#body on the step is soooo good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoshigray · 2 months

Note

Hello (◍•ᴗ•◍)

I really like your work it's so good!! And i saw your request is open soooo

Can i request delinquent/bad boy sukuna x student council president reader? Like they hate each other bc reader is very strict with the rule while sukuna just break it anyway. One day, sukuna saw the reader in a party which make him confused bc reader is not the type to do fun stuff. And moments later they fuck

Sorry if this is a very detailed request. Feel free to ignore it or change it :3

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my, another sukuna req! things bout to get hot, hehe~

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; Sukuna and you are college seniors - blackmail - fingering (f! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! receiving) - facials - use of a phone; sexual photography - impact play (spanking) - full nelson position - degradation (cumslut, pig, slut, whore) - humiliation - overstimulation - pet names (brat, princess, woman) - dick piercing (frenulum) - usage of drugs & alcohol - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

Sukuna was grinning ear to ear as he marched his way toward you. “Y/n.”

You perked at your name, and your face contoured to brief shock before shifting to mild annoyance. “Sukuna.”

Running into you at a huge party was the last thing Sukuna expected to see. But it’s a situation he will take advantage of expeditiously.

College is hard enough being the top dog of the student government association and trying to juggle senior classes. It is your job to keep the school and its students in order, maintaining a pretty face as it’s been doing decently for the several years before you. The entire student body knows you take your job seriously, earning the respect they give you with every step you take and being praised by professors and faculty alike — even being invited to have dinner with the university president along your association!

But of course, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows because there are always downsides to the good — one of them being a ginormous thorn to your being.

Ryōmen Sukuna is a man you’ve been dealing with for almost four years. Known for his intimidating cadence whenever he walks the halls, the brutality of his moves as he’s the famous trump card of the school’s jiu-jitsu club, and his cold and demeaning manner of speech when talking down to others he deems beneath him, he is regarded at the campus’ “demon dog.” Someone that many can never believe is the older brother of the freshman track star sweetheart, Yuuji Itadori.

He is a person that many say is the complete opposite face when compared to you, a fact you have no choice but to agree with a twitching brow. Looking through all the disruptive students you’ve dealt with, Sukuna would be crowned King for being the most colossal nuisance of your life. Whether it be reporting him to the campus police for picking fistfights with the juniors, smoking in smoke-free zones, adding more tattoos to his face and arms, or willingly trashing places because he thinks he can, no one has been more subject to give you more grey hairs. He just doesn’t listen — he won’t listen!

And the worst part is that he enjoyed making your life a living hell. God, he’s such a fucking bastard, not wanting to deal with outside of your academic life.

…Until you two see each other from across the living room where a huge party is held in one of the off-campus apartments, perplexed crimson eyes locked on with widened ones, too shocked to take a sip of your drink from your red solo cup. You immediately turned to the group before you, hoping the sea of kids and the bouncing bass could distort your image from his vision.

Too late; the salmon-haired senior couldn’t hide the grin on his face as he slithers past people to get to where you are. Students move out of the way for him to move, the group you were hanging with gasps with wary stares, and Sukuna taps your bare shoulder.

“Never figured the student government president would be here,” his voice was chilling as always. Yet you remain a neutral face when facing him. “Something tells me there isn’t apple juice in that solo cup.”

The group you were hanging out with instantly excused themselves to somewhere else in the apartment, leaving you alone with Sukuna. You rolled your eyes, “What is it, Ryōmen?” You feel disgusted as his red eyes scan your figure, taking in the off-shoulder, long-sleeved bodycon dress you were wearing. True, you don’t wear stuff like this all the time, but you can’t expect this bastard to have any amount of decency or subtlety.

“Whatcha doin’ here, prez?” God, you hated him calling you that, knowing good and damn well what your name was — but, again, why would he bother; not respecting you enough to do something simple as that. “Isn’t this kind of thing what you’re against for and all?”

“Hmph, am I not allowed to have some fun at a party I was invited to?” You furrowed your brows and took an aggressive sip. “Besides, this is off-campus housing; the property owners are the ones who’ll have anyone’s asses if stuff breaks or cause disruption against the codes.”

“Oh, so the uptight President is off duty this time? Hmm, ain’t that something,” he leans against the wall beside you with crossed arms. Your gaze was averted to the crowd bumping and grinding rather than acknowledging the delinquent examining you. “I figured you’d be somewhere pulling your panties to some poor bastard.”

“Watch your tone when talking to me, Ryōmen,” you finally send him a glare through your peripherals. It humored him, a devilish chortle you could hear even through the loud bass. “Lucky for you, I’m only here to have a good time with some friends before heading home to assignments. So, do me a favor and don’t start shit for me to take home and stress over.”

He lifts a brow, “Is that so? Miss Prez came to let loose, huh.” You didn’t like how he said that — nor how he moved to lean closer to you. His cologne disrupts your nostrils. “Never thought you had that side of you.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me, Ryōmen,” you swing your cup around with a scoff. “And I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

And you thought you’d win this round as Sukuna doesn’t say anything to you for a few seconds. However, the man goes through his pocket to pull out his phone to pull up something. And when he finds it, he flashes the screen to your direction. “You mean things like these?” You turn to look at the device, and your eyes go wide with an agape mouth. What he was showing were photos — a whole lot — of you.

“You know, I’m sure it must be hard being president of the student body; that’s why I don’t envy you,” one photo shown is of you smoking in the Honors Lounge with a few of your student government associates, an action undoubtedly prohibited within the facilities. “So, I can’t blame you when you decide to settle down and let yourself go for a minute,” he swipes his finger to pictures of you drinking liquor with some other students who smoke blunts and have weed plastered on the coffee table. “However, you really outta be careful with what you’re doing, Y/n; you got people who look up to you and expect so much from you.” Another picture shows you at some dark nightclub with a guy friend, shoving middle fingers and sticking tongues out at the camera.

Your lips quiver with every swipe, and lips quiver, “Wh…Where did you get those…”

“Hmm? I can’t share that information. Heh, plus, I like to keep tabs on those who can get on my nerves,” he stuffs the phones back into his dark jean pocket. “But I can’t lie; the more I look at those pictures and compare them to the little president that nags too damn much, I can’t help but wonder what would happen if someone were to leak these out for the whole school to see. Which would drop quicker: your presidential scholarship and accolades or your reputation?”

“You fucking asshole…!”

You swiftly throw your cup at Sukuna, but the pink-haired man dodges easily and grabs your wrist — the poor guy behind him gets drenched with your drink. “Hey!” The guy grabs Sukuna’s shoulder and is immediately met with the infamous death glare. “…My fault, bro, don’t worry about it. I’ll go dry off,” the student says while backtracking away from those fearsome eyes.

You’re trembling with vexed shakes; the hand on your wrist holds you tight with no sign to let go unless necessary. Otherwise, you know he’ll break it if you make one wrong move. “…What the hell do you want from me?“

Now Sukuna has you in the palm of his hand — his sinister grin growing as he leans closer to be inches away from your face. “My apartment is on the top floor; you have ten minutes to get your ass up there,” you don’t move a centimeter when he draws near your ear to whisper. “I’ll show you how to really get loose, Miss President.”

The words felt like sharp daggers to your throat, “You…devil.”

He snickers into your ear, “Pick your poison, and you’ll see just how much of a devil I can be.”

And with that, Sukuna straightens himself up and heads out, his frame disappearing deep into the crowd till you can’t see him anymore. Your heartbeat goes at a pace way too irregular to call ordinary, and your blood too cold as it has your skin suffer in shivers.

This was a nightmare — an absolute, horrifying nightmare. There’s no way the guy that you hate with your very guts just blackmailed you! This was not how this night was supposed to go; now your whole reputation — what you’ve built with your own two hands — is being held in front of you and is dependent on going to this asshole’s apartment. Who the hell does he think he is!?

You didn’t want to go. You wouldn’t go! Especially under the premise of that fucker, playing with your life like some toy. Your thoughts were inner turmoil, challenging your morals and conscience on what to do. Your pride was trying to pull up a good fight, holding onto whatever dignity you have to validate not going up on the elevator and seeing Sukuna for what he’s about to do to you. They’re just pictures; people will think they’re edited or question if they’re valid!

However, the fact that you spent five minutes going back and forth with this suggests those were anything but pictures. He had ammunition to bring you down — to humble and look down on you — and have everyone do the same, no matter what you could say to justify yourself. So, swallowing your ego, you exit the party and walk the hallway down to the elevator. Every floor you ascended made you feel small, and when the doors opened for you to step out and you saw him leaning on his door waiting for you, your fate had been sealed.

The same smirk he had at the party was plastered on his face. You were no longer in control of the situation; you are now in his domain — and you should follow his commands to keep up.

“Gahhh! Mmmph, Ryooo, stop—Eeek! Y’re hitting so ha—Ahhh!”

“What? You thought I was going to be easy with you? After all those times you’ve pestered me to no end? Hah, think again, prez.”

Being in the same space with Sukuna is something you never comprehended happening civilly in all your years of knowing him. Now, being laid on top of his knees as he sits on the edge of the bed is jarring in its own sentence. The skirt of your dress was pulled up, your ass and panties out for the cool air to caress. Not until Sukuna rips you off your underwear and starts giving your bare butt unforeseen strikes. The impact of his hand was so harsh that you gripped his jean-clad leg with a scream.

He goes about this for a solid five minutes, giving your asscheeks slaps – and your cries have him chuckle and do some more. And you can’t squirm out of his hold, or else he’ll dent the skin of your butt with his fingertips, piercing into the tense muscle to inflict pain like no other. God, it hurt so bad, every smack taking your breath away.

“Look at you,” he coos, rubbing his hand on the hot skin. The pain was so bad to the point of your eyes watering; simply hovering his Hand over you was enough to have you in shudders. “Whatever happened to the poised and resilient Y/n who’d always dare threaten me for my behavior? This person on me, screaming like a whore, can’t be the same Y/n.”

You grit your teeth, turning over your shoulder to express your seething glare. “Who are you calling a whore, you fucking—Deeeii! Ohhh!” Sukuna sneaks a forefinger inside your wet cunt, not bothering to warn you. “Wai—Tahhh! Take it out, take it out right—Noooh!!”

“Oh, don’t even think you’re in any position to tell me what to do, slut,” you bite your lip as he moves his finger into your vagina with such merciless vigor. “And with how you’re crying like a bitch, you sound pretty whore-ish to me.”

Oh, go fuck yourself! You could have told him that — but you didn’t because he squeezes in his middle finger to insert inside your tight chasm, both digits now rummaging inside your vaginal walls and scraping them to the point of drooling babbles on your part. You couldn’t think of anything, not when he’s still throwing smacks on your ass with his free hand. You can’t even wipe the spit that comes down your lips because he distracts you with more jabs to your inner walls and pinches to the skin of your butt. Fuck, fuuuck!!

And it gets worse when you feel his thumb dance around your asshole. “N–No, stop it, Sukuna! That’s dirty, don’t—Mmnaahh!!” He slips it inside without care; the pain of his thumb forcing inside your puckered anus almost has you shut down.

“That’s the point, prez,” he bites his lip with a pestilent snicker. “Gonna make you so fucking dirty tonight, wanna ruin that perfect image of yours that you don’t recognize yourself. He scratches your butt, resulting in you clamping onto his digits with a grip that feeds his ego. “Mhmm, just like that, princess.”

How dare he play with your ass like a toy and have the nerve to call you that? Such a sick man; the hate you have for him boils your blood to no end. “Ahhh, stoop, too fast, please, go slo—Mmmph!?”

He shoves two fingers in your mouth to stifle your cries. “That’ll keep you from squealing, fucking pig.” And he continues to toy with your slit and anus, your whimpers muffled by his thick fingers.

“Take it all in, Y/n, every single fucking inch, ya hear?…Mmmm, yeah, deep in your throat like that.”

This. Is. The. Worst! There’s absolutely no way you’re sucking Sukuna’s cock right now; this is the very last thing you’d want to be doing! He’s standing with his dark jeans and briefs on his thighs, his hand on the back of your head to make sure your mouth remains on his dick at all times. If you could, you would’ve chewed the damn thing off and made a run for it.

But you came here for a reason, so you keep your disdain at bay and begrudgingly suck on Sukuna’s glans, having the salmon-haired man purr from above you. And it doesn’t help that he holds his phone to take pictures of you and said add more to his collection. God, he’s so disgusting…

“Fhhh, fuck, that feels good,” he groans at you taking his girth. Your lips down to the hilt, burrowing his length deep into the warm, tight tunnel of your throat. “Who woulda thought the strict, by-the-book Y/n would take in dick so well?” You narrow your eyes at him as you bob your face up and down, earning a hearty chuckle from the pleased man. “That face of yours, baby, so furious with me, huh.”

You try to pay him no mind, distracting yourself with the task at hand by licking one of his balls before sucking them. Your hands increase in speed when stroking him, having the man above unable to stop bucking his hips to your fist for more enviable friction.

“Shit, yeah, yes,” he throws his head back in bliss, and you can tell he’s about finished while feeling his cock pulsate under your touch. “Bring your face here.”

He does it for you – his hand on your head for a reason – and forces you close to his cock before he jerks himself for release. And his come exudes with a force, landing right on your face. You fight every fiber of your being to move away, accepting his essence to paint your cheeks, nose, and lips. It was unbelievable how disgracious he was, just plain selfish and unapologetically nasty.

You hear the phone snap, throwing another scowl at the pink-haired responsible. “Lookin’ like a real cumslut for me, prez.”

And the worst part of all finally comes around — the thing you dreaded once you stepped out of that party and into that elevator.

“—Fffaaahh! Hooohshiiit! This is crazy—Eeeee!”

“Fuckin’ shit, you’re tight as hell, woman…Khhh…! Tryin’ to milk me dry, huh, Y/n…”

Sukuna lies beneath you with his legs bent away, his arms wrapped underneath your legs, and pushing them to your chest from behind. His cock is entombed inside your leaking slit as he thrusts up to you with every second, and the sound of your ass smacking onto his thighs fills the space.

He has his hands behind your neck, demanding you to look at the union of your sexes, and your face couldn’t get any hotter than watching the obscenity. He’s been fucking you for more than ten minutes now, his cum inside you from the last round stains a white ‘o’ around the base of him, and the sticky substance so vulgar to look at it stretching with his push and pull motions. And the squelching – the goddamn squelching! – it only furthered the fog clouding your mind.

There was no point concealing your wails; your lips were forced open with every jab from Sukuna. Jesus, he was so fucking big — your poor cunt stretched to accommodate his intrusion. You clamp onto him more when he pulls, the barbell piercing his frenulum and scraping your walls from the descent and grazing your G-spot.

“Fuck, fuuuck, hsssh…!” It was hard to concentrate on anything outside of this, and you couldn’t tell if you were speaking adequately or prattling like some sex-crazed fool. You sigh with rolled eyes when he sends sporadic ruts out of nowhere, clenching onto his shaft with a tug.

It has Sukuna groan hotly, his breath steaming your skin. “Holy fuck, you really love gripping my cock, don’t you, princess?”

“I–I can’t help it! You keep ’n hit—Haishhh!” Your eyes meet the ceiling at the jab of your A-spot, the pressure making you feel full. “You—hic—…Yo’re the one m’king me like thisss…”

“Is that right?” He takes slow thrusts to draw out your pleasure; your broken howls were music to his ears. “Sounds like the to be enjoying yourself.” You hurriedly shake your head no, and he throws a bitter pound to your hypersensitive chasm. “Brat, why the hell else are you milking me like this for, then?”

“Becauseee, it feels….Mmmm,” No, you can’t say that. Don’t tell him what he wants to hear.

“Hmm? Feels what?” You can hear the smirk on his lips. You don’t say anything except muffled hums, so he probes you, “You want me to send out those pictures, huh? Show just how much of a terrible president you are, how you love to go dumb on my dick?”

Of course not! “Do—Don’t you dare…!”

“Then answer the question: how does it feel, hmm? Tell me, how do you feel being fucked by the guy you hate so much?”

Oh, damn you, Ryōmen Sukuna! It was now you shed a tear, your hands grabbing for his forearms for purchase.

“—Fucking ‘ell, it feels good,” you said it, your last bit of dignity finally thrown for the man to shred apart. “Feels ‘oo good, you make me feel—Geheehh…so damn good…!”

Oh, that was more than enough for him. Sukuna’s sneer becomes broader, and his chuckles are felt from your back. “What a dirty bitch for me, princess…”

His hips go back to an unsteady fashion, propelling his dick to his base, and the brushes of his piercing massage your walls too precisely. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to come crashing down on you with a scream, the walls of your cunt contracting around Sukuna for the third time that night. Your nails dig into his arms, and drool leaves your pretty agape mouth as he allows you to ride out your climax.

Sukuna whistles at the sensation of you fluttering on his girth. “Phew, damn, that was a good fuck. You know how to keep up with me, woman; you’d make a great pet.”

You were sick of him, gulping to wet your dry throat. “Delete…the fucking…pictures.” Your empty threat only has him click his tongue with a scoff.

“Not so fast there, prez; the fun was just getting good.” Your heart sinks to the soles of your feet. “So, be a good brat and know your place is under me tonight.

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

2K notes · View notes

nouearth · 11 months

Text

lessons in kissing.

dick grayson x male reader x peter parker.

summary: dick and peter become your professors in kissing 101 (& more).

wc: 6.2k. genre: smut. warnings: top!peter, top!dick, bottom!reader, handjobs, blowjobs, kissing, cum-swapping, mouth-fucking, threesome, unprotected rough!sex, reader's first time, characters are aged up!

notes: yeah, so um... this might be my dirtiest smut yet. this was also my first time writing a threesome soooo, i hope i did okay? thank you, anon!

request by: anonymous.

“you’re lying! you’ve really never kissed anyone before?”

“dude, like, ever?!” peter gasped, and you turned towards him, slowly nodding while you grew cautious of everyone’s confusion.

“not even when you were in kindergarten?” you twisted your neck for the nth time at the sound of dick’s voice again, and shame unexpectedly crept onto you the more the two men collected their bafflement together.

your cheeks and neck flamed as they both stared at you, bewildered as if your confession was akin to an unmasking of a superhero—like a family of lemurs, a small one, you’d reckon.

“geez,” your hand clutched onto the can of sparkling water harder before downing it, ridding your insecurity in several hard and fizzy gulps. “if i knew i was going to be interrogated, i wouldn’t have told you guys in confidence.”

“no, it’s just…” a careful exchange was puzzled together by the two men. dick shrugged and peter stammered, following you into the kitchen of his apartment. “i mean, not to make you feel weird or anything, but you’re not ugly.”

“i- pete, was that supposed to be a compliment?” your eyes narrowed at him jokingly, maintaining the coldness of your gaze to break peter into nervous stammers.

“w-what, no!“ he shook his head and approached you closer, a mixture of awkward laugher filling the feigned tension between the both of you. “wait- no, i mean, yes! it’s a compliment.”

you’ve always found it cute.

“i think what peter means is…” bouncy steps followed you two into the kitchen, more-so to sate his appetite for pizza after losing his tenth consecutive match on a game, but consider his curiosity piqued. a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese didn’t stop him from joining. “you’re handsome, he talks about it all the time.”

“dude...” peter grumbled and instinctively turned his body away out of your sight, sipping at nothing in his cup. the only fizz left was the glare he sent dick; like a sparkler on holiday festivities.

“oops, my bad,” another bite, and dick took his cup of soda to gulp the grease down. “we find you handsome—though, i’m pretty sure (m/n) knew that since i hit on him when we first met.”

“god,” you laughed it off, picking the pizza box of gloopy cheese to take it in your mouth. “can you imagine? my first kiss being with you? or even peter?”

yes, you can imagine. those thoughts had run rampant since you met them in freshman year of university, expanded upon it even. what would it be like to date dick? how soft were his lips? and the same for peter. sometimes, you’d even think about making out while he was in his spider-man costume, but that fantasy was shamefully bookmarked into a deep abyss of thoughts, only sprouting when you would touch yourself at night.

“why?” peter turned back, almost offended, while dick’s laughter joined you, and you swear you can feel a draft from how quickly he twisted around. “is that weird?”

“kinda?” the conversation made you shift on your feet. it was more intimate than what you were used to, and they knew it too, judging by the way they both stared at you again—hyenas. “i mean, i guess it’s because we’re so close now, so…”

“pft, that never stopped me,“ it was like a magic spell drew that confession out of dick. your fingers would have to be cut to coerce that out of you, but you weren’t dick—shameless and confident, you admired it on good days.

nonetheless, you and peter both gave dick a questioning look. offended would be a regular person’s first reaction, but from the brief exchange you and peter shared, it was unanimous that curiosity took the lead.

dick’s gaze shifted from you and peter, and when the silence drew out for longer than he would’ve thought, a welcoming draft in the room awaited his rebuttal. “come on- you seriously think i stopped thinking about you guys just because we’re best friends now?

“dude, you think about me?” peter’s eyes widened. it would’ve been hilarious if you weren’t involved. you would’ve passed this off as a banter, no more than that.

you hated to admit it, but you felt yourself throb at this revelation. blood rushed downwards in light speed and you were barely conscious to the drone of peter and dick’s chatter, but you shook it off, laughing at their banters like you aways did.

the day went on like usual. peter’s collection of video games kept you guys entertained for a few hours. when you felt fatigued from mashing your thumb onto the buttons for the ninth match, a walk downtown sufficed. laughing and bantering were the core of your friendship with dick and peter—like every friendship you’d imagine.

but at its finest, it was their vulnerabilities to you, and yours to them, that kept the foundation strong. they trusted you with every secret of theirs, aided them in a few missions of their own, and your friendship thrived.

the next few days haven’t been exactly the smoothest. you were quieter than usual, and they both took notice because you’d pick at your food while their voices—questions and comments—were ignored, passersby to the street of hearville.

was it that weird to have never kissed at your age? to never have had sex? to not even have had held hands with another guy? they never made fun of you, but you couldn’t help but let these thoughts run rampant.

no. no, it wasn’t. people have their own pace. mine... just somehow happens slower.

you weren’t insecure, but you still felt weird. you suddenly became moody when you saw dick and peter, like you want to be left alone, push them out of your apartment when they drop a visit, drop their pants and suck them off-

oh.

ohhhhh.

dick and peter.

“teach me.” you suddenly spoke out and the two men looked up from their plate of food, exchanging a look with each other before questioning you, humored because you barely spoke all day. the tv played in the background and you were all sitting on the ground, eating off of peter’s very… very small coffee table.

“ah, i almost forgot what your voice sounded like, (m/n)!” dick laughed, twirling his fork into his pasta before shoving the food into his mouth.

you made a slight pout, only because they weren’t taking you seriously. though, to be fair, you have been acting weird all week.

“with what?” peter noticed, a little more serious in his inquiry. but food was more of a priority for him, you can see him practically sweating at the thought of leaving his spaghetti cold.

“pete, you can still eat-“ you laughed, taking a bite of your food.

“oh, thank god.” and peter does the same, chowing down on his spaghetti after a hard day of saving lives.

dick cleaned his palette with a cold gulp of soda, a refreshing hiss when the bubbles trickled down his throat. “so, teach you what exactly?” he continued on. “fighting? oh, dude, are you going to be a vigilante-“

“no, no! does it look like i have the strength to be like batman or something?”

“well, i’m guessing that’s why you came to us for training?” dick amused himself, and peter chuckled, much to your annoyance.

“guys, i don’t want to be a vigilante.” you grumbled, beginning to bury your confession deep in the pit of your stomach somewhere. “or a superhero, or a guy in a spider-suit with weird web things.”

“hey, they’re not weird-“

“i want to…” it was calming to watch the way your fork swirled itself into the pasta, metal tongs pierced and capturing a wave of sauce and spaghetti all in one swirl. “learn what it’s like to kiss.”

peter choked on his glass of water.

you continued, hot in the cheeks because you can see peter’s widened eyes even when you look away. “handjobs, blowjobs, everything…”

and a piece of dick’s meatball was caught in his throat.

a low drone accompanied the silence once the tv was muted and while a huge weight lifted off your shoulders and chest, you felt small knowing how vulnerable and weird your request sounded.

“so, you want us to teach you how to…” dick cleared his throat and you feel like you could hear a smile, but you weren’t sure if that was your mind trying to convince you that everything was fine. “kiss and… other things?”

“yeah,” you continued to avoid your gaze, opting for the wooden floor instead. “i know, it’s weird. you don’t have to say yes or anything, it’s just-“

“is that why you’ve been acting stand-offish lately? peter was worried. he was the type to always blame himself of someone else’s behavior, no matter how much you tried to reassure him. though, you guess, he technically was the reason why you became so moody—part of it, anyway.

“mhm.” the silence was defeating, you can hear their necks turn to look at each other—of judgement, most likely.

and it was all but confirmed when you can see them hopping back onto their feet and running—running as far from you as possible. “guys, wait, i’m sorry-“

you looked up and watched them dash to peter’s bathroom, immediately chasing after the trail of their steps in bewilderment. “what are you-“

“first step, make sure you have good breath.” dick handed you your toothbrush, his spare one at peter’s already brushing into the foaming spearmint in his mouth.

“atleastluntilhelikeyousenough” peter gargled thick and incoherent, brushing into his jumbled sentence.

“uh-huh, okay… seems a little obvious, but…” you spread the toothpaste on the bristles of your brush and began brushing, a smile forming because you have to brush the front teeth too—but also because of your best friends.

you can always count on them.

“you ready?” dick naturally became the leader of this impromptu training program. he was the most experienced considering how many women and men you caught him with, and as much as you hated that when you were roommates with him, his expertise was needed in this moment.

“yes.” you sat in the middle of peter and dick, rubbing your sweaty palms against your shorts. a mere flash of regret ignited inside of your beating heart, but peter rested his hand on top of one of yours, squeezing ever so gently to warm and soothe you—to pacify you.

and your worries were quelled when dick does the same, his smile softer, countering his usual playful attitude. “just stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable.” he made you feel safe.

you looked at peter, and he nodded in agreement, his fingers now intertwined with yours. he had always kept you safe, feeling safe, this was a normal feeling towards him. “same with me.” “i will.” your voice was quiet in the bedroom, a mere soft whisper, but they recognized your will to be more vulnerable with one another, to blossom. and dick appeased it with a kiss.

light and feathery at first to test the water, but once dick heard your breath hitch, he applied more pressure in between your lips, capturing them in a slow waltz that kept you on your toes, yet flat on your feet to contain your excitement—your relief.

it was awkward at first, to find your footing. your nose would bump into his, teeth as well, but dick chuckled, assuring you this will always happen.

unbeknownst to you, dick’s been wanting to do this since he met you, and he savored every second. “remember what i told you… build it up.” he reminded you because you were getting eager, following his lead but returning his kiss in hard sucks. “nice and slow.”

peter’s palm on your thigh pressed gently onto your bare skin, mistakenly under the lift of your shorts because he was too in awe of the kiss, but they grounded you from your brief flight to the heavenly clouds nonetheless.

“nice and slow…” dick repeated, and you succumbed to his reminder like a prodigy. “that’s it.” it lasted for a few seconds longer until you pulled away to capture your breath again. your lips tingled still, remembering the taste of spearmint when dick’s breath ghosted on your skin.

“was that okay?” an innocent question, but you swore you stole that exact same tone from a porn you watched the other day.

“a natural,” dick laughed, stroking your hair back and you’ve never see him so affectionate—loving, as he doted on you. “try it on peter. more touching though, if you’re okay with that.”

you nodded and turned your head, meeting peter’s gaze with a flushed smile, your lips slightly swollen from your previous endeavor. “I’m okay with that.”

“me too.” peter smiled, only softening when you leaned in, and it completed hid against you when you captured his smile with a kiss.

his hand gently placed on the back of your head when you did and he pulled you closer into him, returning the kiss, and spilling his breath into yours, while at the same time, drawing yours out. “rub my chest, i like it when people do that.” peter whispered in between each kiss.

you do as you were told, a gentle hand to peter’s broad chest, and you feel yourself tightening, satisfied with how intimate this all is as you felt the muscles on his chest through the fabric.

in the meantime, dick’s been squeezing at the bulge in his pants, containing his will to completely ravish you simply by watching the way you and peter made out. he’s always been observant, noticing the strong twitching of peter’s own erection, and soon yours when peter slid his tongue into your mouth.

it was tantalizing—breath-taking— watching intimacy build up and vulnerabilities become unimaginably pliant before him. the pink muscles looped and swirled with one another, spreading and sharing sticky saliva until your mouth and peter’s were practically coated in it, glossed in sheen.

when peter pulled away, your lips were immediately stolen by dick again, kissing you with more strength than before, stubbornly refusing the chance for you to restock on oxygen as he wanted a taste of you too. the air became thicker, harder to breathe, but you basked in the taste, the wetness of dick’s tongue, and allowed yourself to become weak in his arms when he took you in, embraced you closely. “mmf...” you moaned out, breathing harder.

but just like dick, peter wasn’t finished with you, directing his tongue and lips to the back of your neck when you turned away. his ticklish and fleeting kisses pulled you back into peter’s arms, but dick noticed and pulled you forward: a stubborn game of gentle tug of war.

they wanted you, every piece of you. it was telling as peter sucked into your neck, venomous and poisoning, and when dick began directing your hand under his shirt, allowing you to feel his toned stomach and chest, and eventually his clothed erection, making you squeeze around it with an open palm.

lessons have completely escaped to the back of minds, and all that remained was pure lust.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to.” dick reassured. though, ironically, his hand atop of yours, relieving the ache in his pants continued.

through swollen lips, you managed to mutter, distracted by peter’s bruising sucks to other areas of your neck and skin, whimpering when he bit a little too hard. “i did say teach me everything…” his hands were under your shirt now, warming your bare skin with his palms, excited, but fleeting as they immediately tied to the buttons of your shorts when you gave the okay.

“hey, hey,” dick laughed, watching the way peter has grown grandly impatient. “you’re going to scare him, horn dog.” he left a kiss on your lips, a quick one before leaning past you to kiss peter.

you watched in awe at what a kiss was supposed to be like: burning with ease and passion with every stroke of their lips, no hesitation at all—just a moment of time that they’ll remember. you backed into the bed and leaned against the headboard as they kissed at the foot. you don’t remember having your hand down your shorts, but you do, palming yourself to your own private show.

the kiss ran sloppy, drool dripping down either chins, stained with intimacy, and clothes were quickly tossed to the side, with no care in the world.

you followed.

even though you were similar height to peter, he was stronger—they both were. and now, you felt smaller as they climbed onto the bed, towards you, bare and hardened. you watched breathlessly, as their cocks swung heavy with heat. peter’s pre-cum dripped thickly in yearn for something to fuck, while dick’s throbbed for something to fill—a porn scene come to life—and you were left agape, jaw and legs.

“kinda surprised we’ve never done this sooner,” peter said, you weren’t used to his voice so low. kneeling on the bed, by your left hip, he took your hand and kissed the palm, the wrist of it, skimmed his lips over your forearm before guiding It toward his cock, aching for your touch. “though, was hoping i’d have you to myself, but…” gently, your hand was cradled to wrap around his shaft, warm and running with veins, it pulsed. “this works too.”

your chest rose with every spoken word, and peter has never looked hotter. taking control of you like that made your skin crawl, a spell that commanded you to move your hand back and forth, conjuring you to pump him in slow strokes.

contrary to his overall demeanor, his actions were of warmth. caresses to your head, doting on you with honey dripping from his gaze and cotton in touch while you sinned.

you didn’t know where to look—to fall in love with the way peter gazed at you like a painting in a museum, or to salivate over the way his pre-cum leaked thickly over your hand when you squeeze it out of him, like a bottle of maple syrup.

that became more a problem—a dilemma—when you felt a wetness over your right nipple, then a sting when dick bites to get your attention—selfish and stubborn, like always. “are you sure this wasn’t a tactic to get all three of us in the same room? you seem comfortable.”

he tongued your nub, flicking back and forth to make you squirm, to hear the sound of your moans, to be the reason you have trouble sleeping at night. alongside, his palm ran over your body—chest first, down your stomach, and finally, your erect cock and balls.

you watched, breathless, continuing to stroke peter’s cock and he’d lean over to give you a few kisses here and there. for the most part, he was content like this, watching you squirm while maintaining to do the best to pleasure him.

“no, i swear- it’s just-“ dick played with your balls, squeezing and tugging on the tight sack to loosen them. every man was sensitive down there, you were no exception. “you guys made me feel safe, so…”

“well,” you looked up when peter spoke, his eyes fluttered shut, and you only got them to open when you thumbed the slit of his head, rubbing slick all over his glans, then the length of his cock when you continued stroking. “we are superheroes.”

you all laughed, switching gazes between the both of them, but it was dick’s mouth suddenly wrapping around you that made you concentrate only on him.

“oh, fuck…” warmth surrounded you, inhaled you in one shallow breath, before dick pulled you out of his wet mouth, taunting you with the loss of heat.

“it’s just like kissing,” he said, licking a stripe over the underside of your cock, tonguing his favorite spot: the neck of the glans and the frenulum. dick followed the lines of flesh with precision, leading the very tip of his tongue into the duct of your urethra—once again, tonguing it while his eyes focused on you, devious. “but let curiosity take you further and explore every part of their body.”

“m-mm…” you were sure there was meaning to his words, but they fell on deaf ears. instead, you focused on the ample heat that engulfed you again, moaning.

“every.” dick took you in and pulled you out with a pop.

“fuck-“ you breathed out, curling your toes into the sheets.

“part.” holding your cock up and stroking sloppily, he inhaled your ballsack. sweaty and musty, they must’ve been, but dick devoured the scent, the taste of sins with hungry sucks and licks—ardent and full of fervor.

and at the moment where you most expected to let out a moan, it was shoved down your throat when peter suddenly situated you in between his legs and filled your mouth with his thick cock, smelling of sweat and sex when you inhaled near his trimmed hairs.

“come on,” peter briefly pulled out, tapping the plump tip over your lips. “you learn best when you demonstrate what you’ve been taught.”

peter covered your view of dick, but you weren’t sure if you needed to see him because you felt every maneuver of dick’s tongue, now drowning your cock with his mouth while he continued assaulting your sensitive balls, tugging and squeezing.

you looked up and peter never looked bigger, more intimidating, but it’s become your new addiction, and you take his cock, holding it thick and take in what you can. it was barely past the tip before you could feel yourself gagging, but with peter’s reassurance, you swallow more of him every time you went down, slicking him up with your spit.

“how’s he doing, pete?” your cock was left cold when dick pulled away to speak, but he made up for it with his hand, stroking his spit with your cock.

“he really is a natural.” peter chuckled, watching you with a scrunched face of pleasure whenever you pulled him deeper into your mouth. almost down your throat now, but he pulled his cock back completely before you can fully take him. “you try.”

“fuck, yes.” dick leaped over and used the spit from your length earlier to lube his own cock, spitting in his palm and stroking when it wasn’t slicked to his likening while peter scooted back to kneeling at your side, stroking himself now.

as your head was positioned in between both their cocks, dick’s was bigger, thicker—a mouth stretcher you’d imagine. but peter’s was longer, veinier, and the only thing they had in common was that their balls hung loose. in porn terms, hung like a horse.

and on this very day, you considered yourself a lucky man because you have no objection to either, no will to pick and choose.

“look at you,” dick’s voice was rugged, deep, and he pushed his cock past your swollen lips. there was a clear difference in girth. your mouth was stretched wide, and you could only hum a sound of satisfaction, even with the slight sting from the stretch of skin. “who knew you’d be such a cock lover, hm?”

“he can’t get enough of it, god…” peter was in awe, salivating and stroking quicker at the sight.

two hands kept dick’s cock still in your mouth while you sucked on the bulbous tip like a lollipop. the rest of your hands stroked whatever you couldn’t mange to fit in your mouth. you were apologetic at first, but dick’s smirk told a simple story of his ego, clearly aroused by the size of his own cock as it only grew wider when you struggled downing him, gagging with a whimper.

“come on… (m/n), you can do better than that. you were so good at sucking peter off, kissing us too. what happened?” dick pulled away to stroke himself with your spit, but he quickly buried any excuses into your throat when he pushed himself into your mouth.

“you’re too comfortable now, (m/n). you’re slacking…” peter joined the banter, and when dick pulled out of your mouth, peter’s cock replaced the loss of warmth to your surprise.

holy shit, this is happening.

like a see-saw, the two men alternated in filling your mouth, stuffing saliva further and further down your throat, without allowing a single excuse from you to escape. it’s buried now, deep in the pit of your stomach, and all you can do was be the prodigy that they wished for you to be.

when it was dick’s turn to stretch your mouth, you made sure that peter’s cock wasn’t left abandoned, stroking him with distracted strokes, and vice versa when it was his turn at your throat. you overworked yourself in pleasuring your two best friends, making sure they were satisfied with you, with your mouth as you took more of them without a single plea for a break.

“fuck, there we go…” occasionally, dick would take control by holding the back of your head and fucking inside of your tight mouth. drool leaked down either corners of your mouth while you let him, tears brimming in your eyes when your throat tightened again, a familiar feeling that dick encouraged to hold back. “there’s my star. taking cock like a good student.”

if there was one thing that these very brief lessons have taught you, you were exactly what they named you: a cock lover. you slurped at whatever—whoever—entered your mouth absentmindedly, spat on cocks that have begun to look more or less the same, because it was dizzying now. your cock was left alone, but it stood tall and proud, throbbing as the two men harassed your face and mouth with their erections. one would gag you while the other had his balls shoved to your face and nose, sliding its wet, dirty slick all over your skin, staining you with lust.

it alternated like this for a while, and you were content, so was dick and peter. but you needed more—something to fill you elsewhere that wasn’t your dirty mouth. and you pleaded with your eyes, looking up at your best friends with delighted tears, a mouthful of cock, and a gaze only a cock loving whore could have—and they recognized it.

peter was reluctant to pull away, he was so close. but he’s always been selfless. he released his hold on you and it was a struggle to pull you away, but he did with your lips suctioning off with a quiet pop. a thick string of spit that once connected between your lips and peter’s cock laid like webs on your chin, cooling as you watched the two men reposition themselves.

“i’m going to assume we don’t need a lesson in how to finger yourself, hm?” dick whispered against your swollen lips and kissed you again. you were entranced under his tongue, swirling all over yours like ocean waves while you touched yourself to his licks. you twisted and pinched your nipples, tugged on them with the occasional help from dick, then stroked your cock while dick continued from peter’s original trail of bruising kisses to mark his own territory on your body. you were as horny as they were, if not hornier, and you needed them inside of you, in any way possible.

“fuck, i need you guys so bad.” breathless in your moans, your legs squirmed when you felt something wet between your thighs when they were raised, peter’s nice girth sliding in between the plump skin.

he thrusted himself slow and steady while he worked on your hole, reaching down to prepare you with his lubed digits, one by one. you’ve done this before, they were surely aware, so it wasn’t a unit that was particularly focused.

in between preparation, your mouth remained on dick’s cock again, delivering him your fullest attention with several lathers of your tongue, sucking hard and hollow, deep into your throat. you remember what he taught you and occasionally stuffed your mouth with his balls, sucking on the weight and letting go with a pull because you got off on seeing how they tensed and jiggled when you did.

“i’ll go slow.” peter leaned in with your legs hooked over his shoulders, bending you back, and kissing the tip of your nose when he was close enough to your face. “tell me if you want to stop.”

once you nodded, allowing him the will to deliver on his promise, peter made sure to lube himself up once more before pushing inside of you, slow and steady. he was careful, watching your face as it scrunched when the head slid in—burned when the rest of him filled you to the brim.

it was almost like you couldn’t breathe. it was too much, to be bearing all of this pain alone, but at the same time, you held peter close, wrapped your arms around him to prevent him from leaving you while you buried tiny whimpers into his neck, because you don’t want to stop feeling it, so full and devoured. it was written all over their faces when you glanced at them—they didn’t want to stop either.

peter and dick decorated your skin in wet kisses, distracting you from the pain while peter began to find a rhythm. although slow, you were beginning to familiarize yourself with this pain. soon after, pleasure, when he struck something inside of you, a certain spot.

“oh- peter, right there, fuck.” your legged tightened around him and the sweat from your thighs rolled back onto your stomach when peter re-adjusted himself to fuck you at a higher angle, folding you onto your back.

“yeah? right here?” peter thrusted into that spot dead-on, like a dart to a bullseye, and you groaned, your throat aching in pleasure, but dick pacified it with his cock again, filling you up once more. “oh fuck, look at you. all of your holes are filled up, fuck… so fucking tight”

“baby, you’re doing a great job, god…” your heart beat when dick called you that. it was always something he said as a joke when he arrived to your place. honey, darling, you name it, but the fact that it came out so genuine, it made your skin flush red and you could only respond in moans while you sucked him off. “i think he likes it when you fuck him like that, pete.”

for the first time, you felt wanted.

peter’s thrusts were hard and strong, his balls swung into with every rhythm. you can see the muscles in his thighs flexing whenever he pounded down into your tight hole, your bodies colliding like waves to a rock. it stung whenever his skin slapped into yours, sweaty and musky, but the sinful sounds were well-worth the prize as you basked in them, in the taste of dick’s cock, the sound of peter’s grunts, the flutter of dick’s eyes when you gargled his cock again, deeper, the sweat dripping from peter’s forehead and body—the bedroom hailed of sex. it rocked of brutal creaks and slams as both of your holes were violated and filled to the very brim, all driven by pure lust.

after some time, they switched spots, tag-teaming so dick can have his turn at your hole. unlike peter, he was rougher, immediately pounding into you because he was sex-crazed about you, couldn’t stop thinking about you since day one of meeting you.

“fuck, better than i’ve ever imagined,” he laughed into your mouth, kissing you sloppily, and pulling away when peter’s cock impatiently wedged himself in between the kiss, and you were back to sucking and jerking off cock again—no complaints. “still so tight, even after peter fucked you so hard…”

“it’s like he was made to be a whore, right?” such vulgar language from your best friends broke the original portrayal you had of them. now, all you could think about was how they wanted to absolutely make a wreck out of you, de-blossom your naive thoughts of what your first time should’ve been like.

it wasn’t what you had imagined. it was supposed to be with one person. a full-time commitment to your relationship. a loving pair holding each other close when they both climax. it was going to be special.

but this… you thought to yourself as you were fucked into the bedsheets with absolutely no mercy, your ass pained and bruised from dick’s muscular hips driving into you every time he came down, harassing you in that familiar spot again.

this was… peter pushed on your bottom lip with two fingers to open your mouth, then spitting in the void, some catching onto your tongue, before shoving his swollen cock inside of you again, aching to touch—to fuck.

dick palmed your cock as you writhed, bent under him, moaned around peter’s long cock. he gathered all of his strength left to tickle you deep, to reach inside of you with his cock, breathless and panting with every thrust that rocked the two of you together—three, when peter fucked into your mouth.

this was so much fucking better.

“holy shit-“ under dick’s touch, you came hard in several thick ropes, all over his fist, and then the sweat of your body when he opened his palm. you were a natural shooter, accidentally spraying your face with your own thick semen, and you heard peter and dick moan in unison, in awe.

seeing you dressed in cum like this had them race each other to their climax. dick fucked you harder, his grasp on your hips bruising and white, while peter held onto your head and met your throat with his cock, repeatedly forceful in strength. you gagged around him, and they only benefitted from every sound you made.

“fuck, i’m going to-“ you watched peter’s abs flexed, tightened as his stomach pooled with pleasure, and you can hear the holy bells ring when he pulled out of your mouth, jerking his wet and slimy cock off until he came undone in thick spurts, all over your pretty face. not a single shot was missed, painting you in white like a canvas with every last drop.

you were still high off of your own orgasm, and you turned your head to watch dick fuck himself into you, clearly wonder-strucked by the scene before him. you were covered in cum all over. they beckoned him to join, the many loads on your body. they were begging now, a mantra of pleas pulled him closer to you, and he can smell the sex off of you, inhaled peter’s musk as well, and again—those holy bells rang.

with the speed of lightning, dick pulled himself out of your abused hole and climbed over to kneel over your chest, fucking into his fist while simultaneously jerking his cock off over your face. to your cum-covered body, to peter kissing his spunk off your cheek and chin then your lips, to the taste of your own cum when you swiped a load off your chest and fed it into dick’s mouth. he suckled, bittersweet salt spread over his tongue, and he was ravished by the taste of you.

dick then pushed his hips out and aimed his cock over your lips, still connected to peter’s for a messy kiss, stroking until the only reason he tore his gaze away was because his lids fell heavy, ceased his sight to roll his eyes back, and came with a shudder. thick ropes of cum inked on your face and peter’s, but most of it fell to your connected lips.

“fuck, that’s hot…” dick muttered, rolling his shoulders back while he milked himself to you and peter making out, cum-stained and all. you moaned at the taste, saltier than yours and peter’s, and peter does the same while scraping a load of warm cum from the corner of your cheek and into his mouth before kissing you again, swapping the gloopy residue with a sloppy exchange of tongues.

he was envious, watching how the sticky load caught onto your lips then peter’s when he squeezed himself dry. before you and peter could take all of his cum for yourself, he leaned down to join peter for a kiss, stealing the mound of cum that peter has expertly hidden on his tongue. dick didn’t know who he was tasting anymore. but whether it was you, peter, or himself, it was delectable, and he wanted to share the delightful taste with you. he spat the mixture of cum and spit inside of your mouth before webbing his lips to yours, sealing it with one final breathless kiss.

“so, are lessons still on for next week or?” peter lay by your side, and dick joined the other, still dizzied from his high as telling by his shut eyes and drawn out pants.

“i mean… i’m still up for it if you guys are?” you said, leaning over to press a kiss to peter’s cheek. you took his smile as an answer and looked to dick for his.

“mm... yeah.” dick sleepily opened his eyes, his locks stuck to his sweaty forehead while he buried himself under the blanket. you felt his arms wrap around your waist once he got comfortable, muttering a kiss to your shoulder before dozing off.

“we’re good teachers, pete.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

6K notes · View notes

agirlwithglam · 17 days

Text

🎀 The It Girl Lifestyle Guide 🎀

hi girlies! this guide is a part of the big series: The Ultimate It-Girlism Guide. in this mini guide i'll be including all things health, morning/nighttime routines, and more!

How to create your ideal morning / night / any other routine:

Here’s a mini step by step guide to curating a routine that works specifically for YOU, tailored to your own needs and wants. This can be for any routine u wanna create: morning, night, after school, after work, before school/ work, etc etc.

Apps / things needed:

ChatGPT (or an AI like that- it’s not completely necessary but it’s useful)

Notes app / docs app. (Or a pen and paper- this will be to write down the routine!)

Calendar app (optional tbh)

Ok so first off: decide what you want in your routine. Make a list in no particular order of what you need/ want in the routine.

Some examples:

Once you’ve created this list, you’re pretty much half way done. In this next part you can use chat GPT to make it easier, or use your own mind.

The next thing to do is: ask chatGPT to make a routine with the steps u wanted.

Make sure to mention what time your routine starts and ends. And if there’s anything you want to change, you can just ask the AI or make those changes yourself!

The last step is to write it down!

You can either write it down on the notes app, docs, on a journal/ piece of paper, anything that’s easily accessible to you. I heavily recommend writing it down somewhere, but if you dont want to you can…

Put it into your calander. This can help you be a bit more organised, but it’s not completely needed. As long as it’s written down somewhere- so you dont need to always remember it- you’re good.

Health and wellness

In this section, i will be talking about fitness, mental health and physical health. I will mention some useful tips to finally start, how to overcome procrastination, and how to take care of that area of your body.

1. FITNESS.

Numero uno: fitness! I’m not going to go yapping on about how fitness is so important- im assuming you all know that by now. But let me just remind you that staying fit is not only exercising or going to the gym everyday. It can be: running, going for a walk, playing a sport, yoga, pilates, dancing, cycling, and THE LIST GOES ON. DO anything that moves your body and gets you fit!

Here are some tips to help you get started:

Start small. Set small goals first. Set SMART goals

Choose the activities you enjoy. Like i mentioned earlier, there’s tons of ways to stay fit- cycling, running, swimming, yoga, dance, sports, etc. etc. (if you like, joining a class or working out with friends can help you stay motivated!)

Stay consistent. I know i know, this is said everywhere. But there is no progress without consistency. Even if you can’t do a whole workout one day, try and do 10 jumping jacks, or 5 pushups. Do whatever you can. Remember: 1% is better than 0.

Create a vision board. You can create one yourself, or find tons of them off Pinterest. Vision boards will make the process so much more fun and will certainly motivate you.

Set a reward system. Tell yourself: if you do this high intensity workout now, you can go to the spa later or watch tv.

Find a why. This goes for like everything tbh. If your why is big enough, you are capable of doing anything (even finding that lost book that you owe the library!) basically, are you doing this to get ripped? With tons of abs, or to get strong and impress people? Or are you doing this to boost your self esteem and improve your health?

2. FOOD & NUTRITION.

Balanced diet: eat the rainbow! Meaning- eat meals with a variety of different colours. Fruits, vegetables, proteins, carbohydrates, etc. it’s completely alright to eat a chocolate, but remember: EVERYTHING IN MODERATION.

Hydration: aim for at least 8 glasses of water a day. Trust me, drinking the magical potion that is water will help you SO much! It can help you clear your skin, have pink uncrusty lips, keep you fit and soooo much more.

Mindful eating: in the book IKIGAI it is said that you should only eat until you’re 80% full. Not 100%. Why? Because the time it takes for you to digest the food will have already made you extremely full. You may even have a stomachache. Studies also show that cutting back on calories can lead to better heart health, longevity, and weight loss.

Here are some tips to manage cravings:

Find healthier alternatives. If you are craving something sweet like chocolate, have something like a sweet fruit. If you crave something salty, try nuts. If you can’t think of any, search up some healthier alternatives to it!

Create more friction for junk, and less friction for healthy. This concept was said in the book Atomic Habits by James Clear. What does it mean? Make sure that it takes a lot of energy to get the unhealthy junk food. Maybe keep them high up in a cupboard so whenever you want it you have to go get a ladder, climb up, and then get it. And keep the healthy food in easy reach. Like some fruits open on a table, etc. (also remember to keep some actually yummy healthy food like Greek yogurt or protein bars.)

Distract yourself. Go do a workout or engage your mind in a hobby that you enjoy. Basically take your mind off food.

Yummy water. Make some lemonade for yourself. Or perhaps add slices of lemon, cucumber, mint or strawberries to it for some flavours. I’d do some research on this cus i know that some combos can rly help for things like clearing your skin, boosting energy, etc.

3. MENTAL HEALTH

Taking care of your mental health is just as important as taking care of your physical health. It affects how we think, feel and act and also determines how we handle stress, relate to others, relationships, etc.

Of course there will be ups and downs for our mental health. It’s not something that you can just fix once and it’ll be good forever. No, it’s a rollercoaster. But having a “good” mental health is really important for a successful lifestyle.

Here are some tips to help you improve your mental health:

Meditation / deep breathing. I can’t emphasise how important this is. Even 1-2 minutes a day is good. Start small. You dont even need to be sitting crossed legged for this. Whether you’re in class, on a vehicle or in a stressful situation; just breathe. Take a deep breath, and out. Do it right now.

Journalling. Write. It. Out. Writing your problems and worries out is SOO therapeutic, especially when you want to calm down. There are SO MANY benefits to journalling. But remember that once you’ve ranted on the paper, tear it, rip it, and watch it burn. (Don’t keep a journal for this unless you KNOW 150% that no ones ever gonna read it. Trust me, it’s terrifying knowing that someone’s read that.) other things you can do is create a gratitude journal, so whenever you’re feeling low you can just go to it or write in it.

Self careee!! Create time for self care in your week. Because if you do that, it’s gonna be that one thing which you’ll be looking forward to each week, which will make life SO much more fun and bearable. For me, my forms of self care are watching thewizardliz or tam Kaur, reading, watching a movie at night, etc.

POSITIVE. SELF. TALK. Need i say more? What you say to yourself, is what you believe. And what you believe reflects in your external life.

Sing your heart out to Olivia Rodrigo. I swear this is actually so calming and therapeutic. Basically: express your feelings. If you’re angry at someone, feeling grief or really hurt by someone, screaming to Olivia Rodrigo songs in my bedroom is my go-to (i just make sure not to do it when others can here hehe). You can punch your pillow, scream, cry, etc.

Remember honey: this too will pass. Repeat that over in your head. This will pass. This will pass. This will pass. I know you may be going through the toughest time ever, but this too will pass. Nothing is forever. You’ve gotten through so much worse. You’ve got this.

!! Girls, please remember that these are just some tips. I am NOT a professional. If you really feel horrible every single day, go to therapy or counselling. Also contact mental health hotlines or emergency numbers if needed.

Mkay thats it! I hope this was of some value to you, and stay tuned for the next guide in the it girl series!

921 notes · View notes

honeyhoshi · 17 days

Text

scarlet, starlet pt. 1

summary: mingyu intends to make his girlfriend's wishes come true — all of them.

this a part of the man of the match universe

genre: professional football (soccer) mingyu, idol oc, porn with a little plot

wordcount: 3,251

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader

warnings: DDlg kink, d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, afab reader, lots of mentions of female anatomy, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, making out, dry humping, finger sucking, fingering, squirting, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), slight cum play, cum eating, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, dirty talk

author's notes: yet another work written for my lovely @madeforgyu! this is just part 1 of her birthday gift and is a part of the universe we have lovingly poured soooo much time and effort in. wuv u and all of that!

The excitement that comes with a new album and a comeback sometimes gets lost in just how complicated AM♡RE’s schedule has become. In between having to do pre-recording as a whole team, music shows would request certain members to be part of other variety segments which allowed other members to rest or even take on other schedules.

This led to fussy 4AM pre-recording sessions then running back to the company office to film overseas interviews and just napping during the car rides to and from one venue or another. By the time the whole team made it back to the KBS building for the live broadcast, the only thing fueling you was adrenaline and obligation. It’s a so-so way of celebrating your twenty-fourth birthday.

You try to shake it out of your system when you think of the cute pink drink truck that was parked by the entrance to the studio that your fans were enjoying. You think it could be a lot worse because you did catch a glimpse of the many birthday ads all over Seoul as you moved from one location to another.

But still, it could be better too.

With all the last minute activities and schedules being fit into every free moment you had in the past few weeks, it had been difficult to really set any celebration plans into stone with your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

A pout makes itself present on your face the second you start thinking of him. Having Mingyu around would make everything that wasn’t ideal about your birthday just simply melt away.

At this point, a message from him would suffice. You’re no stranger to receiving and sending messages at odd times but after Mingyu’s good morning message, all your other texts had gone unread.

You’re wracking your head if he had mentioned anything scheduled today but you come up with nothing because you can clearly remember that he said he was taking the entire day off to celebrate with you.

The thought sticks even as you’re being ushered on stage and you only really snap out of it as you find yourself in front of the crowd, the rest of your members bowing and waving before you have to take your starting positions.

You shake it off, thinking instead of how you’re sure a message from Mingyu will greet you the moment you step off stage.

You’re greeted by something far better than a text message when the music cuts and you’re trying to catch your breath.

A large smile is still plastered on your face as the thrill and joy of performing courses through you. The cheers fill you with warmth and satisfaction, hoping that you had given a good performance for the live show’s crowd, but a voice cuts through the usual noise of fans.

There’s a booming voice coming from the side stage and a “That’s my girl!” that sets every nerve on your body aflame in embarrassment and pride in equal measures.

It’s your boyfriend.

It’s Mingyu.

A bright smile splits your face and you can’t help the flush that paints your face pink as the rest of your members turn to see the afternoon’s special guest. With everyone on stage giggling and whispering amongst themselves with their lapels turned away from their mouths, even the crowd was starting to realize that something out of the norm was going on.

You make your goodbyes quick, giving deep bows of appreciation, but the excitement coursing through your body can’t be contained.

Once your leader has deemed you polite enough, offering you a sympathetic smile and nodding towards the general direction of the backstage area, you can’t move fast enough.

You briskly walk towards Mingyu who, despite his effort at dressing to be discreet, is still the most eye-catching person in the room. Standing tall and proud in the hustle and bustle of the music show staff is the top scorer of the Cheongdam Diamonds, offering you the most wicked grin.

There are so many eyes around you. Looks of jealousy, resentment, and also awe are no longer strange when either you or Mingyu are in the room. Having both of you present just meant all of the above, but a hundredfold. None of that matters to you at all when you let out a squeal and jump into his arms.

You don’t care. You’ve stopped caring. Let them see.

You can no longer count how many bad ideas have become good ones when Mingyu whispers them into your ear. You can’t even remember a time you’ve said no to him and his clever ideas. Not that you ever would really, especially when Mingyu always makes it worth your time.

It starts innocently enough, as it always does with you and Mingyu.

The second you managed to drag him into your dressing room, locking the door behind him, you had peppered his face and mouth with as many kisses as you could as he giggled and whispered birthday greetings every time your lips parted.

In no time, Mingyu had managed to wrap your legs around his waist and was guiding you as you slowly rocked your hips down onto his. The friction was so delicious even through all the layers of your stage costume but you knew that this would hardly suffice for either of you.

“I fucking hate these shorts,” Mingyu says with a grimace as his hands find their way to your ass, upset to find the layer of your safety shorts standing in his way.

Mingyu has always hated it when he would reach down and find your smooth skin covered with a seemingly offensive piece of clothing. On most days you barely wore any underwear around the house, just the way he likes it.

You love the little look of annoyance in his face and trace the lines of his eyebrows as you sit pretty on his lap, “They’re there to protect me.”

Mingyu can only snort at that.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Imagine if we stopped wearing these, then everyone would see what’s yours, Daddy.”

You feel his frown relax underneath your finger, “We can’t have that now, can we?”

“Nuh-uh,” You answer, allowing Mingyu to guide your hips. Even through the stupid safety shorts you could feel how his cock was pressing against the zipper of his jeans and Mingyu always knew how to find the cleft of your center to ensure that you were grinding your clit onto him.

“Why’s that?” He whispers against your lips, tongue flicking out to lick at your upper lip for just a split second.

You bite your tongue at the pleasure slowly building up between your legs and how he’s teasing you with his tongue, “Because this is yours.”

He makes a face of faux confusion before asking, “What exactly is mine?”

“This pussy.”

“Good girl.”

In no time, Mingyu has you strip for him and you stand before him, completely devoid of your costume. In the back of your head you can already imagine the frustration of the staff member assigned to assist you with getting fully dressed again, but the look Mingyu gives you has you pushing the thought away.

He’s sprawled on the couch as if he owned it and you’re dying to fall to your knees between his spread legs, but the second you move to do so, Mingyu grabs your wrist to stop you.

“It’s my sweet girl’s birthday today, so we’ll do all the stuff you like,” He says, standing up and crowding you against the counters littered with different makeup brushes and pots of eyeshadow and powder puffs.

“But I want to suck your cock,” You state as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mingyu chuckles and you meet his eyes. You’re entranced.

“I know you do, love. But I don’t want you to bruise your knees when I’m dressing you back in that little skirt.”

He has a point and you frown, “How about tonight?”

He smiles as he brings three fingers up to your mouth, “Okay, I’ll even let you choke on it. Now suck on Dad’s fingers, get them nice and messy.”

You immediately let your mouth fall open and start to lap at the three fingers Mingyu offers you, savoring the salt of his skin and the rough pads of his fingers. If you tried hard enough you could pretend they were his cock, hard and smooth and so so delicious. Your little daydream has you salivating in no time, coating Mingyu’s fingers and lubricating them enough for what he’s no doubt about to do to you.

“Look at that little mouth go,” He marvels, “So small, three fingers can barely fit. Are you sure you can suck my cock?”

You’re shaken from your thoughts and immediately a look of distress spreads on your face, “Yes, it can fit! I can make it fit. You’ll make it fit, won’t you?”

Mingyu’s fingers are barely out of your mouth as you try to convince him. The look on your face makes Mingyu smile. It’s horrible and mean and you love it so much.

“Yeah, I’ll make it fit. I’ll make sure my baby will take it.”

You preen at the promise and wait in anticipation as he pulls his hands away from your lips and pressing his mouth against yours.

This kiss was not exactly a typical one. Instead of pressing your lips together, Mingyu licks into your mouth, his tongue bullying its way inside and pushing your own tongue out of the way. He runs this tongue against the roof of your mouth and against your teeth until you slowly start to press your tongue against his.

You groan in relief as he finally eases up to kiss you properly but tense up when you feel one of his hands grab at your left thigh to lift it up and prop it up on the counter. This position has you spread wide open for him. He loves it when he can see all of you.

The slick that’s been gathering between your folds is surely visible in this position and it makes you clench around nothing as Mingyu pulls away to survey you in this position.

“So so pretty,” He whispers underneath his breath, not even to you, just to himself, “Going to destroy this tiny pussy.”

That’s as much warning as you get before he presses two fingers into you at once.

Mingyu is bigger than most men in all aspects. He’s tall and broad, having put in so much time to get his physique to where it is now. His sheer size followed everywhere else. His fingers were long and thick and the press of two into your core has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Whether it was his cock or his fingers, you knew to always expect a stretch. And you loved it.

“Sooo good, Daddy,” is all you can muster as Mingyu sets a punishing pace that has you trembling in his arms in no time.

Each curl of his fingers sent a jolt down your spine that had you inching closer to the edge despite how Mingyu had just started.

“My pussy is taking two fingers so well,” He says, “I think three would be even better.”

You hate that he pulls his fingers out but you’re immediately placated when he brings the two fingers to his mouth to suck your slick off of them.

He makes a noise of delight before removing his fingers and leaning down. For a second you think he’s going to eat you out but instead Mingyu spits out the saliva and slick he’s collected in his mouth and lets it drip down from your clit.

He moves back to take in the absolutely debauched state of your pussy, smiling to himself, pleased at how messy he’s gotten you, before spreading the wetness with his soiled fingers.

“Are you ready for three, little girl?” He asks, almost mocking. You preen at the nickname and at the promise of the stretch of three fingers inside of you.

Even with the preparation he had given you, he punches a deep exhale from you and he pushes three fingers. The fit is so tight that you can feel how the rough pads of his fingers are. He always did refuse to wear gloves when he lifted weights. Now you want to thank him for it, because the friction inside you makes you want to scream.

It doesn’t help how slowly he’s going either. He’s relishing in how your walls wrap around his fingers, how you tighten up when he slips in a little further. And when he crooks his fingers just right, he can feel how you’re getting just a little bit wetter, slicker.

“You take me so good,” He whispers against your lips, so close it's almost a kiss.

You’re breathless though, mouth slightly ajar, waiting for his tongue to slither between your lips. He doesn’t make a move though aside from a cocky smirk and an arched brow.

Mingyu lets his fingers continue on with their noble job of getting you closer and closer to the edge. Each push and pull of his digits inside you set your nerves alight, but the delicate movement of his right hands make you want to die.

Even as he’s coaxing and orgasm with three fingers on his left hand, the fingers on his right are tracing delicate swirls and unrecognizable patterns along your inner thigh. Every now and then they’d go higher, just by the lips of your pussy.

The pace is much too slow for your liking and you’re worried that your absence would start to seem suspicious. You weren’t at Mingyu’s training center where everything is kept under lock and key with a very well written NDA. You were at Music Bank where staff members were nosy and there was surely another girl group member roaming the halls, praying for your downfall.

“Daddy, faster,” Is all you can manage in between kisses on Mingyu’s jawline, licking a stripe to taste the salt of his sweat and that underlying tinge of just him.

You don’t expect his free hand to come and grip the underside of your jaw, his fingers long enough to reach both sides of your cheeks. He applies just the right pressure to squeeze your cheeks and force your lips into a pucker.

It would be cute if not for the look on Mingyu’s face.

“This is a birthday gift, angel. Be good while I give it to you, hmm?” He says as he begins to pick up the pace.

In no time the pace is punishing, the only thing slowing Mingyu down is how each push of his fingers back inside of you required a stretch and each time your walls made space for him inside you, you let out a little whimper.

When Mingyu presses his thumb against your clit, adding to the already intense pleasure, you can barely keep it together. In no time you feel the telltale signs of an inevitable orgasm.

No matter the method, every single orgasm Mingyu has ever given you was mind blowing, and this would be no exception. You feel the wetness dripping down your ass before you’re comprehending what exactly has happened, having difficulty in processing the immense pleasure coursing through you, your eyes slipping shut at the feeling of cumming all over Mingyu’s fingers.

Your walls tighten around him, even as you spill into his open palm and he continues to push in and out, droplets falling to the floor beneath you and between his feet.

Mingyu’s eyes are fixed on your entrance as he keeps you filled, pleased with how stretched out you are, ready for him to just slip in.

He pulls his fingers out only to move them to cover your clit, gently rubbing, keeping you on the precipice of pleasure, not allowing you a moment to come back to Earth. You’re in that heady space only he take you.

“Eyes open, baby. Watch daddy fuck his cock into you,” Mingyu says with a light slap to your face.

He moves and lifts your other leg up, maneuvering your hands that are wrapped around him to hold yourself open, keeping you fully spread open and seated on the dressing room counter.

Mingyu grasps his cock and gives himself one, two, three pumps to ease the initial need for friction, before he taps the now leaking tip against your clit. A pearlescent drop of precum falls on the hood of your clit and you watch, helpless as he harshly swipes at it with his thumb.

You hiss at rough handling but are immediately silenced when he brings the thumb up and shoves it into your mouth. He presses down on your tongue as if to wipe the cum off his finger.

He grabs a fistful of the hair at the nape of your neck and smashes your mouths together. You love the way even his mouth seems to hold dominance over your own. The movements, no matter how unruly, are still just the right thing to get you going once more.

“We taste so good together, huh?” He whispers after fucking your mouth with his tongue. He pulls away slightly and lolls out his tongue to let a thick wad of spit fall from his lips down to your center.

The impact of the warm liquid has your gaping hole clenching around nothing.

It pleases Mingyu so much that he forgoes all the other teasing he initially had in mind and just guides the head of his cock to sop up the spit on your pussy before pushing in to the hilt in one thrust.

The blissed out sigh that you let out set him on fire.

Gone is the idea of long, languid strokes to stoke the fire in your belly. Instead he goes with a punishing pace that has high pitched cries slipping from your mouth.

His hands find the thickness of your ass to keep you in place, his hips doing all the work of rearranging your guts. In this angle and position, he can see how the head of his cock bulges in your abdomen slightly. It if was possible, he would have gotten harder.

Having already been so sensitive from hardly being able to come down from your first orgasm, Mingyu’s actions had you reeling into your second one in no time.

“My princess deserves to come already,” Mingyu says, slightly breathless, leaning his forehead on yours “Dad wants this pussy to never let him go.”

You nod in agreement, “It's yours forever. I love you.”

It almost seems pathetic for him to cum at those words, but it's a spectacular orgasm as he pulls out until only the head of his cock is inside you before he slams his hips flush to yours and letting himself flood your pussy with his cum.

You’re delirious as he keeps you steady, pulling out so slowly to make sure you keep every single drop of him inside of you.

“Keep it in until you get home,” He says, “I want to slip right in the second you get through the door and still feel me inside you.”

You press your lips to his once, twice, and a third one for good measure before nodding excitedly.

“It’s your gift to me. I won’t let a single drop go to waste.”

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 GUYS I JUST READ THE CUTEST FAN ACCT FROM TODAY'S MUBANK WTFFFF

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 There's a special guest at today's live performance!! After the Midas Touch recording there was a really loud and DEEP cheeer coming from backstage. The members were all looking to see who it was ijbol!!

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 Ahreum was so happy when she figured out who it was that after bowing and greeting fans she left the stage but her mic was still on!!

huhu our baby was probably so happy and giggly as she always is! the op of the fan acct thinks its Mingyu!!

thank you Mingyu for loving and taking care of our precious Ahreum! 🥹🫧🩷

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 CONFIRMED WTFFFFF 😭😭😭 Mingyu was seen leaving Music Bank today!!

SIR U R A FOOTBALLER U HAVE NO REASON TO BE AT MUSIC BANK IF NOT FOR UR IDOL GF!!

#frizzy fiction #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #au: man of the match

481 notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 1 month

Text

nightmares

summary: some chars I think would take care of a reader who has nightmares type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, vil, lilia, silver, malleus additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, this is self indulgent lol, platonic or romantic, not proofread, maybe a little ooc for a few ones

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

he initially assumes you're just staying up to slack off

you are friends with Ace and Deuce, after all

it takes a good scolding from him before you sheepishly admit that you've been having nightmares and thus losing sleep

now, Riddle comes from a family of doctors. he's no psychiatrist, but surely he can find a way to help you sleep despite it, right?

he tries everything- chamomile tea, weighted blankets, he even turned a blind eye when Ace and Deuce "borrow" a sleeping potion from the lab

nothing works

of course, this drives him mad. it seems like such a simple problem, and yet your body resists everything

your grades are suffering, and even worse, you seem like a walking corpse

he takes it upon himself to find a solution no matter what

and, of course, you have nothing to lose, so you indulge him

nothing medical or magical helps

eventually, he picks up a big psychology book and gets to work on the last thing he can think of

suddenly you're having tea and "talk time" with him twice a week at 4 PM sharp

turns out he kinda likes playing therapist

and if you're late to an appointment, it's off with your head

now you're starting to regret being his guinea pig, as thankful as you are

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

you can't what?

sleep?

you can't sleep?

he laughs right to your face, much to your annoyance

who can't sleep? it's easy!

you begrudgingly explain your nightmare problem and he finally shuts up (for once)

after a long silence, he grunts something about learning from the master

big surprise, all of his "master lessons" just mean he gets to use you as a body pillow while you watch

very helpful.

eventually, as much as you hate to admit it, it starts to help

having something soft and warm protectively wrapped around you is as comfortable as it gets

you start managing to sleep through the day undisturbed

then nights

Leona boasts to everyone about fixing their beloved prefect's problem, but even after you're well rested, he's still dragging you back to his favorite nap spots

turns out he doesn't mind the company so much, either

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

"those eyebags are just dreadful, prefect,"

always perceptive and eternally critical

(AKA he's worried)

he knows right off the bat that something's up, but he doesn't press for answers until you come to him yourself

as tempted as he is to step in, he doesn't want to pressure you to share something you don't want to

he accepts your pleas for help (he's worried) simply because he doesn't want your performance to suffer (he's soooo worried)

he starts out through traditional means- teas, oils, setting your routine to perfection- and eventually starts brewing potions for you

only one per week, he doesn't want you to become reliant

and the side effects can be... a little disruptive

one morning you spontaneously collapse in his arms on the way to your first class

he has to drag you back to Ramshackle to rest, despite your insistence

eventually, he eases you into talking about the dreams

he's there to comfort you about them, someone to lean on (though just for you)

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫

I mean... it's Silver

poor guy probably stumbled into one of your terrifying nightmares by accident

after that he started trying to subtly guide your dreams back to normal

when he gets to, of course

you're not even aware of it in your waking life, and he has no intentions of making his good deed known

it does give him the tiniest sense of accomplishment, though

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚

similarly to Silver, he's got a thing with sleep

his beloved prefect isn't sleeping well because of nightmares? he wants to help!

(please let him help)

he definitely won't let you refuse out of humility or embarrassment

he'll get you to rest and make sure all of your dreams are pleasant at no cost!

(AKA at the low, low cost of getting to see you so cute in your sleep. you're like a cat to him)

he will never not be fascinated by you

he's so pleased about being your unconscious protector; it makes him feel so wanted

his cute little child of man!

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

Lilia is no stranger to bad dreams

he's lived a long time; he's seen some things

every once in a while he, too, wakes up covered in sweat and tears

he can't help but feel a sense of longing when you describe your situation

you poor little thing!

right away he offers to keep watch over you, as if guarding you from an unseen enemy force

he's up most of the time, anyway

watching you is no problem!

you think that sounds reasonable enough

by night two you wake up in the early morning with his arms around your waist and his face buried in the crook of your neck

little bastard is definitely stealing your body heat

you don't say anything, though- you haven't had a nightmare since

(and neither has he)

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #silver x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

733 notes · View notes

crypticminx · 5 months

Text

More girl dad! Felix bc I have baby fever like soooo baddd ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

The day called for perfect weather.

Clear blue sunny skies without a single cloud gracing its presence. The air was inviting and utterly warm, but not to the point where humidity only made those outside drenched in sweat.

It was on this day that Felix found himself spending the entirety of his usual packed days at home—a rare occasion for the profound business man.

He was never the type of man to let his work come first and kept himself disciplined in a sense that he found balance and separation in terms of a busy work life and home life. Thus, making him feel exceptionally grateful for the fact that he could finally take a well deserved day off.

“How does this look, princess?” Felix turned to the little girl sitting beside him, her white babydoll dress already painted with grass and a tiny bit of gravel—something her mother was not going to be pleased with.

“Very good daddy!” She joyfully cheered, clapping her delicate hands to prove a point in congratulating her father.

Felix, who tried his hardest not to wipe his forehead with his soil stained hands, gradually passed the pink gardening shovel to his daughter. Completing the first step of digging a hole wide enough for the rootballs that would later on stem into stunning roses just outside the castles main entrance.

Gardening.

The gardens in saltburn were more emaculate than any garden you could see displayed in a catalog waiting to be purchased in the shops. From vibrant greens of trees older than any of the residents and heavenly grown flowers that looked like they belonged above, it was certainly something miles away from what most had ever witnessed.

A gardeners wildest fantasy painted into reality.

“Did you want to ask mummy to make the bone meal for the soil?” Felix politely asked his daughter, noticing her adorable cherubic face turn almost smitten. He knew she was hiding something from that devious expression and it made want to do nothing more than to scoop her up in a big hug.

“I’ve already made it daddy!” She giggled, pulling the mix that rested in a glass jar from behind her. “And I did it without mummy’s help.”

“My smart girl,” Felix wiped his dirty hand with a washcloth they brought outside before ruffling his fingers in her soft brown curls. She scrunched her button nose as a response, her eyes twinkling with adoration.

“Now, baby, why don’t you go get the roses and then we can start preparing them?”

She nodded her head, loose strands of hair swaying in motion. She was quick in dusting off any remaining dirt that laid on her dress before running off to grab the remaining materials they needed.

Felix’s eyes never left her tiny body as she hastily ran off into the distance as if her little life depended on it. He couldn’t restrain himself from chuckling at the cute scene unfolding before him.

It was times like these that he cherished the most with all of his heart.

#felix catton x you #saltburn #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #jacob elordi #girl dad! felix catton #dad! felix catton #girl dad!felix catton #dad!felix catton

712 notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 3 months

Text

Soooo a while ago I introduced a “rabid reader.” A reader character with a (non-sexual) body count and a nasty temper.

Anyway, I started thinking about her - and the discord does what it does - and realized that Pathetic Stalker Konig would be a great pairing for her.

So, CW for light stalking, violence, and slightly mean reader

You have a stalker.

He’s… not a very good one.

For one, you know he’s there. Have known since pretty much the beginning. He’s a big fucking Austrian that covers himself head to toe. Not even in subtle colors, but in primarily black. Maybe at night he’d stand a chance, but he follows you in broad daylight too. So, there’s that.

Then there’s the fact that you’re not really bothered by him. What’s there to be bothered by? He keeps his distance, doesn’t interfere with your life. Even when he finally does work up the courage to enter your home, he puts things back where he found them. So, again, not a big deal.

You keep waiting for the escalation. For gifts or letters or some obvious sign of his presence that even the most oblivious person couldn’t ignore. But none comes. Partially, you figure, because you’ve shown no interest in anyone. You have friends, yes, but those are so obviously platonic that even your stalker doesn’t seem jealous. And the few times someone else has made a pass at you, a quick and merciless shutdown follows. Your lack of romantic intentions for anyone seems to be coming him semi-level.

You wonder if this is how religious people feel, that vague sense of being watched. Though you don’t think your stalker is judging you. Be a hell of a thing if he did.

Then one day, things change.

You have this new coworker, Brandon.

Your other coworkers already seem to like him. They say he’s funny and charming and handsome, that he’s such a great fit for the team. You have no particular opinion because most people just aren’t interesting to you, and Brandon is Most People incarnate.

But Brandon seems to have an interest in you. Which, really, is such a poor choice.

He keeps ending up in the break room at the same time as you. Or passing by your desk for a quick question, only to try to lengthen the conversation with the casual chat. Makes a point of saying hello to you in the mornings and walking down with you in the afternoon.

You’re not annoyed yet, not really. It’s a change in your routine, but you’ve been told those are good, so fine. He’s about as bearable as anyone else (besides the rare few you call friend) so you don’t think anything of it. Even when your coworker giggles that he was asking after your romantic life, you tolerate him.

A few months later is the annual office party, a celebration of… something. It seems different every time. Record profits, company anniversary, CEO’s birthday… it doesn’t matter, really. Free food, socialization. It’s something to do.

You go, of course. As ambivalent as you are towards the majority of your coworkers, they do seem to quite like you, and insist that you come.

So you go. You plaster on that mild, practiced smile while they chat and joke, contributing readily when prompted. At the end of the meal, you’re wheedled into going out for more casual celebration. Again, you agree.

Brandon comes along.

And somewhere, throughout the night, Brandon thinks it’s okay to start touching you. An accidental brush here and there is fine, unavoidable really. You’re not opposed to touch as a rule.

But then the occasional bumps and grazes become more frequent, consistent. Purposeful. A hand on your arm, then your shoulder, then your back. When you step away, he somehow ends up right back by your side. So you resort to telling him not to touch you so casually. He scoffs, already past a healthy buzz, and dismisses you as being “uptight” because you’re still treating it as a “work thing.” That you just need some more drinks in you and everything will be fine.

You can feel it bubbling up in you, that inky rage. Maybe something flickers across your face because your coworkers are quick to divert his attention. Smart.

But twenty minutes later you’ve had your fill of socializing. The bar is too loud, people are getting too drunk, and you don’t like the looks you’re getting from more than just Brandon.

You say your goodbyes while he’s in the restroom and leave.

You’ve only just made it to your car when you hear quick footsteps, turn just in time for Brandon to catch up. It’s all just noise to you now, his tense laughter that you left at the worst time, that you’re mean for not waiting. That he wants to walk you to your car like always.

He tries to curl an arm around your waist. It takes restraint you don’t usually employ not to break it. To just step away and repeat (fuck you hate repeating yourself) that you don’t want to be touched.

And then he makes the fatal mistake of just not fucking listening. Of insisting. Of doing what he wants anyway.

So you break his hand. And while he’s still screaming in pain, you notice the shadowy flicker of your stalker ducking out of view.

It’ll stay your secret, you figure, and go home. Expect that to be the end of it.

Until you hear glass break when you’re just about to go to bed. You step out of your room, shoes on and knife in hand, to a fuck-off sized Austrian strangling Brandon. Oh, and stabbing him with a large piece of the lamp someone seems to have broken.

There’s water all over the floor because it started raining an hour ago. It’s mixing with the blood, diluting it pink on your floor. You retrieve a towel from the kitchen to mop it up before it reaches the rug.

All at once, things go quiet. Your stalker is kneeling over a still, dead-eyed Brandon, breathing hard. But his eyes keep flicking to you and then away, shoulders slumped and head ducked.

“You’ve made a mess. Clean up.”

Your stalker jumps into action. Seems to already know where all the housekeeping supplies are. In the meantime, you go digging through your closet for clothes. Can’t find any, so you settle for getting the washer and dryer ready. Order yourself a new lamp online.

By the time you’re done, the body is gone, the floors are clean and dry, and your stalker is fidgeting in the living room.

“Strip.”

He startles. Stares. You arch your eyebrows. Wait him out. But then he does as he’s told. Peeling off cold, wet layers with mechanical precision, until he’s got a damp pile at his bare feet. You give his mask an unimpressed look. That comes off too with an audible gulp.

You don’t really get attractiveness, as a physical quality. You understand proportions and features, and recognize that this man has some pleasing, if atypical, ones. Even with the scar.

“Good.” He shivers. “Now shower.”

He nods, ducks past you to the bathroom - again without having to be told where to find it. You gather up the clothes and toss them in the machine with a little extra detergent.

Walk into the bathroom and ignore the way he tries to cover himself, flushing tomato red from head to toe.

“Your name.”

“Konig.”

You narrow your eyes, but don’t press.

“Are you military?”

He’s built like it. Thick with useful strength, not aesthetic muscle. And he’s scarred all over. Some new, some old, all earned through violence and suffering.

“Military contractor,” he says. Then, quieter, “please don’t stare.”

Your eyes snap up to his. He can’t even hold it for longer than a second before dropping his gaze. You cross your arms.

“You’ve been watching me for 7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days. Put your fucking hands down.”

He twitches, but drops his hands to his sides. His cock - and it is, you acknowledge, very impressive - is filling out slowly but steadily. You consider it for a moment while he fidgets beneath the steaming spray.

“If you fuck me, will you be satisfied?” you ask.

Like touching, you’re not against fucking by default. It’s just one of those things you don’t think about often because you’re not especially interesting in most cases.

This - Konig - is not most cases.

But konig’s eyes dart up guiltily before he shakes his head. Surprised, you tilt your head.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

He nods so hard the back of his skull bumps into the shower head.

You hum. Stand there and watch him while he awkwardly shuffles until the washer buzzes.

“Finish showering, get your clothes from the dryer, then sleep on the couch,” you say. He swallows again and nods. “You can get blankets if you’re cold. Be here in the morning.”

With that, you turn to switch his clothes over. Then head off to bed, wondering if you’ll see him come sunrise.

Masterlist

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #konig #konig cod #konig x reader #rabid reader #pathetic stalker konig

906 notes · View notes

norrisleclercf1 · 5 months

Note

Aw your last blurb has me in a fluffy mood soooo

How about mafia lando where it’s arranged marriage at it’s starting stages. You care for him but don’t want to show it yet because you haven’t gotten to that stage yet. One day when he comes home your moving around in your sleep having a nightmare about him. And when he wakes you, you cling to him and he comforts you 🫶🏼🫶🏼

A/N: Any reason to write mafia Lando is a pretty damn good excuse for me

"Here," You whisper handing him his tie as Lando smiles at the end of the bed and starts to tie it. "I'll be gone till late again," Lando adds finishing it off. You nod, moving off the bed and straightening it.

Lando looks down at you and smiles, reaching up to touch you but you move before he can unaware of it. Lando drops his hand and smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What are you doing for the day?"

Lando wasn't like others, he wanted you to have your own life. Granted, he wants you to be safe but still, to live. This relationship started off different, an arranged marriage for the Norris Mafia to forgive your families debt.

But, he wanted you to be safe, cared for, and do whatever you want while keeping that mutual respect for one another. "Um, probably try out new recipes, read, hang around." Humming at your answer he goes to step up and hug you from behind but you head to the bathroom grabbing some of his hair gel.

There was an important meeting and you knew he didn't like his curls bouncing around. "Come here," You called and Lando smiles, a little beat in his step. There was nothing he loved more than your hands moving through his hair.

He didn't like it when others touched his hair, but something about you touching him had him melting into your touch like a kitten. Sitting on the toilet as you take a little bit of gel and start to push back his curls.

Lando tries so hard to resist the urge to place his hands on your hip and place his face on your stomach and enjoy this small little ritual you have everyday. "There will be food in the oven, still warm for you when you get back." Lando is pulled out of his trance by your words and smiles.

"I know," He stands, and yet again denies the pull to kiss you as he moves away from you. "See you tonight."

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

Coming into the house, he smiles at the lights lining the hallway. You always left the lights on for him, so he wouldn't be coming home in the dark. Just like you said it would, dinner is in the oven and still warm.

Taking it out, he grabs a fork ready to start eating when he hears something break in the bedroom. Freezing for a second his body moves on its own as he races towards the room. Pushing the door open he stops seeing it was just a water glass that had fallen over.

"Fuck, scared me." He whispers, going to pick it up but stops when you make a noise. "Mh, no." You whimper flailing your arm. Lando's head snaps up quickly as he sees you start to twist and turn, face drawn tight. Getting closer he sees the tear slip down your face.

"Please, kill me. Not him." You gasp. Lando doesnt think twice and climbs onto the bed and moves his arms around you. "Y/n, dove? I've got you." He whispers kissing your hairline as he pulls you closer. Your moving around stops, and he feels your muscles relax in his hold.

Closing his eyes, he hums and enjoys the weight of of you in his arms. He didn't care about pretending anymore, he wanted you.

906 notes · View notes

mystellenia · 3 months

Text

giving ellie a hoodie full of kisses ୨ৎ

summary: you paint a hoodie with kisses for ellie, and the gesture flusters her.

content: nothing much, just ellie being shy

notes: answer to this req!! i'm trying a new format of posts. sometimes i see people do not quite hcs but also not quite a normal, paragraph-formatted fic. its this in between of bullet points????? idk lemme know if yall like it

(wc 0.6 k)

after spending an hour on painting your lips and pressing them to the cloth of the hoodie you'd gotten for ellie, you sat back and examined your work

you had to admit: the hoodie looked beautiful. but! you did not!!!! your lips were stained red from the paint, your back hurt from hunching over to kiss the hoodie, and you'd probably ingested about an ounce of red40!!! (i know red 40 is in food but let me be silly)

after washing the paint that had gotten on your skin off in the sink, you ironed the sweatshirt to seal the paint in (don't ask me how that works bc idk i just saw it on tiktok like 10 mins ago)

and now we wait for ellie to come home!!

when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them. one day she's gonna take a step and they're gonna turn into a cloud of dust i swear

anyway you're sitting on the couch with your phone in your lap, the painted sweatshirt folded into a square with the kisses hidden inside. she walks towards you and gives you a lil kissy kiss on the forehead like hiiii

you get all smiley because you're excited for her to see the sweatshirt and she gets all suspish.... like what's so funny....

sooooooo.... you tell her you made her something and unfold the hoodie and hold it up to your body so she can see the full thing. and she would soooo get all beet red, like, "...you made this for me?"

and you're like "yes of course do you like it queen" then she gets over the like flusteredness (????(actually i revoke my ???? bc i just made that a word)) and gets so happi like yayyy!!!!

then she looks all confused at your lips and is like "is that why your lips look so severely chapped and red?"

and you get mad so you take away kiss privileges so she does the only reasonable thing which is putting you in a headlock to force kiss you

would definitely immediately put it on and go look in the mirror at her with it on. she'll start geeking and thank you and all that jazz

she would wear that shit 24/7. sleeping working showering shitting ANYWHERE best believe she has that hoodie on. and you tell her its been like 2 weeks of her wearing it nonstop so she needs to wash it but she refuses bc she doesn't want the kisses to start fading. u wash it anyway bc its dirty and she cold shoulders you for about 30 mins before she sees some dumb reel she just has to show you (me fr).

i feel like she's a hot sleeper--like she gets too hot at night to wear the hoodie but she still wants it so she'll just hold it as a baby blanket of sorts and Whatnot.

wait very unrelated but does anyone have a baby blanket that they've had for so long its like basically just threads thats so funny

but overall she loves it. she likes to kiss the kiss prints you made on the sweatshirt bc it's "like kissing you."

there was one time she couldn't find it for like 2 days (because you'd washed it since she never does) and she tried to act all nonchalant and unaffected like she wasn't about to start tweaking and like twitching

then you gave it to her all calm because it was literally just in the wash and she was like "what😨😨😨 where did you find it😨😨😨" and you just tell her it was in the wash and shes like "oh that makes sense"

pls im so sorry. before i say anything i would like to formally apologize to the anon who submitted the ask for this bc this is so shit. you ask me for a product and this is how i repay you!! shame on me. please dilly dally on over to my asks and ask me something else so i can actually, i don't know, do a good job!! this ask was cute tho u ate with that

@picklesarenice69

wow i very strongly dislike this format so much this is the first and last time i will be doing this!!! i’m only posting this bc its been like a week since i last posted and the citizens will soon revolt, which the city's defenses cannot afford!! we're about to run out of wheat like times are getting tough. maybe i should just try just headcanons 🤔

can you tell i was fighting demons to not make this my normal vocab and format. like just look at this sentence and how it progresses: "when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them." the way that sentence progresses is just the silly demons taking over and also my coping mechanism for grimacing at how much i didnt mesh with this format

like i just couldnt take myself seriously. "yes of course do you like it queen" HELLO??? WHY DID I TYPE THAT but i will not be fixing and/or deleting it bc its making me giggle

dont get me wrong some of you ladies chew it up but i am made for unreasonably long and time consuming fics!!! i’m getting heated too bc not only is this so short and quick to do but it also takes less focus and brain power and ofc i had to make things hard for myself and hate it!!! i’m soooooooooooo silly

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

---

edit: wait i would like to clarify that i just hate this because perhaps i’m not used to it. if you guys like this maybe i'll do more bc i follow the clout always 💯

641 notes · View notes

solbaby7 · 3 months

Note

Az is so🤤🤤 toxic men in real life repulsive me but Az does it soooo well.

Can you do a slutatious reader meets possessive Az?

Like he refuses to make it official so she continues about her life and he stay hearing rumors about her activities. He doesn’t want to be another fuck buddy but he’s also holding back from her and that pisses her off and encourages her to continue w her endeavors.

I’m talking screaming fighting throwing shit toxic🤭

i love your work mamita, I’ll read ur fics all day😩🤧

Maneater

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: toxic relationships, possessive!az, promiscuous girl, swearing, sexual themes, lemme just say thank god for this request, probably typos

—

“You’re not wearing that.”

“And who’s going to stop me?” The retort comes easily, all too familiar with this dance. You continue as if he’s not there, staring at the material that molds to your curves like second skin. The entire back is out, the sultry swoop accentuating the fullness of your ass even if the front was fairly tame. Curled hair is flicked over your shoulder, lashes flirty and lips glossy as you reach for your clutch.

A shadow beats you to it, sliding the clutch just out of your reach and a slightly agitated smile quirks at the corner of your mouth as you turn to face him. “I mean it. If that’s what you’re wearing, then you aren’t going.”

A brow raises, eyes taking in the perfect structure of Azriel’s face, the strong neckline and tattoos that crept up the left side. Rippling muscles strain against the black top; a pleasant contrast from his usual leathers and you nearly forget his audacity when appreciating his physique. “You must have the wrong room, Az.” You can’t help yourself but to touch, two manicured fingers dragging down the middle of his abdomen. Nails catch on the belt holding his breeches in place and the teasing tug has his pupils dilating. “Possibly confused me with one of those simpering females with damsel in distress tendencies? The ones who actually allow the tone you’re taking with me right now. ”

“I know exactly whose room I’m in,” Unashamed possessiveness radiates from every word and the step he takes to close the distance has an annoying effect on your body. “Just like I know exactly who won’t be leaving it if you don’t walk back over to that closet and change.”

“I have no reason to listen to you,” Azriel refused to admit it out loud, but he secretly loved this part—the pushback. The flirtatious flutter of your lashes and the seductive scent lacing every inch of glistening skin. “You have no claim over me. I’m a free female,” You know exactly what you’re doing; goading him with the same implications of the relationship that you and Azriel had been dancing around for the better part of a decade. It could’ve been different, could’ve spent more time making love rather than hate fucking against any sturdy surface after the shadowsingers jealousy had gotten the best of him after hearing yet another rumor about your latest conquest. “Free to do whom and whatever I please.”

He’s too good at feigning restraint when he truly was grappling for purchase; falling victim to such feminine curves and unwavering confidence. You peered up at him without fear, heart rate steady in his presence and he just barely catches the slightest hitch of your breath when Azriel’s hand wander up the bodice of the dress. Familiar fingers brush over the thick of your thighs, up the soft curve of your belly, taking special time over supple breasts and peaked nipples. Foolishly, you lean into the touch, goosebumps beginning to dot at your spine when the fabric rips in two. “It’s adorable that you believe that.” He doesn’t acknowledge your surprised expression, hands hovering over the ruined material as if it would magically sew back together. “Don’t ever make me repeat myself again.”

“You just—“

“I will see you there—in something much more appropriate, I’m sure.”

Azriel’s gone before you can respond, a humorless laugh passing glossy lips as you shuck off the remnants of your dress. High heels stomp against hardwood floors as you make your way to the closet, ripping through shades of deep navy’s and obsidian until your sights set on a sexy little number saved for special occasions.

A sinister smirk forms as you slip into it, eyes almost sparkling as you regard yourself in the full length mirror.

The halter neckline crosses at the chest, cupping cleavage with ease as the intricate golden bustier cinches at your sides, creating the illusion of wider hips and ensures nothing less than an elegant posture when you stride inside. Soft silks and chiffon kisses at the length of your legs, grazing over painted toes in painfully high heels but it pulls the attention you were searching for. Necks craning and hungry eyes eat up every dip and curve of your figure, mouths salivating at the liquid gold that pushes up the weight of your breasts. “You’re late,” Rhysand voice murmurs in your mind, utter boredom creeping into his every feature.

Your eyes slide to Azriel when you answer, anticipation buzzing beneath the surface of your body. “Wardrobe malfunction.”

To anyone else, the shadowsinger would appear to be the embodiment of stoicism.

But you knew that hard line of his shoulders, the barely restrained tick of his jaw, the slight flexing of his fingers around the thick arms crossed over his chest. The firelight crackles around him, golden light casting perfect shadows that nearly blend seamlessly to the ones that sang to him. With each step closer to the dias, those shadows grow more agitated, wiggling restlessly at Azriel’s feet, stretching up the length of his back to whisper in his ear.

You play coy too well, nodding respectfully to the High Lord and Lady before taking your place but those shadows shove you in closer. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from Azriel’s towering form, the wings held high behind him subconsciously tucking you out of view. “Appropriate enough for you?”

“You are the most stubborn female I have ever met in my entire life.”

“I wouldn’t have to be if you’d just admit it.”

He pretends not to care, masking desperate glances with hardened side eyes. The grip on his crossed arms gets tighter, barely refraining from the urge to drag you away from all the eyes greedily eating up your form as if it were a six-course meal with desserts on the side. “Admit what?”

“That you want me.”

That you love me the same way I love you.

That you don’t want it to just be a game anymore either.

Azriel doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t even look your way but the sneer that curls at the edge of his perfect mouth was enough to have your confidence faltering. “I have better things to do with my time than chase after some harlot.”

Your brows snap up, nearly blending in with the seam of your hairline. He regrets every word when the teasing spark fades from your eye. Taking a sizable step away from him, your face goes hard like steel, nose scrunching with barely concealed humiliation and your teeth bare like a wild animal when Azriel reaches out to touch. “Don’t,” Angry tears make your eyes go glassy but not once does your voice waver. “Just stay the hell away from me.”

Rhys had already dismissed the others, waving a lazy hand and music fills the space. The strong smell of food permeating the air and you’re quick to blend into the gathering crowd, making a beeline for the elegant champagne pyramid tucked on the other side of the room.

Your hands shake when you grab the first glass, taking it back more like a shot than a classy sip of the flute but you just needed your hands to stop shaking—your heart to stop racing. One drink quickly turns to three and you’re well on your way to a fourth when a hand curls around your shoulder. “Fueling up for me?” The familiar drawl of Autumn’s first born heir reaches your ear, halting your display of gluttony.

This was why you were here—in Hewn City, prancing about the Court of Nightmares. Acting as a pretty faced guide the Night Court provided as light entertainment before Eris would be escorted off to the private meeting room two halls down. You’d amuse a few dances, allow him to talk your ear off and pretend you don’t notice his fingers inching down the curve of your spine. “There’s not enough alcohol in the world to prepare me for you, Vanserra.”

His brow raises, a sly smirk growing as the lights from the iron-wrought chandeliers casted their shadows against the burnt copper of his hair. Warm eyes trail down the length of your form, a single finger twitching when taking in intricate details of your gold bodice; the rich fabric that was so dark it almost seemed blue in certain light. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No, I’m just hot and talking.”

Eris is just as bold as you remember, laughing softly under your breath at his proximity when you’ve turned around for another glass but a quick hand has swiped it from your grasp before a single drop can coat your tongue. “You’re testy tonight.” You can feel the cool caress of Az’s shadows curling around your ankle, a silent claim that has your teeth gritting against each other.

For once, you amuse the Autumn heir and his playful fire, dancing into the thick of his flame when you allow him to finish your drink and guide you to the dance floor with the others. “I double booked,” You lie easily, following his lead effortlessly as if you didn’t feel that cool wisp of a shadow steadily clamping tighter against your ankle. Low chatter blocks out the ability for others to eavesdrop but you can feel those golden eyes burning holes into the side of your face—to the bare strip of skin at your hip where Eris’ hand rested for the entire duration of the dance. “Can’t help the attitude that lingers knowing that I have to spend my night prattling about with you when I could’ve been indulging in multiple orgasms.”

A laugh that’s smooth like whiskey escapes Eris, a hint of a dimple forming on his left cheek and you hate that you notice the perfect lines of his teeth; his bottom lip that was fuller than the top, the slight bump on the bridge of his nose indicating it’d definitely been broken at least once in his life. “There’s ample time before my meeting if you’d like to have your cake and eat it too.”

“Maybe I’d agree,” You make a show out of examining him, subtly inhaling the spice of his cologne. Handsome but not Azriel. “If the ‘cake’ was a different flavor.”

Eris doesn’t falter for a second, even with the entirety of your Inner Circle’s attention fixed on him and the hands he had on your body. The deep baritone of his voice rumbles against your chest, nipples pebbling at the sensation. “Close your eyes then,” Words whisper at the lobe of your ear and the glittering jewel poked through it. “You can pretend I’m whoever you want with my tongue between your thighs.”

A witty remark crawls to the tip of your tongue, readying itself to leap off when that ghost chain around your leg pulls taut. There’s only enough time for your eyes to widen before you’re tugged away from Eris like a dog on a leash. It leads you out of the room and into the hall, refusing to loosen even a touch when you stubbornly resist but there’s no point when you’re cloaked in shadows. You barely notice the scenery change before you’re back at home and tossed over a shoulder. “You stupid, brutish, ape of a male!” Your shouts echo through the empty halls, bouncing off closed doors as Azriel strides through the foyer like he was on a mission. “Put me down right now!” Every word is coupled with the palms of your hands slapping at his thighs and digging into the back of his knees. One hand cranes back to dig into the thick of his hair and tug—hard.

Azriel’s hand is harder though, pure heat burning against the skin of your ass when it connects with a deafening clap. “Shut up.”

Your jostled back into place, cheeks warm and hands frozen where they’re bunched in the fine material of his dress shirt. “Az—“

His hand comes down once more and this time you yelp, teeth biting into the fat of your bottom lip as he clears the stairs and makes a sharp left. “I told you to shut up.”

Every bone in your body screams for you to comply, primal instincts igniting deep within advising you take the route of self-preservation but your pride overrides better judgement. “And I told you, I’m a free female. Let me go, right now!” You squirm once more, legs kicking and arms clawing for release when you’re roughly thrown off his shoulder and shoved into the wall in a motion so fluid it takes the air from your lungs.

Fuck your pride for letting her mouth write checks your ass couldn’t cash.

You’d never seen such darkness in such a vast sea of gold, the whole pupil of Azriel’s eyes blown out like a feral animal salivating at the mouth. “Do you feel like a free female right now?” He already knows the answer judging by the pleased smirk beginning to creep in the corner of his mouth at the sight of his shadows holding your hands in place.

You swallow thickly, annoyingly affected by his closeness and the hard bulge that throbs at your belly when he curls a hand around your neck, nose brushing your own. “I certainly don’t feel like I belong to you.”

“I can fix that.” It’s a promise. One you silently scold yourself for praying that it’s a promise he makes good on.

The Mother has favorites and tonight you must be one of them.

The kiss Azriel initiates is nothing short of brutal; the drag of his tongue across the seam of your lips his only kindness before gaining access and completely dominating from the inside out. Every touch is claiming; a strong hand calloused from centuries of skilled swordplay is generous when easing off the expensive gold bodice before the delicate fabric beneath is torn to shreds. Pretty strips of dark material spills to the floor, left for the house to clean as your thighs are gripped and your weight is hoisted up, legs cradling the muscular taper of Azriel’s waist.

He’s sucking marks into your neck, back pressed against the wall as his teeth graze at the sensitive skin there. Breasts spill from the confines of your bra, straps eased down your shoulders to make more room for his mouth to lay claim to. Azriel pinches at your nipples, eating up every sound like it’s offered on a platter. “Those noises sound like you belong to me.” Every nerve burns where he touches, marring your flesh and branding his mark as arousal collects in your underthings.

“Azriel,” You pant, trying to clear the fog of your brain but he’s all consuming; refusing to allow you air if it’s not the same one he breathes.

The flimsy underwear is pushed aside, familiar fingers collecting the slick gathering between your legs and a cruel smile grows on his face. “It certainly feels like you belong to me.” A thumb pressed firmly on the stiff bud of your clit, rubbing slow circles that has your toes curling. A thump sounds from where your head falls back to the ball, exposing the line of your neck and the dark purple bruises smattered along it. Your eyes close for a second, breath labored and mouth salivating from the promise of more but all that changes when his hands bunch up the elegant curl of your hair. He wraps it around like a leash, forcing you to look him in the eye and the rasp of his voice is devastating. “So why the fuck can’t you get it through your pretty head, huh?”

It’s a rhetorical question, that much you gather when he moulds his mouth to yours before you can even begin to muster up an answer. You’re boneless in his grasp, allowing him to take you to his room and share his sheets. The bedside table screeches when Azriel’s boot kicks at it, knocking over lamps and light bulbs shatter on the hardwood. He doesn’t even flinch, glass crunching under the soles of his shoes that he kicks off as he eases you down. “Az,” Insecurity threatens to rear her ugly head and ruin the moment, trying to push forth his hurtful words and the years of dancing around this feeling but Azriel’s already there to push that away. “Are you sure you even want to?”

“You belong to me,” He says and it’s final. Offering up the keys to the locked box filled with everything you’d dreamed about when you closed your eyes and wished on falling stars every year. Off goes his shirt and shortly his pants follow, dragging his underwear along with it and you can’t fight the moan when all of that bare skin is exposed and hovering above you. “Say it,” He urges, the hard length of him slotting between spread legs, grinding against warm need until you’re keening soft pleas into his chest, heels digging into his back.

The intrusion makes you gasp, hands greedy and mouth glued to his while he fucked into you like he always did. It’s a demanding pace; forcing you to take all of him while he watched you lose all your composure—all that beautiful fight that drew him to you in the first place. Az doesn’t stop, spurred on by strangled moans and choked words garbled together begging for more of him; harder, faster, deeper. Your clenching around him when the words stutter out of you in a whisper. “I belong to you.”

678 notes · View notes

moonrisecoeur · 7 months

Note

Ur the best sub Leon writer soooo… idk if you seen these but ppl treat las plagas parasite as sex pollen 😭 and I’m so here for it. Concept : re4 leon infected by the parasite OK but he starts out very agressive but ofc he’s a sub so he does whatever reader wants in order to yk… achieve the goal of the parasite (breeding 😔 who said that? Not me) And pls make the reader mean, I love mean femdoms sm, they are chefs kiss. If you need more clarification post it I’ll send another one idk but I’m just seeing what YOU come up with. LOVE UR WRITING btw I love how it’s pretty in character tbh cuz I read ur bully Leon one and I was like “yeah fr like he’s too caring to be a bully 💀”

OMG WAIT MY DUMBASS FORGOT TO ADD: you said smth so mean to him that he came too early. He was so sorry for coming early and the mess he made in you But then he continued to keep going trying to pump more- OK SORRY

the BEST?? idk about that but i shall take ur compliment and deliver to you only my best work so thank u bestie i appreciate it sm !! ^-^

las plagas is crazy cuz like the black veins, the loss of control with your physical body, the pain it causes… that’s literally so hot. leon was so fuckable all of re4 but especially in the scenes where his body is being controlled that man is SCRUMPTIOUS

also just so you know. the veins on his dick are black as well ♡

no pronouns mentioned, afab parts mentioned, plaga leon has to be a top im sorry (technically in straight relationships men are always topping unless u count pegging BUT in this context i mean he’s a top more like ‘he’s a sub but he’ll fuck u stupid’ like that’s the vibe)

you spot his blonde hair from across the hall, running over to him excitedly. thank god you found him.

“leon!” you call out, grabbing the attention of the man in question, as you catch up to him. finally finding him in this nightmarish place after getting separated was the best thing possible, “holy crap, i’m so- i’m so glad you’re okay— woah, what… what happened to you?”

he takes a cautious step back, still seemingly holding a little bit of control over his body, “they said it was a gift in my…. my blood… don’t know what the fuck that was about..”

you take a step forward, reaching out your hand to touch his face, fingers tracing the black lines that were once veins invisible to the naked eye. but he stops you, his hand roughly grabbing your wrist, “don’t.”

“don’t… what?” you ask nervously, shoulders slumped.

“you need to… stay away from me,” he groans from pain, and you’re too worried to listen to his words, “stop, get away from me, you— i could hurt you! i don’t want to hurt you…”

but you don’t listen to him, betraying his wishes by shaking off his grip and reaching your hand out again. he can’t try to stop you this time. he moans, actually moans, when your fingertips touch his face, caressing him softly.

“really? it’s that good?” you ask with a small smirk on your face. leon thinks he could die.

“f-fuck…” he mumbles, finally coming closer to you. his hands wrap around your waist as he leans in for a kiss that you’re not ready for, and you both stumble backwards while you try to ground yourself.

he’s getting rough, aggressive, and you need to push back a little or else he’ll consume you entirely. not that you’d mind.

“leon, ease up,” you whisper, pushing him back slightly, and when a growl escapes his throat, you know he’s clearly not in any state to listen, “leon.”

he annoyedly makes eye contact with you, trying his best to listen to what you’re about to say. he is trying, and that’s the worst part. this is him at his most gentle, most restrained.

“you need to listen to me, okay? can you do that?” you ask softly, hand against his chest to keep him from diving too deep into you, and pressing a kiss to his lips. it’s softer. he moans into your mouth needily, but you don’t let him get rough. instead you sweetly get the taste of him. sure, it’s not a delicious taste, but he’s a delicious experience.

you enjoy the way he’s trying so intensely to control and contain himself, for your sake. he knows what you want from him is not his full fledged desires out in the open, completely unchecked.

when you pull away, he looks wrecked already, “please, you can’t do this to me, not if you’re just going to walk away and leave me desperate.”

part of you wants to reassure him. i’m not going to leave you. i would never abandon you when you need me most. but the other part just wants to ravage him, take all of him for yourself, leave nothing of him left but the perfection you’ve created. perfection in your eyes. maybe he’s not the only one infected with some kind of tainted desire.

instead, to accomplish both, you kiss him again, letting your own intensity and desire take over, potentially overpowering his. he whimpers, his shaky hands holding your hips for stability. he’s not being grossly possessive and rough like before. he’s softer now, pliable.

when you pull away, you whisper, “we need to get somewhere safe.”

“wha… what?”

“i need to take my time with you, and we’re not safe out in the open like this…” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to that sweet spot right below his ear. it’s so cute how truly weak leon is right now. sure, that’s always been his weakness, but it’s elevated multiple times over by this parasite in his blood. you have half the mind to thank that weird cult.

when you find a safe room, you’re immediately back on him, pushing him against the wall, enjoying the way he whimpers as you kiss him, his need for you multiplying by the minute.

“please, please, i need you, i need you so fucking bad, please, i need to take you, need to make you mine, need to—”

“shut up,” you groan, fingers roughly grabbing his jaw, pushing his head back and away from you, “you’re going to be good, or you won’t get what you want. i don’t care how badly you fucking need me, you’re going to be patient. you’re going to be nice and obedient or you’ll get nothing from me. and that little parasite inside of you is horrified at the idea that you won’t get to fuck my pretty pussy, hm?”

he looks pathetic, moaning like a whore at just some words, but it’s the way you say them, the way you say them, that kills him. he eventually calms himself down enough to nod with his eyes shut tightly, “i’ll do whatever you say. you know that.”

“lay down on the floor,” you command, almost growling back at him, and he opens his eyes in surprise.

“what?”

“you heard me. on the ground, beneath me, right now, leon,” your eyes narrow at him, enjoying the way he weakly sinks to his knees before sitting down completely and laying back.

“like this..?” he asks, confused. he doesn’t know what’s about to happen, and that excites him immensely.

you take off your belt with all your utility tools and your jeans along with it. then finally, your underwear. he looks up at you with wide, delicious eyes.

he asks so sweetly, even though he knows the answer, “are you… are you gonna make me..?”

“yeah, you are. i’m going to sit down on your pretty, pretty face and you’re going to enjoy every second of being beneath me, where you belong, servicing me, and making me cum.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of belonging beneath you, “yeah, fuck, okay—”

“—and you’re not going to fucking talk until i cum, got it?”

he nods, and once you sit down upon your throne, he gets right to work. he laps up the fluids of your cunt like a dog, working tirelessly, sucking on your clit and tongue fucking you. this is his place. he deserves nothing more than to be here with you, caving to your every desire even if all of his thoughts include breeding you and getting you pregnant with his babies. he’d do anything you asked if he could just have that.

he’d be at your service, at your mercy, until you chose to give him what he wanted.

but he makes you cum so fucking hard that it’s impossible to not give him what he wants, especially when rough hands grab onto your thighs as you’re cumming and he’s still giving you the head of your life through your orgasm. he grabs you just to stabilize you, but also to be possessive.

he can’t help how bad he’s gotten about jealousy and possessiveness with this parasite. he’s never been the jealous boyfriend, knowing you could hold your own and you’re loyal and stuff, but something about the way he looks at you now is different. it’s deep and primal. he looks at you like he needs to have you, and no one else can.

it’s insanely hot, but it’s also inconceivable how uncontrollable those urges are. leon has good self control, and you notice it in how he’s acting. again, this is him at his most restrained. he’s trying to keep himself from pouncing on you, taking everything he wants from you because he knows you don’t want that.

somewhere deep inside of him, he’s still himself, still that awkward and dorky guy that just wants to love you and give you everything you want. you wouldn’t want that.

when you roll off of him, laying down next to him to give yourself a moment to recover, you press a kiss to his shoulder, a sign that it’s an act, your harshness isn’t real. he returns the gesture by kissing the top of your head. a sign that he acknowledges your motives.

“please,” he whimpers suddenly, startling you out of your daze as his hand caresses your back softly, “i’ll let you control everything, you can do whatever you want with me, but fucking please, i’m so desperate to put my cock inside of your pussy, baby. i can’t think straight, and i’m trying so damn hard to control myself but i won’t be able to much longer…”

“yeah? you wanna put your cock inside of me? feel it throb inside the wetness and warmth of my cunt, fill me up with—”

he cuts you off with a loud moan, his hands grasping onto you and his eyes shutting tightly at the thought of such pleasure. he looks wrecked at the mere mention of cumming inside of you. you obviously have to capitalize on this fact.

“oh? so it’s the filling me up part, isn’t it? the ‘gift’ you have makes you really want to cum inside me, hm?” you say, smirking cruelly at him, watching his resolve crumble as he moans shamelessly, “do you want… breed me, leon?”

he gasps, breathing heavily. he’s incredibly wound up, and now you know the real reason he’s insatiable and uncontrollable, “f-fuck, i— it’s not that i want to, it’s that i need to… i need to fuck you and breed you so damn bad, i—”

you cover his mouth with the palm of your hand, enjoying the way he groan in pleasure when you straddle him. god, he’s not even inside of you, but he looks fucked out. he looks he’s about to burst already.

“god, you’re so fucking desperate,” you mumble to him, leaning in closer to whisper to him despite having him muzzled with your hand. not that he’d ever hurt you, he would never even imagine it, “you’re going to fuck me stupid, okay? you’re going to fuck me until my legs go numb and i can’t feel anything but you… and only when i tell you you can, you’ll breed me, fuck your cum even deeper into me and not let any of it escape. understood?”

he breathes shakily, not responding. obviously you forgot you have your hand over his mouth. when you take it off, he nervously says, “got it. i’ll… i’ll be good. i’ll make you feel so good.”

your voice is dark, cruel, full of malicious intent, “you fucking better, or i won’t let you cum. you’ll get to fuck me, sure, but i won’t ever give you the satisfying orgasm your body is desperately aching for. you won’t get to fill me up, and all you’ll have left to fuck for your little orgasm is your hand.”

his heart aches. the idea of disappointing you makes him feel a physical pit of nervousness in his stomach, the same ones he felt when he was more like himself. he just wants to feel like himself again.

“g-got it,” he whimpers. you get off of him, and he’s got you pinned immediately, gently resting you against the ground he was previously laying on. the image of you beneath him has him breathless. he feels like he’s worshipping a god with every move he makes.

he slides his cock into you, groaning at how easy it is, how wet you are. he bottoms out almost immediately, enjoying the way your body wraps around him in almost every sense. he silently adores you. he loves that you want him, crave him just like he craves you. that underneath all of your dominance, you’re his lover too.

fuck, he’s starting to feel possessive again. he beings to thrust into you, his body moving faster than either of you can handle, but you keep your cool better than he does.

“don’t let yourself start to think you’re in control,” you murmur, leaning up to press your lips to his shoulder, baring your teeth but not hard enough to draw blood. just enough to remind him of his place, “you belong to me. not the other way around, got it?” you growl into his ear.

he can’t even respond, too enraptured by your body and the feeling of your control over him leaving him a shuddering mess.

and you can’t even deny it. he’s putting in the work, thumb playing your with your clit just like how he knows you like, and clearly he’s getting the results he’s looking for. his body comes closer to the edge sooner than he’d like, but he tries to stave it off, for your sake.

still leaning into him, you whisper in your darkest voice, “maybe i should leave you like this, so you can stay this desperate… for me. i would try and cure you, but… not sure if i really care anymore.”

he shudders, voice giving out on him as he tries to plead with you. he cums without warning, obviously his body did it without the consent and go-ahead of his conscious mind. he already looks embarrassed at cumming without your permission. you don’t really have the mind to care right now, but you remember it for.. later.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck, leon, give it to me, give in to your cravings, your desires, your needs,” you moan in his ear, desperate for him, only him, and he’s yours, he’s all yours, it’s all he’s ever been and all he’ll ever be. he keep fucking you even after cumming, keeping you filled up, pushing it deeper, “make me yours.”

and he has no choice but to comply.

#sub leon kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #sub leon kennedy smut #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #sub!leon #re4 leon #re4r #re4 #re4 remake #re4r leon

591 notes · View notes

t-lostinworlds · 1 year

Text

Be(tter) In Reality With Me | Bucky Barnes

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

》 SUMMARY: Bucky needed to remind you how he would never ever betray you, especially when the him in your dreams was showing you otherwise.

》 WARNINGS: bad dreams/nightmares, pregnancy & baby stuff, mentions of: infidelity, miscarriage, anxiety, toxic past relationships; implied smut at the start (nothing graphic), pet names (doll, my love, sweetheart), overprotective!husband!bucky (he’s a hoverer), some hurt, so much comfort, very fluffy moments a.k.a. happy ending obvs.

》 WORD COUNT: 6.5k+

A/N: this is another unplanned one, like i really just started writing this a few days ago. well, i’ve been toying with the idea for a while but i just never got around to writing/thinking of the perfect premise for it. i coud’ve gone the crack route but you get angst instead. but anyway, this is barely proofread, idk how this turned out. and i know ‘husband fever’ isn't a thing but i honestly got it while writing this soooo hope you enjoy it too!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

The disappointment was sharp in your chest as you trudged towards the front door of your home, fingers curled around an unopened envelope that felt heavier than any normal piece of paper should.

Your husband was supposed to be there with you.

Bucky was supposed to meet you at the clinic so you could find out your baby's gender together. But he hadn't been answering any of your messages or calls since this morning. Better yet, he'd been avoiding you all week. There had been more voicemails than there were replies. It was worrying because you two had been fine, things were normal the week before and now it felt as though he was avoiding you at all cost.

Yet the disappointment was quickly replaced by dread when you opened the front door.

The heels were what you saw first, a pair that you were sure wasn't yours. Even if there was a slightest chance that they were, they had no business being down here and not in your closet. Being pregnant, you hadn't worn heels in months.

Next were the scattered clothes, both familiar and not, a feminine scent lingering in the air that had your stomach turning in knots. They were the most horrid pieces of bread crumbs, one that you knew was leading you towards something vile and agonizing.

Your heartbeat was ringing in your ears as you ascended the stairs, each thump growing harsher to marry with your step. Your fingers trembled on your baby bump, the fluttering inside growing restless like a blaring alarm. When you reached the landing, that was when you heard it.

An enthusiastic creaking of the bed, salacious moans and grunts sinisterly harmonizing, unashamedly loud as if they weren't doing something so evil. It was deafening that you couldn't even hear your own heart shatter into pieces.

You wanted to turn around and leave, telling yourself that seeing the treacherous act would do more harm than good. But you didn't have control of your own body. You were pulling at your own hand, wanting to drag yourself away but to no avail as you kept walking.

The door was wide open when you reached it, shameless and uncaring of getting caught.

And you stood there, frozen, shattering into pieces as you watched your husband mold his naked body into another woman, his metal fingers tangled in her blonde hair, his hips driving back and forth recklessly, their faces contorted in pleasure while a picture of you and him on your wedding day stood on the nightstand.

It felt like a bullet to the heart when he lifted his head and met your eyes.

Gone were the soothing blues you'd called home, gone was the man you'd given your all, who you'd grown to love, to trust.

There were only dark gray hues laced with no guilt, no remorse, a face resembling the love of your life but was truly the Devil incarnate.

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks in quick succession, bile and air stuck in your throat, your heart stopping as something warmer, thicker with a metallic scent trickled down your leg.

He grinned.

You gasped.

•••

Bucky noticed how you'd been short with him lately.

Your kisses were less enthusiastic, his touches or any form of affection were being brushed off, your conversations turning brief, other times barely happening at all.

He tried to reason that you simply needed space, that maybe he was overbearing, overstimulating your senses by hovering around you too much. But, really, who could blame him for taking care of you and making sure his pregnant wife was healthy and safe?

But it was at night that his concern turned to suspicion, when you were facing away from him when you slept, muttering and mumbling, restless. It was when you'd flinch in surprise when he'd wake you up, eyes dazed with something else other than drowsiness. He'd ask you what was wrong, and each time you'd shake your head wordlessly and attempt to go back to sleep.

He remained patient though. It was the least he could do, especially in your state.

Still, that didn't mean he wasn't downright worried, especially when he found something uncanny about your behavior.

Bucky expected your irritability and annoyance. You snapping at him for something so mundane was a common thing he'd been facing lately and had certainly no qualms over. Your mind, emotions, and body were going through a lot and in waves, it was the bare minimum for him to understand. So he never took your harsh glares and clipped tones to heart.

But what was uncanny was the look of doubt, followed by a flicker of fear and then the heartbreak that would cross your face. It was in split seconds, when you see him on the phone, when he was out longer than he'd promised after getting you one of your weird cravings, when he came back late at night after a spontaneous outing with the guys when Wanda and Nat all but kicked him out since it was their turn to pamper you.

Bucky had a feeling that something was wrong. He simply couldn't put a finger as to what.

The nagging voice in the back of his head only grew when Sam and Sarah were in town. It was a surprise visit, so they didn't catch you in time.

You were already out with your mother, a rocky relationship that you hoped would start to mend over baby clothes and strollers.

"Bucky! Come on!" Sarah groaned playfully when he refused to tell them the gender of the baby.

He wanted you to disclose it, and he certainly wasn't going to do it without you by his side. You found out together, it was only fair you tell people the news together, too.

The harsh slam of the front door silenced everyone.

Bucky knew it was you right away, rushing to meet you in the hallway when he heard the intensity of your heartbeat and the sharpness of your breaths, footsteps hurried as if you'd been running.

"Hey," he said softly, cupping your face in his hands, his heart clenching at the sight of your stricken features. "What's wrong?"

It took you a minute to respond, eyes flickering between his face and over his shoulder, like you were looking for something. Bucky watched your body slowly relax when Sam and Sarah followed closely behind him.

It only confused him more.

"You feeling okay?" he asked, thumb stroking your warm cheek as he gently placed the other on your stomach.

"Y-Yeah, I thought—" You shook your head, finally meeting his eyes with a sad smile. "Mom canceled last minute."

"Oh I'm sorry, sweetheart," he sighed, pulling you into his arms, kissing the top of your head when you let out a shaky breath, cheek pressed on his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

Bucky knew how you were truly looking forward to this day. You'd been carefully dividing your lists into two so you could buy things with your mother and then with him, too.

"We'll just get those on our shopping trip, okay?" he murmured against your crown, hands rubbing soothing patterns on your back. Glancing behind him, he added with a lighter tone, "Or you can give Sam the list and he'll just gift us everything."

"Oh I would gladly do it," The self—not really—proclaimed uncle agreed. "If Buckaroo here will finally tell us whether we're having a niece or a nephew."

Bucky scoffed, "You know you can choose gender-neutral colors, right?"

"Oh no, I'm not talking about colors," Sam said, grinning. "I'm talking about quantity."

"Are you saying the niece gets more?" you asked with a soft laugh as you pulled away. The sound brushed away Bucky's worry, if only briefly, as he felt the tension leave your body. Still, his arm remained on your waist as you turned to your guests, his thumb rubbing soft circles as a means of comfort.

"Obviously," Sam confirmed, rolling his eyes playfully. "Gotta treat her like a princess."

"Can't argue with that." Bucky turned to you with an encouraging nod. "You want to put them out of their misery?"

"Well, you're having…" you trailed off, smile widening, eyes twinkling as a joyful glow kissed your face. The exact reason why Bucky loved letting you tell the news and being there when you did so. "A nephew."

The contrast between the siblings' reactions was amusing. Sarah erupted into a cheer resembling happiness and victory, while Sam all but threw his head back with a groan. Bucky still saw his friend try his best to hide a smile, though.

"I told you!" Sarah playfully smacked his brother on the arm. "A mother's intuition is never wrong."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam rolled his eyes, before turning to you with a proud grin, arms wide open. "Come here you."

You chuckled as you walked into his embrace, mumbling a soft "Thank you" at his congratulations. Sarah hugged you next, all teary yet happy smiles and sweet words as you both wandered to sit in the living room, the mother of two boys already gushing to you about endless advice.

"I'm happy for you man," Sam said as he pulled Bucky into a hug, patting his back before pulling away with narrowed eyes. "You better be taking care of her."

"Of course I am," Bucky scoffed, turning to watch you with a fond smile as you chatted animatedly, excitement evident in your well-being. "Hell, she might even be getting annoyed with my overbearing ass."

"Well, it's better to be overbearing than absent," Sam stated.

Bucky couldn't agree more.

Because fine, maybe he was being too much by always keeping an eye out for you even though you were safe and sound, lounging on the couch as Sam started pestering you about naming the baby after him. But if he wasn't, then he would've missed the way your smile slipped from time to time, shoulders slumping with exhaustion before you'd catch yourself and sit straight up and pretend your energy was still high.

He was thankful that Sam was perceptive enough to catch it too, along with the hints Bucky was throwing his way. So they cut their visit short, understanding that you needed to get some rest even if you hadn't explicitly said so.

Bucky was right on his call when the second the front door shut closed, your body visibility deflated, the day finally catching up with you.

He was probably hovering like a goddamn helicopter, trailing behind you when you did as much as walk from the living room to the bathroom, and then waiting for you outside the door. But if he hadn't, he would've missed your soft sniffles on the other side and the far-away look in your eyes once he'd checked on you twice after taking way too long inside than how you normally took.

If Bucky hadn't been overbearing, he would've missed the signs that something was bothering you, like something was eating away at your conscience.

"Hey, come here," he called for you later that night, sitting on the edge of the bed and beckoning you closer with his hands outstretched. Tangling your fingers together, he pulled you to stand in front of his opened legs, kissing your bump before resting his cheek on it, looking up at you with nothing but concern. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, attempting to smile but it didn't quite reach your eyes. "Just tired."

That only made his worry grow more.

It was something he'd noticed lately, too, how you'd been having trouble sleeping, much less, staying asleep. Most of the time, once you were comfortable in bed, it only took you a minute or two before you were out like a light.

At first, Bucky thought it was because you were nearing the end of your second trimester. It was to be expected, according to the countless pregnancy books he'd buried his face in and the weekly pregnancy calendar he found on the internet—which showed how big the baby was, what symptoms you were likely to feel and ways to aid you through it, how many weeks there were left, exercises to keep you comfortable and healthy and so on—he used as a guide.

But he didn't think nightmares were supposed to be part of it.

Bucky knew they weren't merely innocent dreams because you were always so shaken when he'd wake you up. There was always a sting settling in his chest when you'd pull away from his touch for a good few moments, eyes avoiding his as you tried to catch your breath. You'd only crawl back into his arms once your heart had settled into a calm rhythm, the haze in your irises never truly gone but faded.

You never told him what your dreams consisted of and Bucky never pushed.

He couldn't. Not with the risk of upsetting you even more. All he could do was remain patient. He knew you would tell him eventually.

Bucky just wished it didn't have to take your breaking point for that to happen.

•••

The mumbling was what stirred him awake.

Bucky quickly sat up to check on you, his frown growing deeper once he saw your features littered with distress.

Yet before he had the chance to gently take you away from your troubled slumber, you suddenly shot up with a distressed shout,

"No!"

Your sobs immediately hit his ears, your frantic hands pulling the sheets away as if they were suffocating you. Your body trembled, chest heaving as you hastily checked your bump before you trailed your fingers down your inner thighs, bringing them up to your line of sight as if you were expecting to see something horrible coating your skin.

Dread clutched at Bucky's heart when the inkling as to what you expected to see evaded his mind.

"Hey, hey, hey," he rushed, kneeling in front of you and grabbing your face in his hands in an attempt to snap you out of your panic. Tear-filled eyes met his and his heart broke at the utter fear and agony that covered your face.

He pressed his forehead against yours, never looking away as he kept one cold hand on your burning and wet cheek and took yours with the other. He pressed your palm above his heart, hoping that it would help ground you.

"Breathe, sweetheart," he coaxed, inhaling deeply, encouraging you to follow, exhaling once you did. He took your other hand and pressed it against his jaw, letting his warm breath flow over your palm to help aid you in steadying your breathing. "That's it, my love, breathe with me."

Bucky repeated the action as many times he could, marrying it with encouraging words, only stopping when he could hear your heart slow to a steady beat.

"Y-You—" You choked back a whimper, burying your face into his neck as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, gripping him tightly. "I-I'm okay."

It sounded more like a question than it was a statement to Bucky.

"You're okay," he reassured firmly, kissing your forehead and steadying your shaking hands over your stomach. "You both are."

Silence covered the room aside from your deep breaths, the soft rustling of the sheets following suit as Bucky shifted to sit behind you, guiding you between his legs until your back was pressed against his chest. You rested all your weight on him, his hands covering your own as he coaxed them to move in slow circles over your stomach. He littered your shoulder with soft kisses, trailing up the side of your neck then your cheek, moving back down as he whispered sweet reassurances.

"You wouldn't do that to me, w-would you?" you asked after a moment.

"Do what, my love?"

Your voice came out as a broken whisper, as if you were scared to say it any louder, as if it would come true if you did.

"Cheat on me."

Bucky's answer was immediate.

"No." He gently turned you around in his arms, your legs thrown over his thigh as you sat sideways. Taking your face in his hand, he nudged the tip of your nose with his to get you to look at him, to let you see the truth in his eyes, emotions bared and unhidden. "I would never."

You nodded meekly before dropping your head, his lips touching your crown.

"Sweetheart, hey," he whispered, fingers finding your chin to prevent you from hiding again. His frown deepened when you met his gaze, the pain and conflict coating your dulled irises doing nothing to ease his worries. "Where is this coming from?"

But with one look at your trembling form and troubled eyes, Bucky's heart sank at the realization.

"Doll…" He took a deep breath, thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. "Is this what you've been dreaming of lately?"

Bucky never expected for such a small nod to break his heart so much.

"I-I watched you and—"

"No, no, no," he interrupted, shaking his head vehemently, kissing the tip of your nose, and then each of your eyelids. "You don't have to tell me right now. I don't want you to dwell on it for too long."

"I have to get out," you whispered yet your tone was adamant, fingers starting to nervously fiddle with his vibranium ones.

Bucky hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to stress you out more than you already were. But when you squeezed his hand reassuringly, he sighed, offering you a small yet supportive smile. "Okay. But don't force it, please, sweetheart. I don't want you getting upset even more."

You nodded.

Bucky listened.

He listened with bated breath as you recounted your dreams, his heart tearing itself apart, piece by piece with each gruesome detail you managed to stutter out. Heels. Clothes. Stairs. Sounds. Bedroom. Bodies. Picture Frame.

Bucky made sure to remind you to take your time and take deep breaths, it's just a bad dream, wiping away your tears as he held you close in his arms, you're my everything, littering whichever part of you he could reach with soft kisses to remind you were here, present in reality with him, and that you're okay.

Bucky never thought he'd feel inhumane anger over a version of himself that wasn't and would never be part of reality. He'd honestly die first. Yet, even then, he still couldn't picture subjecting you to such awful betrayal and hurt.

If he could jump into your dreams and excruciatingly make that asshole pay, no matter if it was some version of him, he would do it over and over and over again. No questions asked.

"And t-then there was b-blood," you took a sharp breath, a knife into Bucky's chest as fresh tears escaped your eyes, your grip around his hand tightening. "I-I lost our—"

"That's enough," Bucky interrupted, voice soft yet hoarse as a lump lodged itself in his throat, blinking away his unshed tears. With one hand on the back of your head, he pressed his lips against your brow. "It's just a nightmare, sweetheart."

"It f-felt so real," you choked back a sob, shaking your head as if you were hoping it would rid the images away.

"This is real," Bucky said, placing your palm on his cheek, the other on your baby bump with his own hands covering yours. "You're okay. Our baby boy is okay. We are going to be okay."

You nodded, taking deep, shaky breaths as you brought his palm to your lips. You kissed it a few times, three more before you wrapped his arms around your form, leaning forward to bury your face into his neck.

"I would never do that to you," he murmured against the side of your head, rubbing gentle circles on your back. "You trust me, right?"

"I do!" you said, eyes frantically looking into his with all the reassurance you could muster despite your tiredness, lips trembling as you repeated, "I trust you with everything that I have. I trust you with my life, Buck—"

He nodded. He knew you did. He didn't feel any ounce of uncertainty in your voice, didn't see any assumption that he was capable of being unloyal in your eyes. Maybe that was where your conflict came from, your heart battling with the lies your subconscious was feeding you.

This wasn't about the strength of your trust in him. This was something else entirely.

"Who put this in your head, hmm?"

Bucky knew you well enough, how you sometimes got too into your overthinking mind. Your past relationships definitely contributed to that fact. Toxicity to downright emotional abuse and various infidelities from previous boyfriends, it was no surprise that you came out of those relationships scarred.

You went to therapy when you finally had the resources to, and Bucky was always there to support you, told you it was nothing to be ashamed of. Hell, he was going to individual sessions himself, much less frequently compared to his earlier years, but the path to healing was never linear. He even suggested couples counseling—once a month at best, twice on the bad ones. Not because something was broken with your relationship, but only as a tool to be able to understand each other more, to keep things healthy between you both.

It helped tremendously.

You'd grown to shine brighter each day, letting yourself be free of the doubtful voices and instead accept and own that you were deserving to be loved, strongly, loyally, and unconditionally.

Now, after being together for eight years—three in a relationship and five years of marriage—you and Bucky were stronger, healthier, happier. And with a baby boy on the way, he knew it would only strengthen your bond, adding more joy and love to your little family.

But recently, your pregnancy hadn't been easy on your mental state. With your body preparing itself to welcome new life into this world, to your hormones fluctuating, it only heightened your emotions, and that included the bad ones.

So it wasn't far-fetched for your anxious thoughts to grow like weeds in your head, unrelenting and parasitic with no means of stopping unless you pluck it out from the root. But for the first sprout to emerge, someone had to have planted that seed first.

"Remember when I went on that 'girl's night in' get-together?"

Bucky sighed. That was two weeks ago. He should've known that your quietness when you got home was something to be worried about. Even more when it was roughly the same time you started having trouble sleeping. To think that you had to deal with your dreams alone for that long—

He pulled you closer, rubbing your arms with a kiss on your forehead. "Yeah, I remember."

"Do you remember Karla?"

Bucky remembered her too. He only met her once when you brought him as your plus one to her engagement party. Now, he wasn't the type of person who was quick to pass judgment on people, especially at the first meeting. But first impressions? She hadn't exactly been the best, too forward and sometimes, rude for Bucky's liking. But she was your friend, so he let it slide.

"She arrived late. She was already very drunk and distraught," you continued once Bucky confirmed with a nod. "We immediately tried to console her, get her to calm down, but she just wouldn't let go of the bottle of whisky, started grabbing the wine the girls were having and chugging it down too. Turns out, she walked in on her fiancé with her best friend in their living room."

Bucky pressed his lips against your crown with a sigh, rubbing circles on your back as he let you pick at the metal plates of his arm. It was a nervous habit. Yet you also said it was comforting, grounding, getting to feel the coldness of the prosthetic.

"Then she looked at me and saw my bump—God that dress didn't really hide much, huh?" you chuckled, voice void of humor.

Bucky loved that dress on you, and he showed you just how much before driving you to that get-together. It was a shame that the memory was now tainted.

"B-But, I don't know, it was probably because I was the only married one in our group, o-or she was just that drunk but she started targeting me," you paused with a deep breath, eyes meeting his with a shake of your head as fresh tears gathered on your waterline.

"She started yelling at me and telling me that I was rubbing it in her face, what she could've had. And then she started screaming how you would do the same any day now, if you weren't already doing it because it was obvious you won't like it that my body is changing and getting bigger a-and that you'd find some slimmer model and she told me to leave you before it's too late and I just—"

Bucky felt hot white rage grip him.

He couldn’t care less what other people's opinions of him were. With what his past life was, he learned not to let it get to him. He should feel insulted, to hear the disrespect against his morals to downright questioning his loyalty to his wife, especially from someone he couldn't give a shit about.

But he wasn't mad about that. Oh no.

He was furious about what you had to endure.

The audacity of someone to make you upset and stressed, especially in your current condition, had him outraged. No one, absolutely no one had the right to raise their voice, much less, fucking yell at you. He didn't care if it was the president of some country, a powerful alien or a close family friend—

Nobody disrespects his wife.

"You know none of that is true," he said as calmly as he could despite wanting to give that 'friend' of yours a piece of his mind. Cupping your face with both hands, he brushed his thumbs against the corner of your lips. "Hell, I showed you how much I love your changing body earlier that day in the kitchen, didn't I?"

That managed to coax a giggle from you, faint and teary but he still took it as a win.

"Look, what happened to your friend was awful. I wouldn't ever wish that on anyone," he said, jaw clenching. "But for her to bring you down with her while you're pregnant? That's just cruel."

"I'm sorry," you whispered sadly, pressing his palm on your lips. "I shouldn’t have let her words get to me."

"Sweetheart, no, you did nothing wrong," Bucky insisted. "Your emotions are all over the place as is, your hormones even more. And I know how impressionable you get when your anxiety is high and, fuck, you must've been so stressed when she basically berated you in front of everyone I just—" He took a deep breath, pressing his forehead against yours. "I wish you could've told me sooner."

"I was worried you'd take it the wrong way," you admitted shakily. "Because I do trust you, but things got loud in my head and I just—"

"I know," he hummed, smiling reassuringly. "I know, doll. You don't have to explain it to me."

You sighed, nodding, your body slowly relaxing with a hint of a grateful smile touching your lips. And with the weight slowly falling off your shoulders, your drowsiness followed suit—the fluttering of your eyelids, the calmness of your breaths as you all but rested on him.

Bucky fluffed your pregnancy pillow before gently guiding you to a comfortable position, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose before pressing his lips gently onto yours. He hummed at your satisfied sigh, hands caressing your body, pouring as much of his love into every simple touch as he could muster.

"You're my whole world, my everything," he whispered to you and you only, the person who matters to him the most. "I would never put myself in a position where I'd even risk losing the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Bucky's brows furrowed when he felt a flutter against his palm where he'd rested it on your bump.

"I think someone's a little jealous," you teased softly, fingers pushing his hair away from his forehead.

"Now, we can't have that," he chuckled, shifting his body until he was face-to-face with your belly. He pulled at your shirt, revealing your skin before littering each part and stretch marks with loving kisses. Smiling, he corrected himself, "One of the best things that's ever happened to me."

His grin grew wider as you started carding your fingers through his hair. He could honestly fall asleep like this, resting on your bump with your loving touches.

"Say, you're going to kick my ass if I hurt Mama, wouldn't you, squirt?" he murmured against your tummy, his heart lurching when he felt a faint kick. Bucky gaped at you, chuckling at your giggles before pressing his lips back on your skin. "Gonna be a mama's boy I can already tell."

"I love you," you said, eyes glistening but with the smile that graced your face, Bucky knew they were happy tears this time.

"And I love you," he hummed, resting his cheek on your bump to meet your gaze, his fingers tracing hearts on your skin. "Both of you."

•••

"Doll, you don't have to do this."

"They're going to be here in an hour."

"I know but you shouldn't be on your feet too much."

"Exercise is good for pregnant women," you said, tilting your head at your husband with a knowing grin. "You told me that, according to the books you've read."

"I know what I said," Bucky groaned, hands finding your hips as he tried to gently steer you to sit on the chair, again. "But in moderation, you've been standing for—"

"Five minutes since you last made me sit down," you giggled, continuing to set up the dinner table with the snacks and appetizers you had set up. The main meal was kept warm in the oven.

It was your turn to host the get-together your friend group had once a month. And being in your third trimester, you were unable to stay up too late. So you opted on having a small brunch instead of the usual nightly gathering.

"Then, let me take care of the rest, please?" he begged, wrapping his arms around your form to stop your movements, lips pressed on the thin strap of your sundress. And if he wasn't overly cautious about your well-being, he probably would've already carried you to bed to let you rest. "Just sit and order me around."

Now, who could deny that offer?

Bucky was a great husband.

You knew this and he had done nothing but actively prove that to you time and time again.

You knew you shouldn't have let yourself get to a point of spiraling deep into your anxious thoughts that they started to affect your dreams somehow. But it honestly got overwhelming so quickly that you didn't get the chance to snap out of it. Worse yet, it made you dig the hole deeper and deeper by keeping it to yourself.

It was a lapse in judgment and, as Bucky had said, your emotions were all over the place. Not to mention, the situation wasn't at all pleasing, getting yelled at in front of an audience was awful already, a recipe for anxious disaster. What more if your hormones were making everything ten times worse?

Your friend simply caught you at the wrong moment.

The same friend that was going to be coming over in a few minutes.

You didn't tell Bucky yet because you knew he would never let her into the house. But you were willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. She was drunk and hurting that night, emotions probably driving her rash decisions. Granted you hadn't spoken to her since, but she probably didn't mean what she had said.

Or so you thought.

After shooting you an admonishing look when he recognized who walked into the door last, Bucky was back in Pilot Mode.

It's what you named his hovering because he did go into certain modes when taking care of you, even if he argued otherwise. And despite having agreed that he was going to give you and the girls space—and he had been sulking in his office as he watched whatever game there was on—it rapidly changed when the party moved to your backyard.

The sun was at its peak in the clear blue sky, warmth evident in the air despite sitting under the shade of the large patio umbrella Bucky installed himself.

First, it was pulling you aside for some sunscreen, lathering your skin up as he lectured you about taking sips of water every now and then to stay hydrated and to go back inside if it got too hot. Then, it was standing in the kitchen, right by the open window where he had a clear view of you, discreetly observing even though his large stature was making him so obvious. Your friends had giggled about it since most did find it endearing. That last one was him bursting out of the backdoor with a cold glass of water and a clean towel in hand, wiping away any sweat that littered your skin and urging you to drink, parting away with a chaste yet loving kiss.

It was what made Karla snap.

"God, I can't believe you still fall for that shit," she scoffed once your husband had gone back inside. "Like, seriously, have you ever heard of love bombing?"

Everyone went silent at that.

"He's overprotective," you countered, though you could already start to feel your heart rate start to increase.

"More like he's overcompensating for something," she grumbled, rolling her eyes. "He was a trained assassin back in the day, wasn't he? Surely he'd learned a thing or two about hiding secrets."

"Karla, drop it," Grace, a friend truly close to you, hissed with a sharp glare.

"I'm trying to save her from yet another heartbreak," she argued, before turning to you. "Like we all know how gullible and naïve you can get, a few romantic gestures and you're already blinded. I mean, considering your track record of cheaters, you should already know the signs. I know I see them with how your husband's been doting on you. It's the same thing the asshole did to me."

Your hands shook as you held the glass of water tighter, tears threatening to spill as you gritted, "Bucky is not the same—"

"Jesus, you need to open your eyes!" Karla interrupted. "I never expected you to still be this stupid—"

"That's enough."

Bucky's voice boomed through the air, his looming presence immediately behind you with a protective arm around your waist. Emotions at a high, you didn't even realize you stood up from your seat. You tried catching his gaze, but he was glaring at Karla who had now quieted down, shrinking in her place.

"I don't care about your assumptions about my morals and character because your opinion doesn't matter to me. So say whatever you want to say about me. But the second you disrespect my wife—" Bucky screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, reeling back his anger when he felt your hand on his arm.

Opening his eyes, he turned to look at you. You shook your head, not wanting to make this any bigger. He sighed, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles and then your ring before turning to Karla.

"I love making my wife happy, and she'd been looking forward to this get-together to catch up with friends. But she isn't supposed to be around any kind of stressors during her pregnancy," he said, glare dead set on your so-called friend, voice dropping as he gritted, "So get out of my fucking house."

"Buck—"

"Doctor's orders, my love. I can call her right now if you want." He gave you a sweet, knowing smile. You nodded because you knew there was no point arguing with him. Bucky turned to your friend when she refused to move. "Well? Do you want me to drag you out?"

Karla gaped at everyone, waiting for someone to protest, huffing and puffing when she found no support. It didn't take long for her to gather her things and for the front door to slam shut.

The silence hung in the air for a good minute.

"Good fucking riddance," Grace scoffed, the tension breaking as a chorus of agreement came out from everyone. "I honestly don't get why you still invited her."

"Too kind for her own good," Bucky said, raising his brow at you. You shook your head at him with a soft laugh, squeezing his hand gratefully.

"You're in your guard dog mode again," you teased.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but didn't bother denying it. That only made you grin wider.

"Well, this is supposed to be a girls' thing so I'll leave you ladies to your own devices." He nodded at everyone, giving you a sweet peck on the lips before making his way back into the house, even though you knew he was only going back to his station in the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, everyone started gushing at you.

"You're so lucky but God you deserve it!"

"Girl, you need to set me up with a friend of his, like surely they're going to be roughly the same, right?"

"Honestly, I'm glad you're getting your happy ever after."

"Does he use that deep voice on you in bed?"

"Oh my god!" you squeaked at the last one, covering your warm face with your palms. When you peeked between your fingers, the girls were all looking at you with expectant grins, brows wriggling. You sighed, "Maybe."

They all erupted into delighted laughs at that, the conversation turning into a slightly salacious turn as they started trading in stories—both good and horrendous—and asking you for some advice on how to keep a guy satisfied or even just to spill the beans on what you and your husband get up to in bed.

Obviously, you didn't kiss and tell—well, not in too much detail. You still couldn't help but sing Bucky's praises. Of course you had to give credit where credit is due.

It was a few moments in when you caught Bucky's gaze in the open window. His wink and that handsome yet smug—his ego inflated that's for sure—smile was enough to tell you that he was listening in like the goddamn nosy super soldier that he was.

You rolled your eyes, yet your joyous smile wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Because to be in reality with James Buchanan Barnes, your husband, the love of your life, was way better than any dream you could ever have.

✫*｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated!

✉ NO TAGLIST: go follow @t-lostinlibrary and turn on notifications to get updated on my works!

© t-lostinworlds, 2023 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

#birwm #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert #sebastian stan #my writing

1K notes · View notes