “I fucking love how your ass looks in these.”

You gasped when he gave your ass a slap, then moaned when he rubbed his hand over it, “Fuck, Bucky.”

“Yes, Y/N?” he brought his hand to your inner thigh, running it up but stopping just before he reached your cunt.

You tried to rock your hips, trying to get his hand where you needed it the most.

“Oh? You don’t like being teased, baby?”

A thought popped into your head and you blurted it out before you could convince yourself not to, “Need you to touch me, daddy.”

Bucky stared at you, eyes black with lust. “Oh, fuck,” he ground out, his hands going to your underwear, “So wet for daddy.” Pushing them aside, his fingers went to your entrance, spreading your arousal around, his hand still on your hip keeping you still.

“Please, daddy, stop teasing.”

Smirking up at you, he pushed a finger inside you, “Does that feel good, Y/N? Do you like when daddy fucks you with his fingers?” he pushed another finger inside you.

“Fuck, yes. Feels so good,” you moaned, your hands grabbing onto Bucky’s shoulders for support, your hips moving.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace, “Touch yourself, baby. Touch that pretty little clit of yours, I want you to come all over my fingers.” He angled his fingers so they brushed against your g-spot.

You brought your hand down to your clit and began rubbing. “Fuck,” you could feel your walls clenching.

“Come for me, baby, you’re so close. I can feel you squeezing my fingers.”

His words put you over the edge, and you cried out his name as you came, “Fuck, Bucky, oh my god, yes!”

He continued to fuck you with his fingers, slowing down as you began whimpering. Without warning, he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and carried you to his bed. He put you down and kissed you, “Get on your hands and knees baby.”

Your legs felt like jelly but you did as he asked.

He raised your skirt and rubbed your ass, “My god, isn’t this something?” Teasing you through your underwear, he leaned his body forward, whispering in your ear, “I’m gonna fuck that pretty little cunt of yours, baby. Make you scream my name again.”

You moaned at his words, pushing yourself against him.

He pulled your underwear to the side and ran his cock against your folds then pushed himself in. “Oh fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”

You moaned at the full feeling, forgetting your words.

Bucky started pounding into you, gripping your hips so tightly you were sure there’d be bruises.

“God baby, look at how good you take my cock; like it was fucking made for you.”

You bit your lip and whimpered when he pulled you up so your back was flush against his chest.

Thrusting into you, he wrapped his flesh arm around you while his metal hand reached down to your clit, rubbing circles against it, the coolness of his fingers a stark contrast to how hot you were. “C’mon baby girl, come for me, I can feel how close you are.” He pinched your clit and you came hard, his name a prayer on your lips. Riding you through your orgasm, he came a few moments later, coating your walls with his cum.

When you both came down from your highs, he slowly pulled out of you, making you whimper. Chuckling at you, he pulled you into his arms, “Come here, Y/N.”

You let him hold you, pressing gentle kisses to your neck as you closed your eyes, resting against him.

“That was,” he cleared his throat, “that was, wow.”

You giggled, “Right? It was certainly… interesting.”

Holding you tightly in his arms, he chuckled, his chest shaking against your back, “Sure, let’s say that.”

You sighed heavily.

“What’s wrong? Regrets?”

You shook your head, “God no. I just remembered I’m out fifty bucks.”


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self-control (part 1) - steve harrington

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Angst, some light cursing.

Summary: You’re in charge of homecoming but you don’t have a date.

A/N: OK, honestly I’m so proud of this you guys. It was like ten pages on a google docs. I hope you like it. I know a lot of people want a part 2 to twist of fate, and that will most likely happen pretty soon! But I want to do this as a series as well so we’ll see. Anyway, hope you all like it. I love the feedback, by the way, so tell me what you think!

Gif is not mine, belongs to the owner.

Originally posted by nwetss

The sound of the phone ringing woke you up. Startled, you ran a hand through your hair and looked around before registering where you were. Home. In bed. Things were normal again, right?

Wrong. It was two a.m and the phone was ringing. Why did your parents agree to get you your own line? You quickly flicked on your bedside lamp and then picked up the receiver. “Hello?” You mumbled barely coherently, slowly sitting up in bed.

“Y/N?” It was Steve. You could tell by the way he pronounced your name. Just slightly different than everyone else did. Like it had more meaning coming from his mouth.

You let out a long yawn. “Yeah, Steve. It’s me. What’s going on? Why are you calling me at-“ you glanced over at the clock on your night stand. “Two thirteen in the morning?”

“I haven’t been able to sleep at all,” he said, and you could hear the tiredness in his voice, all groggy and deeper than usual. “Let me apologize. Let me make it up to you. I fucked up, okay-“

“Fucked up is putting it lightly,” you cut him off, your words sharp like daggers. “I don’t want to talk to you about it. Especially not now.”

Steve sighed on the other line. You could almost picture him running a hand through his hair. You hated that you knew him that well. “Go to sleep, Harrington,” You said, and didn’t wait for a response before hanging up the phone.

You tried to go back to sleep but your mind kept drifting back to a few days ago, when everything starting going to shit.

Keep reading

you had me at ‘i’

premise: (name) and steve try to figure out their feelings in strange ways, that inlcude dating people they don’t like. feat cheerleading!

PAIRING: steve harrington x reader, (slight!)billy hargrove x reader 

a/n: i like cheerleaders ok??? kinda was feeling rly bad abt my writing since i felt that it was not that good so i tried rly hard on this one hope it shows xoxo i will continue to try and work even harder. sorry for being slow on requests
also, requested:  can I request an imagine where Steve doesn’t get along with you but in the inside he likes you, (anon) /  heeeey i love your writing so much!!!! can i request one with steve harrington where you’re a cheerleader and steve starts dating one of your teammates and get jealous? thank youu ily (anon)

if you like my stuff and want to support me, don’t forget to treat me to a KO-FI! take part in the 7K followers gift HERE!

MASTERLIST.

Spring sun shines brightly overhead; soft wind gushes past delicate thighs and pinches at the hems of bright red skirts. The playing field is mostly empty of spectators, just a few younger girls, with awe in their eyes, and a couple of football and basketball players watching the cheerleading squad finish their perfect routine without a hitch. Voices of the girls in pigtails die down into harsh breaths as they wipe away drops of sweat from the arches of their brows and the flats of their foreheads. Some high-five as congratulations, some wave flirtatiously at the boys and they wave back.

“Good job, girls! See you tomorrow, same time, same place.”

With a sharp inhale you fix your white shoelaces and wordlessly accept an offer of water from one of your teammates, Suzy. As you stand up a whiff of your perfume mixed with a tint of sweat greets your nose and you can hardly wait to hit the showers. Your eyes wander around. You see the boys, ones that were so intently watching you and your girls, now approach. Among them is Billy Hargrove – of course he’d be checking you out – and surprise surprise…Steve Harrington.

Keep reading

Eight Months (part II).

You had been with Harry for two years when things started to go wrong. Like all normal couples, you had petty arguments and they usually ended with the both of you apologising profusely to each other and buying each other small gifts for forgiveness, but that was it. It never went any further than that, until the night you broke up.

You knew things had been wrong for a while, even though it hurt to admit it. Although you accepted Harry’s career, it was hard to be apart for months at a time. You both struggled to fit time around each other because of work and studying commitments, but you could both decided that you could and would handle anything life threw at you. Skype and FaceTime were your life savers and you used them whenever and wherever you could.

But in time, Harry became distant. He forgot little details about you; he forgot the smell of your perfume, he forgot about the little strands of hair that you could never tie back properly, and it was like he forgot how much he loved you. He soon started to forget about events that were taking place. Whilst you knew and understood that he couldn’t attend such events including your swimming gala and dancing competition because of the tour, he never bothered asking how they went. Instead, conversations that were once filled with passion and love, both interested and eager to learn about each other’s days, soon turned into silence down the phone, the occasional murmur here and there, before hanging up.

*

The clock ticked and the kitchen tap dripped and the rain pattered against the window. The tears rolling down your cheeks however, were silent, and the only noise your body could muster up was the occasional snuffle.

To say you were upset was an understatement. It was your birthday, and whilst it had never bothered you before dating Harry, you were now absolutely gutted that it coincided with London Fashion Week. Celebrities from all around the world had flown in and much to your dismay, that included Kendall, who attended with Harry.

When you had awoke that same morning, you thought maybe Harry was playing a trick on you, and that he was only pretending to have forgotten your birthday and would soon surprised you, but nothing. You had searched the apartment from top to bottom but to no avail, you found no hidden presents or anything that indicated a surprise for you. If you were honest, you didn’t really care for gifts or surprises; to spend the day with Harry was enough for you. But here you were, sat alone in the kitchen, whilst he was being paid to spend his precious time with another woman.

*

“It was a bit of a dick move, mate” Louis tells his best friend.

Harry sighs and shakes his head. “You think I don’t know that?!” he exclaims as he leaves the shop with the flowers he had placed on order as soon as he realised he’d fucked up. “These are alright, yeah? They’re all her favourites combined” he adds, gesturing to the beautiful bunch.

“H, I think it’s going to take more than a bunch of roses and lilies and whatever else is in there to make it up to her this time. She doesn’t expect a lot from you, you know that. She’s the least high maintenance chick I know. Hell, even Eleanor expects more from me than what (Y/N) does from you! I take El away for her birthday every year, we always do something nice. I wouldn’t dream of spending it with another woman” Louis tells his friend firmly.

“Fuck off!” Harry spits. “Management are the ones paying me, not you!”

“Whatever mate, but it’s your funeral. Didn’t you spend an evening with Cara a few weeks ago, when it was supposed to be a date night for you and (Y/N)? If you’re not careful, you’re going to lose her. Someone else will come along and treat her the way that you should be doing it now. Is that really what you want?” he asks.

*

“I don’t know how many more times I can apologise, baby” Harry begins, but you quickly hold up your hand in protest to stop him.

“Don’t!” you warn firmly.

Harry throws the flowers down on the table after your refusal to accept them. He shrugs his shoulders at your harsh tone. “What do you mean, ‘don’t’” he asks, quoting you.

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “Baby? You really think that by calling me pet names that I’m going to run into your arms and forgive you for forgetting my birthday, and worse, spending it with Kendall, of all people! How many other girls are you calling ‘baby?’”

“Oh don’t be so ridiculous, (Y/N)! I’m in a relationship with you, not anyone else!” Harry exclaims. “I’ve apologised, what more do you want me to do? Get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness?”

“There’s more than just us two in this relationship, Harry, and you know it. Me, you, management, Cara, Kendall. And that’s just to name a few! You’ve let me down so much the past couple of months. Do you even love me anymore?” you ask, dreading the answer as you softly chew your lip.

Harry scoffs. “Of course I fucking love you! I wouldn’t be standing here having this argument with you if I didn’t.” He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what you want me to do or say, (Y/N).”

“It’s never going to change, Harry! Things will always be the same! You ‘forgot’ my birthday and you spent the day with Kendall. You ‘forgot’ our date night and you spent the evening with Cara. I know it’s what the media want and expect from you, and I know management want you to do this, but I think you want to as well” you sigh, the words you had held for so long in your mouth now finally spilling out.

“You’re joking, right? That was a joke? You seriously think I want to spend any spare time I have with Kendall or Cara over you? Management need me to do this, if I don’t, I can kiss goodbye to my pay cheque! Half the things I do in this job is for you! How the fuck else would you get the latest handbags and purses and shoes?! Who else is going to pay for your education? Because I don’t see you or your family offering to cough up!” he spits almost bitterly.

You gasp in shock at his words. He knew your financial situation at home and that your parent’s worked so bloody hard to provide for you, but it just wasn’t enough. Your future career depended on your qualifications, and those qualifications could only be acquired in higher education in which Harry had offered to pay for, before he knew anything about the money side of things.

“Really, Harry? That’s how you feel? You think I’m with you for the money? I don’t give a damn about the shoes or bags and purses or latest fashion trends. I love you because you’re my boyfriend and I see myself living the rest of my life with you. I don’t love you because you’re Harry Styles from One Direction!” you spit back, your words truthful.

“I’ve heard that one before” he tells you, his eyes averting to the floor.

“So now you’ve got trust issues with me? Other girls may have treated you like that in the past, but I’m not like other girls, Harry. Two years we’ve been together and you really think that of me? When you guys broke up as a band, and you didn’t know what was going to happen to your music career, who was the one sitting up with you every night holding you whilst you cried? Other girls would have run a mile because of the uncertainty of your future. I love you even if you have nothing!” you shout at him.

Harry shrugs his shoulders and bites his lip. “Look, it’s not even just this causing arguments. They’ve been going on for a while and maybe having Kendall and Cara as friends is something you can’t handle. But I can’t live my life like this anymore. I’m done arguing with you all the time” he tells you softly.

“You’re making it sound like I don’t want you having friends, which isn’t true. I want you to put me first, like you did at the start of our relationship. You would have done anything back then for me, Harry. I hate arguing with you too. Maybe if we arrange some sort of schedule and arrange dates in advance to see each other?” you suggest.

Harry shakes his head. “I think it’s too little too late, (Y/N).”

You frown, your bottom lip beginning to quiver as you ask the dreaded question. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Harry’s eyes avert to the floor once more and the silence between you both speaks more volumes than words ever could.

*

The first few months after the break up had been tough to say the least. You continued to work and study for the first couple, managing to get by. Once you finished work, you would go home and tuck yourself into bed and shut yourself away from the rest of the world. You neither needed or wanted any social interaction with anyone. You only wanted your own company, reminiscing over the fun times with Harry, overthinking each night what could have been done differently so as you wouldn’t be in this situation. Unfortunately, you could never answer that question. Nothing could have been done differently. You would have always ended up here.

A few months passed and life was getting a little easier, but the beauty of social media portrayed it to be a lot better than what it actually was. You were able to deceive your followers and the public that your life was good again because you were taking selfies at nightclubs and you were going out and having more fun. But you were still going back home to an empty bed with only a teddy bear to hold at night, whilst thoughts of Harry plagued your mind.

Within four months, you met someone new; Tom. You both met through mutual friends and instantly clicked. Whilst there was no original intention there, you quickly became friends. You took a few selfies, posting them onto social media sites, happier with your life. Tom was lovely; he was a young, handsome man, studying Law at the same university as you. He had ambition, as well as being fun, kind and caring, and within five months of the messy break up with Harry, you were officially dating Tom. Coffee dates, pumpkin picking, country walks, the typical couple dates that you would go on together, sharing your memories online.

You had plastered pictures of the two of you together all over social media by six months, but you weren’t portraying your life to be something it wasn’t. You were happy, genuinely happy, and whilst you weren’t in love with Tom, you loved him and could see yourself learning to be in love with him. The more time you spent with him, the more you learned about him, and the more you wanted to know him.

By the seventh month, things had changed. Tom had changed, and not for the better. You spent most of your time at his university flat with him, yet he still accused you of sneaking around behind his back, cheating on him. You would never cheat on anybody, it was against your principles and besides, you didn’t have the time to see anyone else between dating Tom, and going to work and studying. Small comments soon followed the accusations; he’d tell you that you needed to diet and join a gym, that you weren’t pretty enough or smart enough or good enough and that he could do better. Then he’d apologise and take you on a date and spoil you rotten. He would buy you flowers and gifts. “Please forgive me” he’d say. “I love you.” The next change was a push and shove here and there, moving you out of his way when he was angry. One night, he pushed you into a glass door. Your eyebrow split and you needed stitches. He vowed never to touch you like that again.

He lied.

Eight months into your relationship and Tom was putting his hands on you almost every night. No alcohol was involved, just his temper. Nothing warranted it, violence can never be condoned. Dinner wasn’t ready he got home? A slap across the face. His flat wasn’t tidy? A punch in the stomach. You went out with a friend? A black eye.

By this point, it was very difficult to maintain the lovely selfies you used to take. If you posted anything, it would be a cover up of how dreadful and controlled your life had become. You weren’t sure you could muster up the strength to even pretend that life was good anymore. Any bruises photographed would raise concerns and there would be unwanted comments posted on social media for the whole world to see, and you neither needed or wanted that. The less attention you drew to the situation, the better.

But tonight, nearing the end of eight months since breaking up with Harry, Tom had gone one step too far. The physical abuse was dreadful enough to experience and nothing condoned his disgusting behaviour, ever. Once your horrific ordeal was over, you ran. You refused to succumb to the darkness that had surrounded your limp body only moments ago. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you. You needed to get to a safe place. Somewhere close enough to get to, but safe all the same.

Harry.

He was all that was on your mind. How could he see you like this? Would he even be at home?  What if he was with another girl? Would he let you stay the night until things were sorted? Would he judge you? Would he pity you?

Oh, Harry.

You needed him. You weren’t sure that you could ever bring yourself to trust any other man in the world again, but Harry, you trust him with your life. He’s the only man you could ever trust, and your heart shattered into millions of pieces because the one man you really can trust, was also the same man who broke your heart eight months ago.

You pant hard, your heart threatening to pound out of your chest, but the adrenaline pumps around your body harder when you see the apartment alight. So close, so fucking close. As soon as you reach the door, there’s no hesitation in knocking hard and repeatedly. When there is nothing, you bang harder, your fists pounding at the door as tears stream down your face.

“Alright, I’m coming!” you hear his voice yell from inside the building and you know he’s getting closer to the door and your heart pounds harder and faster than ever before. He sounds angry, probably because it’s late and he’s probably working tomorrow but you need a safe space and right now, he’s the only person who can provide that for you.

It seems to take a lifetime, but the door is swung open and Harry’s demeanour changes within an instant. He goes from seemingly pissed off to looking like he’s about to vomit at the sight in front of him, with anger and pity and fear and worry evident in his eyes, emotions taking over his body.

“(Y/N)” he gasps out, catching your petite frame as you collapse into him. Wrapping his arms around you and embracing you tightly, he takes in your features, swallowing the lump formed in his throat. He know’s what’s happened to you and you know that he knows, and he knows that you know he knows, but for one split second as he holds you, no dialogue is needed.