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sugarcoatedstarkey · 3 months

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Do you love me?

Pairings - Rafe x reader

Summary - you catch Rafe watching porn. Based on this ask

Warnings - masturbation, porn, reader being sad, language, unprotected sex. (18+)

A/n- always have the conversation with your partner about porn, some people don’t care but others do so please don’t leave any rude comments.

When you had gone looking for your boyfriend around 11pm you had expected to find him asleep on the couch, credits to the movie the two of you had tried watching running in the background. White noise helped him sleep. What you hadn’t expected to find was your boyfriend watching porn, on the big screen. His cock between his hand as he tugged himself, soft moans and grunts spewing from his lips as he watched the scene in front of him.

A perfect curved blonde bounced on a thick cock, her pussy was immaculate. No hair or razor burn to be seen, just complete bareness. She was everything you weren’t, even the noises she made was better.

You had been so naive to think he didn’t watch porn, to believe you were enough to satisfy his needs. Of course you weren’t, you didn’t look like the girl on the screen. Your curves weren’t perfect, your hair didn’t look like that and you definitely didn’t sound or act the way she did which apparently had Rafe beating his cock harder.

Stepping away from the door you creeped back to the bedroom, the tears fell before you even made it under the blanket. Your body shaking against the mattress in sadness, this shouldn’t have such an affect on you. Everyone watches porn, you’ve watched porn but that was before Rafe. Before you had his perfect body at your disposal.

Pressing the palms of your hands into your face to ease the tears, taking deep breaths to stop the noises. The sound of the living room door closing has you burrowing under the blanket, hiding your face so he can’t see you.

It feels like hours go by before he steps into the room, moving around quietly as he strips his clothes off. He always slept naked, a sight you’d never get over. You feel his side of the bed dip and the ruffle of the blanket, you don’t expect his arm to pull you against his chest. “You're awake” he whispers, the thump of your heart giving you away. His hand pressed firmly just above your breast, you stay quiet though. Hoping he just lets you go to sleep but of course he doesn’t, he’s spinning your body like a rag doll. “Why’s your heart beating so fast?”.

The room is pitch black, he’s unable to see your bloodshot eyes. His fingers dance up and down your spine waiting for your answer. “Not sure” your voice is raspy, a tell tale sign something’s wrong. His hand is hitting the bedside lamp within seconds, towering over your small frame. Fingers cupping your cheek softly, his eyes search your face and a deep frown settle between his eyebrows. “Why have you been crying?”.

You push at his chest, turning until your back is to him. Embarrassment settles in your chest, a sudden wave of nausea rushes through you. “Babe, don’t do that. Tell me why you’ve been crying?”

With all the confidence you can muster you turn slightly, looking him directly in the eyes. “Do you still love me?”

The deep chuckle vibrates his chest and he pulls himself to sit, your cheeks tinted red in anger and embarrassment you press your face into the pillow. “Oh hey hey babe no. Of course I love you. Why would you ask me that?”

His grabby hands prod you in the side, pulling at your waist so he can see your face. You slap his hands away when they reach for your face again, moving yourself until you say against the headboard. Knees pressed firmly to your chest, arms wrapped tight around you. “Are you attracted to me?” Tears start falling before you can catch them, bottom lip wobbling as you stare at him. The sobs come hard and fast, he’s holding your face firmly.

This time he stares at you, it's intense and you feel shy under his gaze. “Of course I am… your fucking perfect”

Your eyes rolled hard, no you weren’t. The tears keep coming but the attitude fights it way through. “Don’t roll your eyes” he grasps your wrists, yanking you until you straddle his lap. “No I'm not.. I don’t look like those girls”

Confusion evident on his face as he waits for you to explain, so unsure on what has made you feel this way. “Those girls” you whispered, too shy to explain you had caught him masterbsting to porn earlier. “Your going to need to explain baby”

“The girls in porn” you blurt, the corner of his lips turning up. A lightbulb going off above his head, he realises you must have seen him earlier. “I went to find you… I thought you’d fallen asleep, I didn’t mean to see you- you’know”.

Gripping your chin with his forefinger and thumb he angles your face up at him, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You think I don’t love you because of the girls in porn?”

You nod your head in embarrassment, you know you shouldn’t be feeling these things. “I was right here.. why didn’t you ask me to help?”

“Oh baby… your fucking perfect, those girls aren’t what I want. You are what I want… I watch porn when I don’t want to annoy you”

“Your not annoying me”

“Your pussy is fantastic, the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. I can’t get enough of it, I can’t get enough of fucking you… I love fucking you”

“Sweet girl, my sex drive is insane. I’m constantly horny, I can’t expect you to be willing and waiting for me every second of the day”

“Yes you can Rafe… if I’m around then use me, I understand if I’m not around. Of course porn would be your go to but I’m right here, I want you just as much as you want me and if it’s not sex you want, I’ll get on my knees for you”

He grins Cheshire Cat like, pupils blown to the max. His lips attack yours in one swift swoop, tongue slipping between your lips. It’s messy and full of heat, his grabby hands caress the skin of your exposed thighs.

Grinding you down onto his crotch, you can feel him hardening under you. You had forgotten he was naked for a brief moment, reaching down to grasp his cock. With just a few small tugs he was completely hard, throbbing in your palm. “Fuck baby… I hope you mean what your saying, I’m going to fuck this pussy until it’s a weeping mess every day… multiple times of the day” he states, kissing down the length of your neck.

He’s pulling your shorts to the side, pressing the head of his cock to your opening. Without warning you push down on him, his cock stretching you wide. “Shit… baby girl, I just about came. You feel so fucking good” he growls, he scoops your breasts out of the loose tank top. Sucking your nipples into his mouth harshly, your hips roll and bounce above him. “Not so fast, I want to show you how much I love fucking you” he breaths, wrapping his arm around your back he places you onto the bed.

Your legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts into you, it's deep and slow. Your walls spasm around him each time he nudges your clit, his lips suck deep purple bruises into your neck. “Oh yes Rafe… I can’t- I need you to go faster” you breath, your orgasm was fluttering.

Pressing the heels of your feet into his lower back, he shook his head moving his lips across your jaw onto your lips. His pace quickened only by a fraction, not enough to bring you over the edge. “Going slow baby.. want you to understand how much I love you and how much I love this body, you are the only person I want”

You nod your head, understanding his words. You had over reacted to what you had seen, completely understanding why he used porn at certain times. “Yes baby.. I understand. Please”

He loved hearing you beg, he knew you were close by the way your cunt sucked him deeper. He reached between you, pressing his fingers to your aching clit. “Yes yes yes”

This was enough to have you crying out under him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him in close. Fingernails racking up the length of his back as your orgasm washed over you, he was quick to follow, still sensitive from his previous abuse on his cock.

“I love you baby… not porn okay”

“I know, but I was serious… use me okay. I’m here whenever you want me”

“Your going to regret that”

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milky-aeons · 2 months

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'𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.

warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k

ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.

Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?" That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"

: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.

: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.

: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;

"You — are absolutely breath-taking."

: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.

"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."

: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.

𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .

"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"

Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.

"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.

And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.

ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎

: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.

: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!

: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.

: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.

"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."

: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.

: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.

"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander." "Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."

: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .

"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.

Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.

But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;

"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"

Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.

"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.

He grunted. "Same... thing."

ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.

: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!

Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands. Will you marry me?

: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.

: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.

: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .

"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.

"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"

"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.

And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.

"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."

Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."

ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.

: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.

: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.

: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;

"There you are, my wife."

: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.

: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.

: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .

"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."

"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."

Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.

He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.

"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."

ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘

: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.

: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.

"So? Are you ready to get married?" You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.

: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;

"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."

: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.

: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

"Fyodor?"

"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.

"Why did you ask to marry me?"

Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.

Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."

✎ . . . requested by the lovely @cocodrilofeliz!

WRITING REQUESTS

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delirious-donna · 2 months

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Expensive Taste [Extra Drabble]

Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother

an: I love added detail and I wondered what reader would get up to now she is aware of who’s bedroom she is standing in. If anyone is curious about the watch mentioned, the link to it is here for visual reference.

pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

warnings: none at all

Series Masterlist

“C’mon c’mon,” you muttered to yourself, listening to the incessant ringing in your ear. The line clicked over to voicemail. You cursed loudly, tossing your phone onto the plush bed. A bed that wasn’t yours, not even temporarily.

Your fingers tightened into the fluffy white towel fixed around your chest, a sense of guilt settling in your gut. It was ridiculous. You didn’t know you were in someone’s home. Blowing out a long breath, you spun on the spot. There were details you missed on first entering the room, and finding them now only made you feel foolish.

Set upon the right-hand nightstand was a black leather organiser with an expensive-looking watch displayed next to a retro alarm clock. You padded closer, bending to examine the timepiece without touching it and blinked rapidly as you came face to face with an Omega watch.

Shit, those were expensive.

You didn’t dare to touch the steel links, only admired the yellow-gold detail and navy blue face from a safe distance whilst telling yourself not to pick up your phone and find out just how much money these would set someone back. It wasn’t any of your business. None at all.

Dressing with little care, you hopped around the room to pull your leggings up and caught sight of yourself in the floor-length mirror. What a situation to be in. You couldn’t decide if this was the plot of some rom-com or a horror movie, at this point, it could go either way. Even knowing that your instincts told you to trust him. If he had wanted to cause you harm, then his best opportunity had blown right by.

Suppressing a smile, you remembered how mortified he had looked once the realisation had set in. The look of a man who did not have a clue what to do and that only endeared you to him despite the unsavouriness of the situation.

You fixed your hair into a loose ponytail, thankful that only the ends were wet with your untimely splashing session in the bath, and that’s when you spied the inset doorway to the left of the mirror.

Curiosity killed the cat, or so the saying goes.

Maybe it wasn’t a good quality of yours, this inability to resist temptation, but an open entryway wasn’t snooping, was it? You weren’t rifling through his drawers or looking at anything not openly on display. That was your argument, and you were sticking to it.

“Goddamn…”

For the second time this day, you spun a full 360 in what turned out to be an immaculate walk-in closet. Had you spied this earlier, there would have been no doubt in your mind that this place belonged to a man and a wealthy one at that.

The racks were neatly arranged into categories, with shirts of white, navy, black and grey hung with pristine creases highlighted in the sleeves and the cuffs and collars starched. Another housed trousers with matching jackets in the section next to them. You reached out tentatively, fingertips brushing against the thick expensive fabric. Just how much money did this guy earn?

One thing you noticed was that the area reserved for what you would consider casual attire was remarkably sparse. A few thin-knit sweaters hung with care. A pile of folded t-shirts stacked beneath and one pair of folded light blue denim jeans. Workout shorts and a few Under Armour compression shirts finished your perusal of the more than generous space.

Each item spoke of luxury, of an indulgence in the finer things in life but it did not necessarily strike you as excess. You gathered that everything in here held a purpose, be it to dress to impress at work or get the most from a workout. Nothing seemed like the kind of impulse buys that you were guilty of on the odd occasions you felt flush with money. Whether it was your place or not, it spoke to something within you, and you liked that he was indulgent where it counted.

You didn’t dare to open the drawers beneath, scared to death of what you might find—underwear mostly likely. Instead, you scurried back into the bedroom, terrified that he might return if you took too long.

It would be a lie to deny you were curious about him. He was far from old enough to be Karin’s father, a brother perhaps? You worried your bottom lip with your teeth, eyebrows pinched at the thought you might not know your friend as well as you assumed.

The man had an immaculate taste, but you very much got the impression that he was a workaholic. Even from the brief time you had spent together in the steamy bathroom, the fatigue was evident on his face. He could use a vacation most likely.

With that thought in mind, you went in search of the man in question. Several outcomes were jostling in your brain for attention, and all you hoped was that it wouldn’t end with you out on the streets with nowhere to go.

This Nanami Kento wouldn’t be so heartless, would he?

#delirious writes #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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serena-babes · 1 month

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Hazbin hotel random headcanons

super unedited ⋆⭒˚.⋆

honestly wrote these off of the top of my head it's the most random assortment of people.

Lucifer, Charlie, Alastor, Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Sir pentcious, Adam

⋆ ๋𓂃✦༢⋆ ๋𓂃✦༢⋆ ๋𓂃✦༢⋆ ๋𓂃✦༢⋆ ๋𓂃✦༢⋆ ๋𓂃✦༢⋆ ๋𓂃✦༢⋆ ๋𓂃✦༢⋆ ๋𓂃✦༢⋆ ๋𓂃✦༢

Lucifer:

He most definitely Drinks milk at dinner every night and I'm not talking a little glass I'm TALKING A GLASS a chalice even, filled TO THE BRIM, every night without fail.

(sorry to my milk drinkers)

Either texts every two seconds or doesn't text at all there is zero in-between

I dont know what it is but I feel like he doesn't season his food

An animal cracker is the most seasoned thing he has had in years I just know it

Knows how to tap dance scarily good

Screams like a girl

Puts hair in rollers nightly and has the most CRAZY ASS skin routine ever

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹

Charlie:

Hasent spelled restaurant correctly in years but was a straight A student

Chronic energy drink drinker

Has one of those custom blankets but it's just her and vaggie on it

All of her socks are mitch matched

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹

Alastor:

Knows Morse code and can't swim

Plays slipping sound effects whenever someone trips around the hotel and then giggles to himself like a little schoolgirl

Has a diary

The type to say “Seems like we've gotten ourselves into a pickle”

Cannot balance on one foot

Probably heard dubstep one time and had a seizure

Seasons his food CORRECTLY

Either a “I shower once a week that's good enough” or a bubble bath with oils and rose petals everyday type of guy

“Erm actually!”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹

Angel:

Can't do math

Says womp womp in the most serious convos

Bangs head on doors all the time due to height

Phone addiction BAD

Will only drink drinks if they are fruity He is the type to have to flavor their water

Has the most IMMACULATE music taste

Chronic gossiper

Uses :3 religiously

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹

Husk:

Also says womp womp at the ABSOLUTE WORST TIMES

Got beat by Angel so hard during uno one time and still holds a grudge

Black coffee every morning

Cannot cook I already know it

STRONG cologne scent

Thinks texting is the stupidest thing ever

After a long hard day, he goes home to go watch old Western movies

Wears wife beater tank tops religiously

Idk hes pretty chill not much to say about him

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹

Vaggie:

Goes to bed at 8:30pm SHARP

Needs glasses

Is REALLY good at cooking

Secretly enjoys fighting with people online (stan wars on twitter)

Washes face with some random soap and somehow its always perfect

Drinks Gatorade chronically

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹

Adam:

HEAVY BREATHER even when hes not doing anything IT IS CONSTANT

Would call people slurs nonchalantly

Really bad at reading

ALSO cannot swim

ALSO has a diary and writes in it nightly

Elon musk supporter

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹

Sir Pentcious:

(is that how you spell his name..?”

Eats cup mac and cheese every day

Scared of balloons

Loves those baby sensory videos with the peas and fruits

Basically an engineer

SO GOOD at just dance

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹

#charlie morningstar #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #niffty #vaggie #hazbin hotel adam #adam #adam x reader #adam x you #sir pentious #vaggie hazbin hotel #charlie x vaggie

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starbabyg · 5 months

Note

Can you do a smutty jack Hughes (like juraj and arber) ??

Jack Hughes smutty thots

you don’t gotta tell me twice to write about my baby daddy!!

Jack has such boyfriend energy when it comes to sex

Like that boyfriend you have in college that you experiment with and the two of you have a lot of firsts together

He loves having sex anywhere and anytime

He’ll drag you into the locker room before a game

“Come on y/n, no one’s in here they’re all on the ice for warm ups. It’ll be quick.”

You’re always so hesitant but somehow he always convinces you

He spends a lot of time beforehand just staring at your naked body

Hands running down your chest and stomach, “Fuck, you’re just so perfect”

Ohhhh how fine he looks as he bites his lip

Sometimes he forgets foreplay, that horny boy just wants to get straight to fucking

So you talk him through a lot

“Am I doing it right?” He’ll ask innocently as he’s going down on you

He’ll always look up at you while he gives you head, always trying to make sure you feel good

The fingering and clit sucking combo he does is immaculate

Once he gets the hang of it he’s perfect

He hits juuuust the right spot with his index and middle finger while swirling his tongue around your rose bud

When you squeal in pleasure he can’t help but laugh while still attached to you, chuckles reverberating through you

Much more of a receiver than a giver, he’s selfish with sex (he’s such a spoiled brat but I can’t help but love him)

He just lovessss how good you look while choking on his length

Holding your hair in a ponytail, he nods in approval “mmhmm just like that. Keep going and I’m gonna cum babe”

I feel like his dick is so pretty

Like it’s cut and the tip is a cute rosy pink. It has a single vein that just runs up the underside.

He either keeps is nice and trimmed or has a small bush, not too much tho cause he’s a manscaper lmfao

He has a lil happy trail that leads from his v-line downwards

It’s not a thick happy trail but it’s visible

He’s a biter

He loves to leave sloppy kisses along your tummy that end in tiny lil bites

It just leaves shivers down your spine

I feel like he loves a good hair tug

you give him the slightest bit of pressure when you tug his locks, ouuu it sets him off

He’s a freak for public sex

Has a list of places he wants to do it. This includes a beach, the movies, while he drives, and on the private plane (which are all going to be smuts soon wink wink lmk which one to do first)

He also has a voyeurism kink,,

Like he loves to fuck your loudly while his friends are over

It’s like he wants all of them to hear you screaming his name

“Mhmm, let ‘em know who’s making you feel this fucking good”

He’s just always so horny

He has to fuck you like five times a day

He wakes up, wants to fuck, before practice, wants to fuck, right before bed, wants to fuck

It’s insane that his skinny lil body has all that stamina

He loves to cuddle afterwards

He keeps a rag/baby wipes by the bed so he can clean you up as fast as possible because he just wants to lay in your arms

He honestly just loves being [half] naked with you

Little to no clothes is his favorite

He loves when you just wear one of his t shirts and your panties

It’s easier to access, just bend you over and fuck you wherever you are

Sex with him is just fun and cute

It gets hot and heavy

But it’s like young love sex

It’s romantic and silly and something you just remember forever

God I’m getting heartbroken cause I can’t fuck him rn!!!!

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ghostsferalgremlin · 1 year

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SIMON "GHOST" RILEY HEADCANONS

I had these headcanons in mind for a while now and i have no one to talk about cod so here we are.

................

• I picture him having pretty wild hair, not because he doesn't cut them or anything, but because he cuts them himself.

Not trusting anyone can lead you to ask people not to touch you, Simon defenitely doesn't want people touching him behind his back, where he can't see them, so he prefers to cut his own hair.

• If he is in a relationshin he would definitely seat on the wc while you take a bath.

He would follow you like a little golden retriever and sit there, he doens't mean any harm by it, he doesn't even think about you in an horny way or anything else, he just wants company and loves to hear you speaking while you take care of yourself, so he just sit and casually answer here and there when you ask him something.

● I don't think Simon perceive Ghost as something totally diffrent from Simon.

Having trauma makes you unable to "work correctly" in a kind of way, and Simon can't have himself have a panic attack or anything else in the field. I think Ghost is simply the more collect and calm part of himself and he knows it, Ghost is simply the part he uses when heneed stability and what Ghost rappresent is literally someone who has everything under control, always.

● He drinks, but not that much.

As i said before, he doesn't trust people, and being drunk means that you have to depends on other people to take care of you. He trusts the 141 tf, but he refuses to being in any kind of way in someone's hands, he has to be in control, always, so he has a specific number of drinks he can drink we does, after that is a big no.

● His music taste? Immaculate.

Let's be real here: he is traumatize and he goes by Ghost. Man definitely listen to metal and every single subgenre of it, he loves it and it's the only way he is sure he can still feel emotions outside of anger and fear.

• Not really a man whos love language is physical touch.

He touches you, he does, but his love language is quality time. He loves spending time with his loved one, speaking, cooking, listening to some music or just watching a movie, he love having someone, who he is in love with, around and listening to their voice.

• We are edgy here and we don't wear colors.

Man's whole wardrobe is black, camo, black. He has some things here and there cause people keeps buying it for his bdays, especialky Johnny, but he never wears them. He just look at them and goes: nope.

• Sweet tooth.

God this man LOVES sweet things, chocolate, candies, drinks, he wants them all. Once he found Gaz's secret storage and literally wiped it all, the poor man is still crying about it.

• He doesn't wear his mask to cover his scars.

As i said, he perceive Ghost as the obly part of him that can remains calm enough to do his job. The mask is something that helps him with this, once the mask is on he is not just Simon anymore, he is Ghost and he has everything under control. The scar story? Is just because he doesn't want to explain the truth to anyone.

• He has nighmares and pretty much refuses to sleep until he just pass out.

He is tired, he really is, but he forces himself to stay awake to avoid waking up amd feeling like he is just a step away from death, breathing is impossible to him when he wakes up like that and it leaves him feeling vulnerable for hours. He just prefers to let his body take control when taying awake is too much, this means he wont wake up, mostly.

................

#call of duty #call of duty headcanons #call of duty x reader #cod #cod headcanons #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost headcanons #ghost x reader

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yoonmeowzz · 1 year

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nct 127 ! being domestic

contents: nct 127 members x gn!reader, fluff, slice of life, established relationship, non idol au, use of pet names (babe, darling)

warnings: mentions of food (taeil and taeyong)

a/n: i've been thinking A LOT about johnny and mark and this kind of stuff so... yeah

taeil

having breakfast with taeil is definitely the most precious moment of the day. he's still sleepy and clingy so expect having his arms wrapped around you and his nose buried on your neck as you try to serve him a cup of water. just when he feels his stomach growling for food he would detach his body from yours to make toasts with butter and jam, or even just butter and some sugar cause he's lazy today. however he would remind you how good you look in the morning and how much he loves you.

"i can't believe you really wake up like that, y/n"

"like what?"

"like... wow"

⠀ ⠀⠀

johnny

even if people don't believe him, he's 6ft tall, so obviously he can reach every high place in the house. he enjoys seeing you trying to get things from the highest shelves but when you decide to give up and look for him, without saying a word he gets up and helps you getting what you wanted. he then feels his chest filled with this warm feeling he can’t explain, he just loves to help you, be there for you when you need him. he usually stays in the kitchen while you’re cooking, even if you told him to rest, just to get things for you.

“johnny…” he looked up from his phone and immediately went to take the bowl you needed.

“there you go, babe”

⠀ ⠀⠀

taeyong

taeyong appreciates every second he spends with you but late night talking is definitely his favorite thing to do with you. some days, he takes some snacks and drinks sneakily from the kitchen before going back to his room, where you are waiting for him with a smile. however, most of the time it’s just you and him hugging each other or simply lying next to each other while you talk about whatever crosses your mind.

“did you know that there was a greek stuttering orator? he’d practice hard every day to be able to speak in public without stuttering.”

“stop, y/n, i’m gonna get emotional”

⠀ ⠀⠀

yuta

on lazy days when neither of you have enough energy to do anything, he asks you to spend the day in bed. you accept without a doubt. y’all just cuddle for a while, maybe he takes a little nap while you’re on your phone. but his favorite part is lying down on your tummy and having your hands playing with his hair. he LOVES the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, gently twisting each hair strand. eventually he falls asleep to your slow breathing as the only background noise and once he wakes up he’s all clingy and lovely.

“did i already told you how much i love you?”

“you did, yuta, and i love you too. so much”

“i love you more, darling”

⠀ ⠀⠀

doyoung

activities with doyoung are always aesthetically pleasant, so cute coffee dates at home with homemade coffee are something usual now. he takes his time making your coffee look great so you can take pictures to remember this sweet moments with him when you’re away. after having your cups ready y’all just cuddle on the couch covered in cozy blankets and watch a movie or talk about nothing in particular.

“you said you wanted to try caramel macchiato so i tried to make it. if it tastes bad i can give you my cup”

“thank you so much, doyoung”

⠀ ⠀⠀

jaehyun

this man’s music taste is immaculate. you usually spend your lazy time together listening to music together while cuddling on his bed. you’re lying on top of him, your head resting on his chest as you listen to his calm heartbeat and flash by cigarettes after sex at the background. with his hands stroking your back slowly up and down you start dozing off, his arms secured around you.

“sleep tight, y/n” you hear him whisper over the music before finally falling asleep.

⠀ ⠀⠀

jungwoo

he’s kinda a clean freak so you try to keep things neat. however, he doesn’t mind if you leave the living room or bathroom messy cause he prefers cleaning together on weekends since he has lots of fun spending time with you, no matter what y’all are doing. if you’re tiding your shared bedroom he’s going to try on every piece of clothing he finds. sooner or later, your cleaning session becomes a fashion runway.

“check this hoodie, y/n!! do i look good?”

“you look amazing!!”

⠀ ⠀⠀

mark

messy hair mark, wearing his glasses and pajamas should be illegal cause he’s going to be the death of me. when he’s not busy he likes to spend his mornings with you, especially playing the guitar for you. you’re both sitting on his bed, he just plays some accords until you decide what song you want him to play. it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t know that particular song, he’d learn it for you. and when he starts singing ever so softly… i’m combusting

“i just wanna live in this moment forever…”

⠀ ⠀⠀

haechan

when he’s free from work he spends his time playing video games. but there’s something about playing mario kart with you that feels different. it may sound stupid, but competing with you or making silly bets like “the loser has to give the winner a kiss” is something really intimate and special for him. he usually is very competitive, but this time he doesn’t mind losing, having you by his side is already a win.

“if you win the tournament i’ll do everything you ask me for a week”

“and if i lose?” you raised an eyebrow.

“you have to love me forever”

⠀ ⠀⠀

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hotvintagepoll · 2 days

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Propaganda

Shima Iwashita (Goben no Tsubaki)—Shima Iwashita was THE leading lady of Shochiku (one of the 3 major movie studios in Japan) for over 16 years, including the entirety of 1960s. She's been two-time winner of the Blue Ribbon Awards for Best Actress and the winner of the Japanese Academy Award of actress in a leading role in 1977. Famously known in Japan as the actress best suited to wearing kimono, Iwashita often played elegant, strong-willed, and sometimes vengeful female characters. She is particularly adept at portraying women's independence and self-reliance, as well as their delicate inner feelings, and has portrayed a number of sentimental and individualistic women in her many period and contemporary dramas. Her talent was discovered by Yasujirō Ozu, one of the world's greatest filmmakers, who told Shochiku executives at the time, "She is an exceptional talent who comes along only once in a decade." Ozu cast her as the female lead in his final film An Autumn Afternoon before he died of cancer in 1963. Now at the age of 83, she is as beautiful as ever.

Grace Kelly (Rear Window, High Society, Dial M for Murder)—The literal princess of Hollywood (she retired at 26 to become princess of Monaco), her name said everything about why she was so hot. She carried herself with a grace and elegance you just don't see anymore. Her voice was sultry without being overbearing, and she had the ability to be sweet but suggest a deep sensuality at all times.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Shima Iwashita:

Grace Kelly:

flawlessly beautiful and a literal princess

Her facial structure? Flawless. Her eyes? Stunning. Her hair? Gorgeous. Her style? Immaculate. Every second she’s on screen, she just exudes this elegance and sophistication. It’s no wonder she ended up marrying a prince. But she’s got this mischief in her eyes that is compelling.

She was so elegant, so beautiful and perfect I could cry for real. A fairy disguised as a woman.

the most beautiful of Hitchcock's "icy blondes". elegant, glamorous, she left hollywood to became an actual princess, I mean, COME ON

she's so pretty and refined and elegant! I'm pretty sure taylor swift's blonde hair red lip look is modeled partly after her

She's just so elegant, look at her all dressed up like a Barbie doll in the latest fashions. There's a quiet dignity about her.

Not only was she princess of Monaco she also is Stéphanie de Monaco's mother and yeah, vote for her she's soooo pretty That red dress in Dial M.... hot damn

To me, she is the first and only blonde. She earned it. Paired with Edith Head's costume design she is unstoppable. I dare anyone to watch her as Lisa Carol Fremont in Rear Window and not be completely blown away by her hotness.

SHE IS SO PRETTY AND FASHIONABLE!! Not only that but she has an alluring aura to her in whatever film I've seen her in! Rear Window is just one of my personal favorite films she was in, especially for her costumes in that. And how many actresses can you say was a princess consort in addition to being a famous leading lady?

#grace kelly #shima iwashita #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

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Rook, Ortho: Princess Power

BRUH 💀 Go figure, giving the guy obsessed with beauty two of the least flattering screenshots in his background frames… But hey, his groovy is very different from everyone else’s so far! ^^ Very relaxed and peaceful.

Cbjssbjsjskendb new tidbits about pre-Pomefiore Rook?? He used to cut his own hair with a knife and focused on keeping his bangs out of his line of sight… and he wasn’t as confident about his style (mood). It’s also interesting to know that he started doing ballet on Vil’s recommendation, and that has helped a lot with his posture, working out muscles he doesn’t normally use, and appreciating the art of performances. We love Pomefiore out here breaking gender norms 👊

A Tale as Old as Time.

Rook drew out a longing sigh, gently easing into the quiet of the museum. The soft sound lingered, coiling around his fingers like thread from a spool. It, too, did not wish to part ways with the stunning beauty laid out bare before it.

A fair maiden was framed in shining platinum. Hair black as ebony, lips as red as the rose, and skin as white as snow... Truly, she was the fairest in all the land.

Her graceful frame was folded, kneeling on the forest floor to greet the woodland creatures that had gathered. The pale yellow skirt of her gown spilled out, blue bodice and puff sleeves fitted well by her figure. Her face round and gentle, in spite of the high collar encircling it, crowed by a petite red bow.

Here was pure innocence, a young girl reveling in nature.

“Beauté,” he marveled—to no one in particular, but such beauty warranted verbal acknowledgement.

“It seems that this painting has captured your interest, Rook Hunt-san!” a voice chirped. A neon blue light emanated from the darkness, accompanied by the silver flash of metal.

“Bonjour!” Rook greeted Ortho. "I must confess, I have been enchanted by this particular work of art! The brush strokes, masterful! The composition, immaculate!! The subject—oh, how it makes my heart quiver with nostalgia!! I am a man close to being moved to tears!!”

Ortho curiously glanced at the girl and her animal friends. No strong emotions arose within up from him. Perhaps he did not feel as much, or perhaps Rook felt too much. “Is there a sentimental experience or memory you have related to this painting…?”

“Oui! It is a tale as old as time.” Rook gestured to the snow white young lady. “They say that this maiden was a princess forced to flee from her home country, as a hostile presence threatened her life. She retreated into the woods and found comfort in a humble life there. Her tenacity is most admirable!!”

“Tenacity… That’s the value that Pomefiore was founded on!” Ortho, floating overhead, beamed at Rook. “I understand why you would like that story. It has a good moral that sticks with you.”

“That is the beauty of telling tales! They inspire those who hear of it, ensuring that the spirit of the story is never truly extinguished.” The huntsman’s eyes held a keep glint to them. “Tell me, Ortho-kun. What do you believe makes a princess?”

The boy blinked. A split second, and he had already input the term into an internal search engine, the formal definition loaded up to recite.

“Prin-cess, noun. The daughter of a monarch or wife to a prince. A woman having sovereign power.”

“An efficient, succinct answer!” Rook applauded, his cheer never faltering. “However, my desire is to know your interpretation. In Ortho-kun’s own words, what makes a princess?”

“My own…?” The words stretched, unsure, on his tongue. Ortho hesitated—seeking, processing, and analyzing. Rook’s heartbeat sounded where there was the space for the boy to think.

Then, finally, Ortho spoke.

“From what I’ve observed in movies and books, the princess is a pop culture icon. She’s usually presented as a role model for little girls. Someone who is beautiful, dainty, and composed, wearing a pretty dress and a glittering crown."

A pause. Ortho assessed Rook’s hard-to-read, bright expression.

“… Is that closer to the response you were looking for, Rook Hunt-san?” he asked.

To this, the third year’s lips quirked. “There is no correct or incorrect answer! I was curious to see your perspective. Everyone holds one that differs, lenses of all designs and colors with which to see the world through! You have my most heartfelt thanks for sharing your view with me.”

"Oh, I see! You're collecting data from a variety of sources to compare to a standard." The android (literally) lit up from within. "Let me ask the same back! Rook Hunt-san, what do you think makes a princess?"

"Mon dieu! You've set my own trap upon me," Rook teased.

The Beautiful Queen, the Fair Maiden, Vil, his peers... So many fragments of beauty in his collection. Plucked, collected, hoarded.

He ran a finger along his chin, contemplating. The thoughts assembled like a collage. Ideas taken, cut up, and pasted together into a new, glorious artwork.

"A princess can be many things," Rook declared with certainty. "They are a princess to their very core, even when their power is stripped from them or they are dressed in only ashes and rags. What defines them is not royal heritage or political influence, but the strength of their character, their values and virtues. They are not bound by a singular trait, but are aspirations to all in their own ways."

Ortho's eyes swelled. "Eh...? That's so broad! By your definition, anyone could be a princess—even you or I!”

The huntsman threw his head back and laughed. "Broad it may be, but I am of the opinion that we all have it in us to live up to the title~”

He indicated the woman in the platinum frame. Ortho’s gaze obediently followed. "Even without a kingdom to call her own, she remained kind-hearted rather than turn to cruelty. That is why she was, and always will be, a noble soul. A princess who puts out good into the world.”

“Rook Hunt-san…”

“Ortho-kun!” Rook dramatically extended an arm to him. He was practically sparkling in the dim room. “I, too, endeavor to put out as much beauty as what is gifted to me! That is my one true calling as the Hunter of Love: to not only seek out beauty, but to cultivate and to contribute to it!”

Ortho silently stared. Nii-san did warn me that Rook Hunt-san could be eccentric, but… maybe there’s some meaning to be found in it.

Cutting through the numbers and the formulas that governed him was a fuzzy warmth. Not the familiar jolt of electricity that powered his circuits. It was too wild, too unpredictable.

Something undeniably human.

Ortho let out a giggle. "Hehe. Then you must be a princess too!"

Rook's mouth formed a small "o". Unsubtle surprise—or perhaps purposefully exaggerated. "Me? Whatever makes you think that?"

"Strength of character!" Ortho parroted mischievously. "I've never met someone as uplifting as you are. Rook Hunt-san is the type of person that sees a princess in everyone."

The boy lowered himself to a few centimeters off of the ground, pretending to dip into a curtsey. "Your majesty!"

"Fufufu. You're quite charming yourself, Princess Ortho-kun!" Rook bent into a deep bow. "Most clever in all the land, computing complex problems in the blink of an eye!”

Upon straightening, the third year laid both hands over his heart. He lifted his head toward the painting of the fair maiden in the forest. A serene smile at his lips.

It was as if he was pledging his allegiance, making a vow. A worshipper at the altar to pray.

“May we all live happily ever after,” Rook whispered raptly, “like the princesses of old.”

Forever and ever.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Rook Hunt #Rook birthday takeover #spoilers #something no one asked for #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #Ortho Shroud #I hope y'all notice but Rook was basically describing what makes a Disney 'princess'#since not all of them in the lineup are actually royalty

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captainwans · 1 month

Text

AM ERA PT. II (smau)

— ALEX TURNER

arabella series!

pairing: alex turner x fem! actress! reader

summary: the fans can’t get enough of their relationship and share their thoughts and feelings on the arabella mv, including a “new” discovery on y/n’s side from the comments.

timeline: 2014

note: layout / format by the beautiful @ithinkimokeei <3

masterlist!

Liked by zendaya, yourbestfriend and others

yourinstagram 🤍🖤

ㅤ View all the comments

username babe yourinstagram just posted

username SHES A GODESS

username live love laugh y/n

breanahelders the woman you are 😩😍

yourinstagram you’re my woman 😙

matthelders didn’t know we shared her

breanahelders matthelders babe not now

username matt is so funny i love him

username oh no 🧎🏾‍♀️ what’s happening to me

mileskane looking beautiful love ❤️

yourinstagram ❤️😙

username i was waiting for miles to roast her

username no bc me too 😭😭

yourbestfriend holy mama i’m so gay 😳

officialelizabetholsen so real 😩

username the women in the comments ✨😌💅🏼

username alex doesn’t even have ig and if he had i know he be barking at how hot his gf is 😫

matthelders trust me he is barking

Liked by imsebastianstan, elsapataky and others

yourinstagram a little bts ✨ (📷: wife breana)

ㅤ View all the comments

username my parents looks so hot

username i’m loving this new theme of hers!

username same!! i love how it matches the am

username the mv was so sexy idk if i wanted to look at alex or y/n

yourbestfriend nah i was looking at y/n the whole time who tf is alex?!! 🤨

username and you’re so iconic for that sis

username the content we’re getting lately is just immaculate keep going queen

username literally two of my worlds colliding

username y/n & arctic monkeys fans 🤝

username oh to be arabella

username *to be y/n

username what i also loved about the mv was that they put some clips from the arabella movie

username y/n am era > alex am era

matthelders who said she was YOUR wife?

yourinstagram me, myself & i 😌

breanahelders what she said 🤩 matthelders go get the divorce papers

username LMAO

username IM CACKLING THIS IS SO FUNNY

username this is so gold i love this trio

matthelders i’m telling alex 😡

username um hello is no one gonna talk about them KISSING in the mv??!

username i was literally waiting for that comment!!!

username their kiss is living in my head rent free ✨✨✨🤩🤩🤩🤩

username i still haven’t recovered from that

username forever jealous

username he was kissing me y’all

username sorry boo but that was me

username if alex had ig i would’ve asked him if her lips tasted like the galaxy’s edge

username and if he kissed the color of a constellation falling into place

username and asking him if his days end best when this sunset gets itself

mileskane username he’s sitting beside me and he confirmed that her lips did taste like the galaxy’s edge 😳 🌌

username gripping my hair, sliding against the wall, sobbing, crying, throwing fits—ALEX

username IM SCREAMING MY HEART CANNOT TAKE THIS 😭😭😭

username i love this comment section sm

Liked by officialelizabetholsen, madisonbeer and others

yourinstagram vogue ✨🤍

ㅤ View all the comments

vogue: always a pleasure to have you 💋

username: y/n y/l/n is such an icon.

username: new era new y/n

breanahelders: those LEGS 😫

yourinstagram: open for you ;)

matthelders: can you two take this somewhere else pls 😒

mileskane: dang matthelders you just lost your girl

yourbestfriend: don’t blame him

matthelders: 💀💀 yourbestfriend

matthelders: just signed the divorce papers 😞 i can never win

breanahelders: matthelders babe don’t take this personally it’s not you

yourbestfriend: matthelders it is actually you

matthelders: yourbestfriend you can eat my foot

username: lmao y/bsf/n

username: i can’t with them

username: poor matt 😭😭

username: y/n’s comment section is a comedy show 😭😂

username: i love how breana and y/n are so gay for each other

username: i mean look at them i want them both

username: literally need her so bad 😫

username: HOW MANY LETTERS IN Y/N

username: ugh she’s everything

rosiehw: remind me why you’re not a model? 🤤

yourinstagram: i could never 😫

yourbestfriend: *you could i mean vs 👀

username: lmao yourbestfriend

username: no but seriously

username idk if i wanna be her or be with her

username: ok alex i get it now 😫

username: since no one has mentioned it is anyone else forgetting that i bet you look good on the dance floor was also about y/n

username: context pls

username: wait REALLY? EXPLAIN

username: that’s not true—is it??

username: he confirmed it during an interview years ago why are y’all so clueless

username: but he didn’t mention her name tho?? only that it was a “popular actress”

yourbestfriend: username put two and two together sis 😭

username: lmao do you think y/n knows

yourbestfriend: knowing her dumb ass i don’t think so

username: did y’all forget that y/n filmed a movie back in 2005 in sheffield 👀 yeah

username: there you have it

username: it all makes sense

username: i thought we all knew that 😭

username: in conclusion they were meant to be sorry i don’t make the rules

pinned comment 📌 yourinstagram: how come when i look for any information my only source is you guys (not that i’m complaining tho)

yourbestfriend: bc you’re so so fucking clueless that’s why babe

yourfriend: 😭😭😭

mileskane: how did we go from y/n’s legs to i bet you look good on the dance floor?

username: wtf is going on???

katiee_cook_: i’ve given up at this point

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner imagines #alex turner fic #alex turner fluff #alex turner imagine #alex turner one shot #alex turner fic rec #alex turner series #alex turner fanfic #alex turner arctic monkeys #alex turner x fem! reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner social media au

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doll-elvis · 6 months

Text

PRISCILLA (2023)

~ my thoughts as an elvis fan

(credit to @urpinkstargirl for the photo)

WARNING SPOILERS AHEAD:

so I saw it last night and I’ve been stewing on it ever since as I wanted to be 100% sure in myself before saying this publicly

**brace yourselves**

After just one viewing… I feel confident in saying that I preferred this film over “Elvis” 2022 🤧. It was just so immersive and so deeply intimate that I walked away from the theater feeling like I had just lived a life with Elvis, and experienced all the ugly and wonderful things that came with it

I am seeing it again tonight and possibly tomorrow just to recapture that feeling (which made me cry… three times…)

And although I’m not the biggest fan of Sofia Coppola, there is simply no denying that she has perfected showing “girlhood” in film, and making the most unique experiences, like being Marie Antoinette and being Priscilla Presley, somehow universal to everybody. I haven’t felt being “14” since I was 14, which was a whole 5 years ago, but WHEW… I most definitely felt 14 again when watching Priscilla navigate life in Germany

Also- we all saw how Austin Butler was completely cheated out of an Oscar and so I’m begging that we do not do that again. Give the Oscar to Cailee Spaeny (who played Priscilla) right now 😤 There are no words besides “immaculate” to describe her performance. Her future is so bright as an actress, I just cannot wait to follow her career + she just seems like the sweetest person ever??

And I know it might seem insane to say that I preferred “Priscilla” over “Elvis” and some of y’all might crucify me for that take but my preference solely comes down to the fact that I appreciate Priscilla’s perspective much more so than the Colonel’s, who to me, has always been the least interesting aspect of Elvis’ story

My biggest gripe with having the Colonel narrative/tell Elvis’ life in the 2022 film is the fact that it made the film feel rather impersonal to Elvis as I don’t think the script or the storytelling ever fully allowed for Austin Butler to explore what he was like beyond the stage

And personally speaking, I have a much deeper love for Elvis the person as opposed to Elvis the performer, and I think that “Priscilla” showed the human side of him far more than “Elvis” ever did (like y’all we actually get to hear and see him reading his philosophy books in this!!!)

But before I get into what was actually depicted in film, and all my praises, I thought I would briefly state what I thought could have been done better. Don’t get me wrong, this movie was beyond amazing, however, it was definitely not without its’ faults:

1. If you have seen a lot of reviewers talk negatively about the pacing in this film- just know that they are unfortunately, completely right in that assessment. The whole timeline of Germany felt literally five minutes long, and the 70s also, felt maybe 10 minutes long which just made both the beginning and end feel rather rushed. Also there were at least 5 scenes that just faded to black before going onto the next one, and some very abrupt cuts in scenes which felt a bit awkward

2. Because this is a biopic, and because it’s based on a real life, there is no climax like you would be accustomed to normally in a film and so I think that the average viewer, like someone who may not really care about Priscilla or Elvis, will probably walk away from the film feeling unsatisfied- possibly bored. I saw it with my mom and my sister, and my mom was asleep in like 45 minutes 😭. The movie definitely got repetitive at some points but I acknowledge the fact that life is repetitive, especially for Priscilla in the 60s while Elvis was off making movies

3. While Priscilla (played by Cailee Spaeny) aged realistically and seamlessly, Elvis (played by Jacob Elordi) was essentially the same person (physically) for 95% percent of the film. For some reason, his hair was already dyed black in the Germany scenes, although we know it was brown at that time, and so there was no real transformation for him until Lisa Marie is born. The height of the actor was definitely jarring at first but eventually I got used to it…however…I damn near busted out laughing when they showed him in the Comeback special outfit 💀 His performance was nothing but incredible (ESPECIALLY THE VOICE) and so I learned to get over the physical disparities rather quickly

4. The ending of this film, particularly the song, was overwhelmingly sad and impactful but I was really disappointed that we didn’t get to see Priscilla’s and Elvis’ relationship after the divorce. This film ends with Priscilla leaving Graceland, starting her “new life”, which didn’t make much sense to me considering this movie was adapted from her book, which very much explores that part of her life, especially with Elvis

I would have really love to seen moments like this from Priscilla’s perspective ⬇️

excerpt from “Priscilla, Elvis and me” (avoid this book)

5. NO CIRCLE G RANCH!!! It is borderline criminal to make a film about Priscilla and Elvis and to not include their time spent at Circle G ranch ** which Priscilla has always said were their happiest times together **. I assume that this was likely an issue because of the budget and the fact that they only had 30 days to film but god… I would have really appreciated some of the domestic bliss that Priscilla and Elvis shared while living in the trailer on the ranch. There were many happy moments/sequences (y’all are going to die when you see the rollerblading/go cart scenes) in this movie, but I think their gradual separation/withdrawal from one another (post marriage) would have hit harder if we saw how happy they were together during their ranch phase

6. For those who have read “Elvis and Me”, we all know about the famed LSD scene that takes place and unfortunately, Coppola heavily missed the mark on it. We don’t see Lamar Fike making out with a tree, we don’t see Jerry Schilling in a closet- instead we see Priscilla and Elvis just kind of rolling around, laughing amongst themselves while the room around them turns different colors

There were definitely many key moments/stories like that missing from the film, and I honestly wish that the movie was an hour longer so that we could have seen the book more fully fleshed out

Lastly, here’s just a general synopsis of the scenes in Germany… I was going to do the whole movie but I don’t have the stamina to type it all out 😭. If y’all want to know something specific please feel free to comment below and I will let you know <3!!

After the beginning credits are shown, the film starts with Currie Grant (who was renamed as Terry West) approaching Priscilla in a diner, inviting her to a party at Elvis’ house. After talking with her parents and assuring them that Priscilla will be looked after by him and his wife, it cuts to her in the back of a car, on her way to meet Elvis. The scene is exactly like how it is in the book, Elvis asks her how old she is, he remarks that she is “just a baby” and so on- Elvis then plays “a Whole lotta shakin” at the piano and that is one of three musical performances we see from him

Priscilla is then re-invited by Currie aka Terry via Elvis to comeback to the house again. Elvis invites Priscilla up to his room, she looks around and sees letters from Anita Wood, and a poster of Bridgette Bardot just like in the book. After Elvis talks about Gladys and how he is still reeling over her death, and how lonely he has felt since then, they share their first kiss to the song “Crimson and Clovers”

There are some scenes of Priscilla at school and some scenes of her sort of convincing her parents to let her continue to see Elvis. And they do agree, but just like in the book, they want to meet him first. Elvis is questioned by Priscilla’s father on why he wants to be with her to which Elvis replies that she is very mature for her age and that he likes talking to her since she is from home aka the United States. He then assures Priscilla’s father that she will be taken care of. After that we see them going to the movies where Elvis expresses how much he wants to be a serious actor, and then they share another kiss on the car ride home. It then cuts to Christmas time where we see Elvis giving Priscilla a watch and then BOOM- Elvis and her are on the way to the airport where they say their final goodbyes as he leaves for the United States

The film really does follow closely to the book (at least from 59’ when they meet to 69’- again the 70s were really rushed) and so I really recommended to read that prior to watching the movie

As for the more sensitive scenes-

There is no explicit sex, no graphic nudity, and no scene where Elvis forces himself upon Priscilla. He does say “this is how a real man makes love to his woman” but all he does is kiss her before she pushes him off. There is a rather long “polaroid-taking” sequence where it shows all the outfits that Elvis would Priscilla dress up in but other than that, we only see Elvis and Priscilla make out

And it did show when Elvis accidentally hit Priscilla in the eye during the pillow fight scene in her book, along with the scene of him throwing a chair in her general direction after she expressed she didn’t like a demo of one his songs, and the scene where he grabs all her clothes from the closet and tells her that she should go visit her parents. I don’t think that the scenes made Elvis look abusive: Coppola was surprisingly nuanced in showing that he had reasons for his sometimes bad temperament i.e the pills he took along with the fact that he was frustrated with his film career

It also shows Elvis’ infidelities but really only through movie magazines that Priscilla sees. So it’s never explicitly shown, I would say it’s more hinted at than anything

And there are two scenes of Priscilla with Mike Stone but again, nothing that is explicitly shown, it’s just hinted at

Finally, to finish this up, this is what I wrote on my Instagram account which I very much stand by ⬇️

Just please give this movie a chance y’all, it was so beautiful and so sensitively done… I cannot wait to watch it again <3

#I was not prepared for this movie #cailee and jacob completely floored me #I’m sorry I ever doubted y’all #give everyone an award #wow #priscilla presley #priscilla movie #priscilla 2023 #elvis and priscilla #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis fans #elvis fandom #sofia Coppola #cailee spaeny #jacob elordi #Spotify

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rxgerthatt · 1 year

Text

save me darling, for you are my salvation

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings : 18+/smut/creeps/ no minors!

Summary : you own a cafe. Bucky’s trying to work through his shit.

A/N : two in one day? Aren’t you lucky.

When Bucky met you he was a changed man.

As changed as an ex assassin with a metal arm and superhuman strength could be.

Gone were the days of mission reports and masked, grime slicked faces. No more soviet slugs, no more murdering innocents. I’m James Buchanan Barnes, I’m no longer the Winter Soldier and you are part of my efforts to get my life back together.

Or something like that.

He’d taken up therapy. Once a week for one hour, unpacking decades worth of baggage he kept locked away in the folds of his mind. He’d come to your cafe after every session - 2pm on the dot - and not because the coffee was good.

Nah, he came because of you.

The bright eyed girl. Bouncing hair and gleaming smile. In another life he would have had no issue asking you out, but a hundred years of trauma has an affect on his confidence. You were like a soothing balm over his mind. After an hour of facing demons with gaping mouths, drooling nothing but trauma over his shoulder - seeing your smile made them shrivel into the darkness once more.

“Hey Bucky,” you beam, joyful, full of light and he wonders how you do it. “The usual?”

“Hey,” he sits at the counter. “Please doll.”

You sit your book down, get to work on making him a black coffee - one sugar because he needed the lift up.

You place it in front of him with a grin, “one black with sugar.”

He thanks you, “what you reading today?”

You push your book across the counter, bent corners, pages dog eared and he could tell it was well loved. A Time to Kill.

“You seen the movie?” You ask him, leaning your head in your hands and looking up at him through your lashes and fuck - if he hadn’t dreamed of that in another context.

Bucky shakes his head, takes a sip and watches as you think through what you say next.

“I’ve got it on DVD, you could borrow it or…” you trail off for a moment, before - fuck it. “You could come round? Only if you want.”

Your cute. Cheeks blushed pink, big eyes sparkling and how could he ever say no to you? His candle in the dark, warped reality of his life.

“Tonight?” He finds himself asking.

—

Your apartment is what he expects it to be - immaculate.

A humble one bedroom with eggshell painted walls and dark oak furniture. You open the door to him with a smile, ushering him inside. You’ve laid out snacks - popcorn, chips and these little jelly sweets in colour coordinated bowls.

He watches you as you load up the DVD player. It’s the first time he’s seen you out of uniform, short shorts and oversized graphic tee with these big fluffy slippers that look too big compared to your slender legs.

You have great legs.

“Never expected this to be your kinda film,” Bucky comments as you sit beside him, throwing him a blanket as you wrap yourself in your own.

“I find it best not to judge a book by its cover,” you reply with a smirk. “Who doesn’t love a good crime movie?”

You had a point.

As the movie played on you got closer, until his arm was resting on the sofa above you, two blankets down to one, your back pressed to his side and he was sure it was a good film - but he couldn’t concentrate. He just hoped you didn’t ask any questions about it.

He’d never been this close. To study the curl of your lashes as they kissed the tips of high cheekbones and the soft slope of your nose and the freckle you had just below your ear. You were the prettiest thing he’d ever fucking seen.

You yawn softly as the credits roll. Bucky moves to stand up but you call his name.

“You can take the sofa,” you rub your hands together. “It’s late.”

He nods, feels his heart jump and he doesn’t miss the breath of relief you let out at his acceptance. Maybe you thought he didn’t want you - the furthest thing from the truth - but he knew his exterior was steely - maybe he could let you in.

You bring him pillows, make the sofa look like the comfiest bed in the world and before you retire to your room you kiss his cheek.

“G’night Bucky.”

He leaves before you wake up.

—

Bucky found out he was jealous on a Tuesday afternoon.

He never remembers feeling like this in the 40’s - that green brush of envy as a jock leaned across the counter waffling words he couldn’t hear. You carried on working, humming occasionally but never really listening.

Bucky gets closer and your eyes shift to him, face lighting and you greeted him with that smile that melted his vital organs.

“Hey doll, just the usual please.”

You nod, refusing his money as you get to work on his coffee, and he wonders if the fact you’d never taken a dime from him was a sign you liked him. He hoped it was.

You’re turned away when Bucky catches shit-house in the corner staring openly at your ass - no shame, licking his lips with a smile and Bucky felt the involuntary shift of his metal arm beneath his clothes.

Punk.

“What’s it gonna take babe?” The jock says to you as you turn to clean the counter. You cut a glance in his direction, scowl on your face that Bucky had never seen before because it was so unlike you - his girl with the blazing smile.

“I’m here everyday, won’t you let me take that pretty ass out on a date?” What a gentleman.

You openly bristle, place a bill in front of him with a scowl.

“And I tell you everyday Nathan, I’m not interested in dating,” you respond. “Cash or card?”

Bucky chuckles. He’d never seen that side to you. Fire burning your fingertips, tongue like a whip as you shot his advancements out of the air - bang, bang, bang.

Bullseye.

Nathan finally looks at Bucky then, an icy gaze with stormy blue eyes - enough to scare a cat - not a super soldier.

“You find that funny?” He barks.

Bucky takes a sip of his coffee, grins as he says, “yeah actually, I did.”

As expected, Nathan storms out after paying - men like him have worse bark than bite - and Bucky was well equipped to deal with both. Especially when it came to you.

You sigh, shoulders slumped and you continue to clean. Bucky wonders how often you deal with assholes like that - everyday by the sounds of things. He couldn’t blame a man for trying, you were the most beautiful girl Bucky had ever seen, and he’d been alive for over a century.

“So you’re not interested in dating?” Bucky earns a smile from you, a small chuckle in your throat that still sounds defeated.

You work your arm in circles, counter spotless as you say, “I’m holding out for someone special.”

“Do I know him?” Bucky asks.

“You know him pretty well,” you blush.

—

When he finds out John Walker is Captain America - he goes to you.

He shouldn’t. It’s 3am but he doesn’t know where else to go, saunters the streets and he lands at your door; rapping his knuckles on the wood. Heart on his sleeve, tears brushing his eyes because how could they replace him?

How could they ever replace Steve?

His best friend. His one tie to another life. The only man that deserved the title of Captain America - not some jumped up military man, brainwashed by governments who tell him he’s doing the ‘right thing.’ To see that shield on another man’s arm?

That fucking hurt.

You’re confused when you open the door, groomed by sleep and you’re even prettier when you’re not done up - messy hair, sleep hazed eyes.

“Your neighbour let me in I-“

You move to let him inside, not needing the explanation and Bucky knew he came to the right place. His one solace, his salvation - you.

“Are you okay Bucky?” You ask him and he breaks down.

You hold him as he cries, rub his back with tender hands; his rock against a moving tide. The ocean tried to wash him away but he clung onto you, and his head stayed above water.

He fills in the spots you’ve missed. The parts of his life he wanted to share but was worried they would scare you off. Holy fuck - he wasn’t joking when he said he was 106.

The metal arm mesmerises you. You turn his palm in your hand with a - “I thought you said you had poor circulation?”

You make him laugh. Brew him tea and listen to his queries and you do a better job than Raynor ever could because he just needed someone to hear him, to understand him.

The dark fog lifts with your head on his shoulder, his hand combing through your hair and he apologises for getting you out of your bed. You tell him to shut up.

Nothing else matters when he’s here with you. These fleeting moments where he thinks he could do life like this, a normal life, with you - the girl from the cafe that stopped his heart when he first saw you. You chase away the dark, cocoon him in this blissful period of you and him - that’s all that mattered.

“I’m off tomorrow,” you announce. “You’re welcome to stay.”

“Thank you doll,” he replies.

You take his hand, lead him to your room and it takes him by surprise because it’s a fucking mess and that’s unlike you. You scratch the nape of your neck with a giggle, apologising but he doesn’t know what for.

He sleeps with you tangled around him, the warmth of your body rocking him to a deep slumber; the smell of your hair like a wet finger to a match on his nerves.

Yeah - he could do life like this.

—

You’re the one who kisses him for the first time.

There’s a picnic basket - homemade sandwiches and fresh cream buns on a soft patchwork blanket. The sun pounds on your skin, spot of butter on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb. You giggle and it lights a fire in his stomach that licks its way through his insides.

You’re so close.

Your lips are soft, your smell intoxicating and he needs to remind himself he’s in a fucking park, but it’s hard not to let himself be completely consumed by you.

Bit late for that pal.

There’s a soft hum in your chest that sends signals straight to his mind, makes him light headed and hazy as he strokes a hand across your cheek.

For the first time he feels like a boy. He’s back in Brooklyn and if you’d been alive a hundred years ago he would’ve asked you to marry him because that’s how deep he’d drowned in you. Like a body of water, you flowed in waves. You pulled him into your current until all he could think of was you.

You giggle because he must look starstruck - blushed cheeks and blown out eyes, lips slightly parted because wow - you amazed him.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Bucky says.

“Why didn’t you?” You quirk your head.

“Been out of the game doll,” he chuckles. “Not good with hints.”

“If I said I liked you would that make it easier?” Your eyes sparkle.

“Let’s go back to your apartment.”

You laugh.

—

You’re in his lap, legs spilling across his thighs as you straddle him and Bucky forgets how to breathe.

His hands are everywhere - your hair, your face, up your shirt. Your tits fit perfectly in his hands, but they sit even better on your chest - perked to attention and fuck - they didn’t make them like you in the 40’s.

Maybe you were the reason he survived. All the pain and torture to reach this moment with you. His girl.

You make work of his belt, slip out his cock into your hand before spitting on it. Bucky groans, lets his fingers mess the wetness beneath your panties before you slide onto him with a whine. You move with ease, up and down - Bucky feels like he’s dreaming; mind clouded with lust and all he could feel was you.

“Fuck,” you say when he hits a particularly nice spot deep inside you and he makes a point of rutting up into you to reach it over and over again because he won’t last long. Not with you.

He throws his head back, blows out a breath as he feels the heat starting in his toes. He holds you hip with his metal arm, pounding into you relentless when he feels your legs grow weak and you did so well for him.

You were so good for him.

You fall forward as your pussy squeezes his girth, head on his shoulder and he’s chasing his high before yours is even finished.

You kiss him lovingly, dropping beside him and he pulls a blanket over you. Bucky kisses the top of your head, the sounds of heavy breathing and rapid heart rate battering against his eardrums.

His mind is blank.

“That was…” you drift off.

“Fucking incredible,” he finishes.

—

He brings you roses on your birthday.

Walked miles around town to find the best of the best because you deserve nothing less and he knows that.

He spots you through the window, cleaning a table in the back corner and he has to stop to watch you in this candid moment. He couldn’t believe you would pick him. The fucked up soldier with the fucked up past.

I’m James Buchanan Barnes and I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.

You look up when he walks into the cafe, not shy as you walk towards him, kissing him softly.

“Happy birthday doll.”

You thank him, holding the roses like a new born child and he notices Nathan scowling in the corner as you prepare them in a vase.

“Thought you weren’t into dating?” Nathan spits at you.

You smile at him, before glancing at Bucky with a smirk.

“I’m into older guys.”

Oh - you’d pay for that.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky x you

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tarousbaby · 6 months

Text

I CAN HEAR THE BELLS !

GETOU SUGURU STORY

wedding fever trope!

kinktober day three!

non-con recording, some dirty talk??

masterlist <3

on your big day, your best friend suguru tells you three different reasons why he should be your husband instead and why the runaway bride scenario is just so appealing.

word count: 2637

I CAN HEAR THE BELLS !

your reflection seemed fake, almost. the makeup powdered onto your face meant to make you look happy, and your tittering bridesmaids dresses in different shades of deep red bustling behind you.

nothing could calm your nerves, the raging storm ravaging around inside you.

one of the bridesmaid, some cousin of your arranged husbands, came up behind you and grabbed onto your arm.

“aren’t you excited?” she asked, beaming, “he’s going to be the best husband!”

sure.

he was influential, and you were pretty. your clan was dying, his was thriving. it was all the incentive your family needed to accept the marriage proposal on your behalf.

you hadn’t even been given a second to consider it, and your husband hadn’t been cruel but…you simply didn’t want to marry him.

you were too young, only fresh out of highschool with a good group of friends. you should’ve been partying, exorcizing curses, drinking so hard until you blacked out at the late hours of the morning.

but instead you’d spent the last few months sitting at home doing nothing because according to his clan it was unsightly to do regular adult things.

suguru had been your saving grace, always coming by and watching movies with you or having an at home dinner. he knew how lonely you were, stuck in your apartment more often than not.

you could really use him right now. he always knew what to say, how to calm you down. he was good to you. suguru was wise, careful with his words, knowing exactly what could set you off and calm you down.

behind you, your bridesmaids gushed about how beautiful they all looked. they wouldn’t notice if Suguru stopped by, right? you grab your phone from your purse, scrolling through your contacts before you find suguru’s.

“i need you,” you text him, “could you stop by?”

the response is almost immediate.

“i’ll be there in a second.”

even just by that text, you feel a wave of comfort wash over you. solace from the fact that in one hour, you’d be married.

your eyes raise back to the mirror, staring yourself down in the reflection. you looked like the perfect bride. makeup done immaculately, not a loose strand of hair in place.

your dress was stunning, you would say that much. the white lace and drill against your skin only made your complexion stand out more, enhancing your finer features.

running your hands along the hips, you smooth down the skirt of your dress, trying to make it poof a little less. you couldn’t wait to change into the after party dress, the light-weight red dress that made you stand out less.

that was when you could fade out into the background, become the wife, and let the fame and limelight go to your husband. you could be the pretty housewife he and his family had wanted you to be, even if your hands itched to exorcize a curse.

there’s a knock on the door, quick and cut, as if the person didn’t want to be on the other side too long. you already know who it is, and a bridesmaid is running to open the door before you can even fully turn around.

the girl peaks her head around the corner, murmurings things about how nobody was allowed to see you till the ceremony.

suguru’s voice drawls, “i’m her best friend, i suggest you let me in.”

the girl peaks her head back in, looking to you for clarification to which you simply nod.

meakly, she opens the door, and suguru waltzes in. you notice the way he halts in his tracks upon seeing you, but you’re too busy admiring how he looks.

even if you didn’t like him, your husband had good taste when it came to suits.

it was relatively simple, your average black suit and white undershirt with a red tie. but suguru was never one to be formal. the tucks of his white button up stuck out from underneath his vest, and he had no jacket in sight. his hair was in a loose half-up half-down bun, as it typically is.

his dark eyes sparkle with something unknown, and you feel yourself smiling against your palm.

he takes a few steps forward, taking your hand and kissing the back of your palm with a short bow. “you look beautiful,” he whispers, looking up at you between thick dark eyelashes.

“thank you,” you reply, but you can’t even find the words to describe him.

alluring, lustful, gorgeous.

you could feel the eyes of your bridesmaids as suguru stood up straight, a good amount taller than you, even in your heels.

“what’s wrong?” he asks lowly, trying to block the sound of his voice from the others. you sigh, looping your arm with his and leaning against his bicep.

“everything, i guess? it’s just…i really don’t want to do this, suguru.”

he hums, resting his chin on the crown of your head. “i know. i cant believe this.”

you give a huff, “if you cant believe it, how am i supposed to feel?”

suguru smiles, open and wide, before pressing s soft kiss to the skull of your head. you squirm, hiding further into the fabric of his blouse.

“think i could leave?” you joke, “i’ll be a runaway bride. wonder how much shame that would bring him, huh?”

suguru’s quiet for a very heavy moment, and you turn your head just slightly to look at him in the reflection of the mirror. his eyebrows are furrowed, his lips twisted in a frown.

you consider saying something, but your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. you let out a soft breath, squeezing his arm lightly.

“maybe you don’t have to go through with it…” suguru muttered, “maybe we can go, i can take you. nobody has to know.”

you pull back, apprehension written all over your body language. you don’t quite say no though.

“my parents love you, they’d hide you if his clan started looking for you.”

“suguru,” you say weakly. you couldn’t say no to him. “that’s not a good idea.”

“neither is this,” he points out. his eyes go soft. “just…i can keep you hidden.”

you lean your forehead against his chest.

“give me any valid reason, and i’ll run.”

the words escape you before you can even properly consider what you’re about to do. suguru smiles wide.

“how bout three?”

your bridesmaids stare, straining to hear your quiet conversation.

“anything,” you stress.

“one, you won’t be happy.” he isn’t wrong. you’d be miserable. housewife isn’t the job you wanted in life. you didn’t want to sit at tea with his brothers and cousins wives and talk about mediocre things and how amazing your husbands were.

“two, he doesn’t want you.” suguru wasn’t wrong on that either. he liked your face, and your body, sure but not you. he didn’t like that you enjoyed exorcizing curses. he didn’t like that you enjoyed going out with friends. he didn’t like that you had a life outside of him and his clan.

“three, i do.”

you pulled back so sharply it almost gave you whiplash. the look suguru gave you was akin to amusement, but you could see the careful consideration hidden behind his mask of indifference.

one of the bridesmaids approached, tapping him on the shoulder. “sir, the ceremony just started, i suggest you go take a seat.”

he stutters, before looking back to you. you swallow heavily. “your car is going to leave in five minutes,” you say slowly.

suguru’s never looked happier. he borderline runs out the door, not looking back because he trusted you.

inside your chest, your heart pounded, blood rushing to your cheeks. we’re you really going through with this? you couldn’t back out now.

you turn to your bridesmaids, and smile sheepishly. “i need to use the restroom…” you giggle, “pre-vow nerves, y’know?”

they look for each other, sharing looks and giggles and nods of agreement. you make your way into the attached bathroom and lock the door.

finally, you feel like you can breathe.

you survey the room for a window, finding a relatively sized one behind the toilet. it was a small fit, but it would work. sighing, you close the lid to the toilet and take everything off the back of it as quietly as you could.

fumbling with the locks to the window, you eventually pry it open, but it refuses to stay up on its own.

fighting with it, you take your first steps onto the toilet, leaving your shoes on the tile.

you shimmy through legs first, your feet dangling over warm grass. you struggle to breathe, your chest pushing against the window pane.

eventually you make it out fully, and desperately tug the length of your dress through. you land in a heap of limbs and lace on the dirty grass.

a little dizzy, you look up, not paying any attention to the hundreds of dirt and mud stains now costing your dress. you didn’t buy it, your husbands family did…so.

you hike up the ends of the dress, and run. you know soon enough those bridesmaids are gonna start knocking on the door, assuming they hadn’t already, and tell you that you need to walk down the aisle.

suguru’s car is exactly where you knew it would be.

he’s waiting for you, one arm slung around the passenger seat head rest and the other gripping the wheel.

you pull open the door, jumping in, uncontrollable laughter spilling past your lips. as soon as you’ve gathered up all your dress, you slam the door shut and scream, “drive!”

suguru listens to you, as he always does.

you aren’t sure how far you're driving, but soon the church becomes a far away place, and you end up losing your veil somewhere in the process.

suguru finds an empty car park somewhere close to an unused trail, and parks to take a breath.

he looks to you, his face split with his smile.

you look to him, a matching grin on his face.

you jump him, uncaring for the way your dress tugs and rips as you smash your lips against his. he groans into your open mouth, reaching for your hips and pulling you into his lap.

suguru licks into your mouth, his tongue swiping across your lip, smearing your lipstick and sucking on your tongue.

you whine against his lips, rutting your hips through the fabric of your dress, but getting no friction. suguru chuckles, and grips your waist hard to keep you still.

“ah, not yet. wanna savor this moment. maybe i should take a picture? send it to your bastard of a fiancé, show him what true pleasure looks like on you.”

oh, suguru was mean.

and you loved it.

“please,” you panted, only to be awarded with a harsh bite into your cleavage. he bit hard enough to break skin, a small trickle of red blood leeching down and staining the crystals of your dress bodice.

his tongue lapped at the mark as you hissed, back arching into his touch. more, more, more, your brain chanted.

suguru cared nothing for your dress, clearly, as he reached behind you and ripped the bodice straight in half. you heard the sound of thread snapping and crystals cracking as he threw it’s remains to the passenger seat.

now, he had full access to your boobs, and he didn’t take this lightly.

suguru bit up and down your chest, muttering curses and suppressing groans as you twitched and squealed at every brush of contact his lips made with your puffy nipples, peeking out and begging for attention.

suguru kisses a sweet line down the center of your body, mouthing open sloppy hickeys against your skin.

somewhere in suguru’s car, your phone rang with missed calls and texts. you found yourself giggling despite the ridiculousness of it all. you straighten, squeezing out of your skirt as suguru pushes his seat back. you were naked, save for your underwear and garter belt, a request of your fiance.

you can feel his cock outline straining through his pants, pressing into you, separated by the thin fabric of your clothes. you wiggle your hips slightly, letting his hands roam around your body. eventually, they settled over your stomach, before dipping lower.

he pulls back your garter belt, letting it snap back against your skin with a slap that has you shivering. “your fiance’s a creep,” he comments, but you see the way his eyes glimmer as he tightens it against your thighs, forcing the plush of your skin out.

you struggle to keep your breathing even as his hands lift, pulling down your panties. your stomach churns, anticipation swirling in your chest.

suguru cups your cunt with his palm, his middle finger dipping into your heat and slicking his finger. you whimper, biting down on your lip. sis finger drags up, collecting more of your wetness until he reaches your clit.

he smiles, and gives a few testing circles that have you mewling.

“still a virgin?” he inquires.

softly, you nod, lost in the feeling of his fingers on your clit. one of the things of being married to the future clan head, was that you had to be plenty fertile in order to produce an heir. in the eyes of your husband’s family, if you hadn’t been a virgin, you wouldn’t be fertile enough.

that meant Suguru would be your first. how scandalous.

his fingers speed up on your clit, and you can’t help but roll your hands into his palm, fingers reaching up to toy with your nipples. he presses a soothing kiss to your stomach, and then follows it with a gentle bite.

“faster,” you gasp, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open, “‘m almost there, sugu.”

suguru listens to you, speeding up so fast you almost scream. but then, he rips his fingers away, and the feeling disappears just as quickly.

“no!” you cry, “no! no! no! please, i jus’ wanna cum!”

suguru grabs you by the neck, pressing bruising kisses to your lips as his other hand intertwines your fingers.

“do you really want me to make you cum?” he asks, “tell me, tell me you want me to.”

“i do,” you shriek, “i do!”

your orgasm comes quick, slick pushing out of your pussy as you squeal, hips jerking and twisting. suguru grabs onto your waist, squeezing the plump of your hips and thighs and watching you twitch through the aftershocks.

he leans up, burying his face in your neck.

“feel good, baby?”

“more than good,” you sigh, smiling at him. “way more than good.”

your hands drift down, pressing against his dick. “let me help you…”

he shakes his head, breathing in the smell of your perfume. “no, baby, tonights all about you. gonna make you feel so good.”

you pout, “but i wanna feel you in me.”

suguru looks up at you, grinning almost cruelly as he looks at you. “no, baby, we gotta save that for the honeymoon.”

confusion settles deep in your bones. “huh?” you mumble, tilting your head. he jerks his thumb to the back, where a camera is propped up. the red recording button blinks, and your heart leaps in your chest.

his hand pushes against yours, fingers pressed directly to each other when you felt it. at some point, he’d slipped off your engagement ring with one of his own, a simple silver band glistening on your ring finger where your old stone used to be. in all honesty, you preferred his more.

“you’re evil, suguru,” you grin, and loop your arms around his neck to pull him into a searing kiss, imprinting the memory into your brain.

“only for you, baby.”

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