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#menu writing
i'm begging you guys to start pirating shit from streaming platforms. there are so many websites where you can stream that shit for free, here's a quick HOW TO:
1) Search for: watch TITLE OF WORK free online
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2) Scroll to the bottom of results. Click any of the "Complaint" links
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3) You will be taken to a long list of links that were removed for copyright infringement. Use the 'find' function to search for the name of the show/movie you were originally searching for. You will get something like this (specifics removed because if you love an illegal streaming site you don't post its url on social media)
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4) each of these links is to a website where you can stream shit for free. go to the individual websites and search for your show/movie. you might have to copy-paste a few before you find exactly what you're looking, but the whole process only takes a minute. the speed/quality is usually the same as on netflix/whatever, and they even have subtitles! (make sure to use an adblocker though, these sites are funded by annoying popups)
In conclusion, if you do this often enough you will start recognizing the most dependable websites, and you can just bookmark those instead. (note: this is completely separate from torrenting, which is also a beautiful thing but requires different software and a vpn)
you can also download the media in question (look for a "download" button built into the video window, or use a browser extension such as Video DownloadHelper.)
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shaytizzy · 8 months
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Goals for the week
Complete new account migration
Complete my uni work
Eat some sushi🍣
Take my meds
Look for employment, that pays well
Work on my restaurant concept
Recertify servsafe certification
Pick up my new work gear
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navybrat817 · 1 month
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Just Like That
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky suggests staying in a hotel together before an undercover mission, which would be fine if you didn't have a massive crush on the super soldier. Word Count: Almost 5k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, pining, flirting, slight possessive behavior, talk of undercover mission, "only one bed" trope, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A combination of @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge and my Bucky Barnes Smut Menu, courtesy of @ellemj. "Only One Bed" Trope and the dialogue prompt in bold italics. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The engagement ring on your finger suited you. Not large or overly flashy, the single diamond radiated a subtle sparkle. It was beautiful and a perfect fit, a representation of the unifying love of marriage. When you looked at it under the light, it was almost as if you could feel the love that Bucky had for you.
If only that were the case.
“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” You asked, taking a seat at the table across from Bucky.
“So we can practice and make sure we’re a convincing couple,” he replied.
You sighed as you glanced around the hotel room for the umpteenth time. A small sitting area, a dining and kitchen combination, a single bathroom, and a bedroom. When you pointed out that there was only one bed, Bucky reminded you of the expectation that the two of you had to sleep together while on assignment since you were going on a couple's retreat. Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have a crush on him, right?
Right.
You were completely enamored with Bucky Barnes, the handsome former assassin turned agent for the revamped SHIELD. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.
Just the two of you.
“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”
“What? No. Bucky, you aren't terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty.”
“You're talking to a guy who hasn't been on a real date since the 40s,” he deadpanned.
He had a point. Plus, from what you understood, Bucky wasn't exactly interested in dating anyone. Every time Steve or Natasha suggested he go on a date, he found a way to brush it off or change the subject.
Even if he was interested in dating, did he think of you as anything beyond a colleague?
Taking this assignment may have been a mistake.
“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you said.
“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”
You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a week just to back to being coworkers after?
“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.
He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?��� He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Bucky. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”
You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”
With an exhale, you recited, “We met at a coffee shop. We both ordered the same drink.”
“An iced caramel macchiato,” he said.
“And we reached for the drink at the same time,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”
“And I immediately asked you out,” he smiled.
Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “You did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went to dinner and talked a bit about ourselves. You told me you're a mechanic and I told you I’m a teacher. And once dinner was over, we went back to that same coffee shop and we shared an iced caramel macchiato.”
“Even proposed to you at the same shop,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.
The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.
Not that you had to do any acting on your part.
You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, it just would've been nice if we met at a coffee shop,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.
“What’s wrong with how we met?” He asked, crossing his arms.
The metal arm gleamed under the light. You noticed that he had a tendency to wear long sleeves and gloves whenever he was in the building, but seeing him with his sleeve pushed up and missing glove? You would almost say he was comfortable around you.
Again, he had to play the part right.
You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. “Do you not remember what happened or are you just being nice?” You asked.
Months ago, the day you met Bucky, Steve informed you that he planned to introduce you to him after he came back from a long assignment. Not only were you excited to meet one of his best friends and a great soldier, but you had wanted to make a good impression on him. What you did was make an ass out of yourself when you turned the corner only to smack right into the former Winter Soldier.
And splattered your beverage on both of you in the process.
Instacrush and a horrible impression on your part.
Bucky’s lips curled in a smile as your eyes widened. “You do remember,” you said, wadding up a nearby napkin and tossing it at his face, which he easily caught. “Oh, my God! That’s why you chose ‘coffee shop' for this, didn't you?”
You concentrated so much on getting the backstory right that it didn't occur to you that he was maybe poking fun at you. He wasn't the kind of guy that liked making others feel bad though. Tease you, sure. Outright make fun of you at the risk of hurting your feelings? He would never.
“Hey, I didn't choose how we met, but I also didn't object,” he said, raising his hands in surrender when you went to throw another napkin at him. “And I wouldn't forget meeting you, doll. You make a lasting impression.”
You wished you had done something to make him remember you besides spilling a drink on him. “I guess making an idiot out of myself is a lasting impression,” you teased.
Something dark flashed in his eyes, making your breath hitch. “That’s not what I meant. You didn't make an idiot out of yourself and I don't like you thinking that or talking down about yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, not used to someone getting so defensive at your self-depreciation. There was something sexy and heartwarming about it. “You were very nice about the whole incident.”
“You were nice, too,” he said, gesturing to his torso. “I mean, you offered to buy me a new shirt.”
“Because I spilled my drink on it! I felt bad,” you said.
“And when I said you didn't have to buy me a new shirt, you said, ‘Are you sure I can't pay for the dry cleaning at least, Sergeant Barnes?’” he said in a falsetto voice.
He chuckled when you rolled your eyes. “I don't sound like that, first of all, and I was being considerate,” you said. You couldn't believe he remembered your exact words. “And you just gave me that half confused smile of yours before I grabbed napkins for both of us to clean up.”
“You mean this?” He asked, his lips stretching in that familiar awkward grin.
“Yeah, that,” you giggled, your heart doing that funny flip that happened far too often around him.
In the beginning, whenever you smiled at him, he gave you that very look in return. Somewhere along the way, the uncomfortable glances on his end became genuine fondness. It didn't mean anything though.
Just an agent being kind to another agent.
Bucky stared at you as you continued to giggle at the memory. “I’m sorry. I just-”
“I love your laugh,” he said, almost making you choke on your own breath. Nothing like forgetting how to be a human and breathe. “And your smile.”
Maybe he had switched back into practice mode. “You do?” You asked, playing along as you smiled directly at him.
He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice thick as he unfolded his arms. “You know, you're one of the people that actually smiles at me. And you look me in the eye when you talk to me.”
“Why wouldn't I?”
“Because some people are still afraid of me,” he whispered.
Your heart sank. He was a good man. A hero wrongly painted as a villain. It wasn't fair what he went through and you had no reason to fear him.
Why couldn't everyone else see the good in him?
“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you promised. And after what he went through, frightening people was the last thing he would do. “Never have been. Never will be.”
“Maybe you should be,” he muttered, some of the light leaving his eyes.
Your eyes narrowed as you tempered the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Seeing this vulnerable side of him also brought out your protective instinct. “Listen to me. You’re amazing and a good man, okay? And if I don't get to call myself an idiot for spilling a drink on you, then you don't get to say I should be scared of you, Sergeant Barnes,” you said with an air of finality.
He gave you an impressed smile. “Just like that? Because those are totally different things you're comparing.”
“Just like that,” you said, putting your hand on the table for him to take if he wished. “Do you trust that I'll have your back on this mission? Because I trust that you'll have mine no matter what.”
He stared at your upturned hand for a moment before he took it. “You're one of the only people I do trust,” he admitted.
His eyes bore into yours as you tried to find the words to respond. He wasn’t feeding you a line to make you feel good about yourself. Bucky Barnes trusted you.
“Then trust me when I say we got this,” you promised. You would look out for him and let him know that he hadn’t misplaced his trust in you.
“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.
The switch in topic jarred you, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”
It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.
“I’m curious,” he shrugged.
“Oh. Well. My last boyfriend dumped me for being an agent. Seriously, he didn't like the fact that I could kick his ass if I wanted to,” you told him, squeezing his hand without meaning to. He didn’t object. “Which I wouldn't.”
“You could kick my ass if you wanted to,” he winked. Physically, Bucky was broad and strong. You weren’t sure you could take him in a real fight, but you could take him another way if he ever offered. “And your ex sounds like an asshole if he can’t stand beside and support an amazing woman.”
You smiled humorlessly. “Thanks, Bucky, but I’m not-”
“I swear to fuck if you talk down about yourself again, I will put you over my knee,” he threatened, his eyes darker than they were seconds ago.
You didn’t laugh as he stared at you. Neither did he. Your clothes suddenly felt too heavy, your body too warm. Licking your lips, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Is that a promise?”
Bucky pushed his chair back and pointed at his thigh, his eyes still on you. “Get over here and find out.”
Oh, fuck.
The sound of Bucky’s phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” he muttered, taking his hand from yours. “It’s Steve. I better-”
“Yeah, you should answer that,” you said, almost knocking the chair over as you stood. “I think I'm going to call it a night.”
“Wait, what?” He asked, answering the phone. “Hold on, punk,” he said, covering the screen as he looked at you. “You’re going to bed now?”
Guilt settled in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. “Just going to lay down. I may not go to sleep right away. And we can practice more in the morning,” you replied. You just needed to step out of the room and take a breath.
He waited a beat before he nodded, the tension still lingering. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”
“Okay,” you nodded, leaving him alone so he could talk to Steve.
You splashed a bit of water on your face when you went to the bathroom to change. The assignment hadn’t started and you couldn’t keep your cool. With squinted eyes, you pointed at your reflection and mentally scolded yourself. Yes, you wanted Bucky Barnes and maybe, just maybe, some part of him wanted you. At least, he wanted you enough to put you over his knee.
You couldn't have him though. Could you? Mixing business with pleasure could lead to complications if you crossed that line, but it wasn’t like you’d break some major bylaw by being his girl.
Now wasn’t the time to think about that.
“Get your shit together,” you hissed, rushing through your nighttime routine and changing into your comfortable yet sexy nightgown.
Your eyes went to the bed when you left the bathroom. Just a regular hotel bed. Inviting, but not overly frilly. Large enough for the both of you, but small enough that you might end up in each other’s arms.
“It’s going to be a long night,” you muttered.
Sighing, you left a light on for Bucky to see and crawled into bed, shutting your eyes as he wrapped up his call with Steve. You tried to block out the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom. Maybe his nighttime routine would take a bit longer than you thought and you could drift off and wake up to the sight of his beautiful eyes and-
The bed dipped as Bucky curled up behind you, your eyes opening when he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him. You were conscious of every shift in his body, every breath he took. How you could smell his lingering cologne as he pressed himself closer. How he ran warmer than you and you wanted him to heat you up even though you weren’t cold.
And that he wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt.
“I know you aren’t sleeping,” he whispered, his fingers brushing along the fabric that covered your skin. “Your heart’s beating too fast.”
He was right. It was about ready to burst through your chest. “Can’t sleep.”
“Why not?” He asked, helping you roll over so you were on your back. He didn’t remove his hand though. “Did my ‘threat’ make you uncomfortable?”
“No, it didn't,” you assured him, heat pooling between your legs that you couldn't prevent. “I wouldn't have continued with the banter if I was uncomfortable.”
“Just making sure,” he said. “I was only teasing.”
You huffed out a laugh in an effort to cover up the crushing feeling in your chest, your arousal fading to a dull ache. “Of course, you were,” you uttered. Teasing. Nothing more. “Good night, Bucky,” you said, turning your head away.
He brought a hand to your cheek and brought your face back toward him. How did his eyes look so blue in the faint light? “Don’t go to sleep yet, please.”
“Why not?”
“You rushed to bed and now you're shutting down. I clearly said or did something wrong,” he sighed, which made you feel bad. He hadn't done anything wrong in your eyes since it wasn’t his fault you wanted his teasing to mean something. “I need to fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix because you didn't break anything,” you said, the ring heavy on the finger. “But can I ask for a favor?”
“Of course,” he whispered.
You didn’t dare search out his gaze when you said, “I may need reminders this week that you don't actually have feelings for me.”
A few seconds went by before he asked in a small voice, “What?”
You took a breath to compose yourself. The last thing you needed to do was get upset for no good reason. “We’re going to hold hands and cuddle and share a bed and be a couple, but you may need to give me a reality check now and again that you only see me as an agent. Okay?”
Maybe he’d ask Steve for a new partner in the morning.
“You think I only see you as an agent?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “I used to be good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“Teasing. Flirting,” he answered, leaning in close. He stopped just before his lips touched yours. “Kissing.”
“Wait. You were flirting with me?” you said, not moving forward or back as you put a hand on his chest. His heart raced as fast as yours. And your brain couldn’t compute that implication that he wanted to kiss you. “You weren’t just practicing for the assignment?”
He huffed out a laugh this time. “You’re killing me, doll,” he whispered, closing the distance.
You imagined Bucky kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered.
You never stood a chance.
“So, you like me?” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole week together for this assignment and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”
Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and trusting you.” He chuckled almost shyly as his words sank in. “I took this assignment because of you.”
A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Bucky Barnes liked you. Wanted you. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.
He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.
Like he wanted to own you.
His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.
Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.
You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.
“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”
You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the super soldier was an entirely different level of gorgeous. He towered over even the largest of agents, with the exception of Steve, and his dark lashes framing his steel eyes were enough to pull you under.
And who were you compared to him? Just another agent. Average.
“Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”
The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth.
“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?
He smirked against your skin before he reached down and tore your panties away. “I haven't gone on a date because of you.”
Your body throbbed with need as you met his gaze. “You're just saying that to get in my pants,” you joked.
His eyes raked down your body, stopping between your trembling thighs as he pushed his pants and underwear down. “If I had my way, I would've taken you out first,” he said, drawing a moan from you when he wrapped a hand around his thick cock. “But all I can think about right now is how loud you’ll say my name when I make you come.”
“Bucky,” you moaned, tempted to reach down and touch yourself to the sight of him.
“Louder than that,” he said smugly, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “Fuck, I wanna take my time and explore you. Make you feel like a goddess. Treat you the way you deserve.”
It warmed your heart and sent another wave of desire through you knowing he wanted to take care of you. “I know you'll treat me well,” you smiled, opening your legs wider. “But for now, please, fuck me.”
He didn't ask about birth control, which you were on. You didn't ask about condoms. It didn't matter. You wanted to feel all of him.
You glanced down as he lined himself up, watching as he slowly eased into you. It was overwhelming as you took every inch, your mouth falling open with a moan. You floated in a cloud of lust, the sound of his groan reaching your ears.
“Look at me,” he ordered as he bottomed out.
Your eyes flew to his as he gripped your chin. The feel of him inside you, his eyes staring so intently into yours that he practically touched your soul. It was almost too much. And that was when he began to move, the weight of his body on top of yours as he fucked you in slow and deep thrusts. It was the kind of lovemaking that would make you crave more.
Crave him.
“Knew you'd take me well,” he grunted. You whined, the praise going straight to your core as you tightened around his thick cock. Your walls couldn't stop gripping him as he slid in and out. “Knew your pussy would be greedy for me. Won’t let me go.”
Your head fell back against the pillow, dizzy as he trapped your body under his. As he rolled his hips, you wondered if he’d let you ride him at some point. Maybe he’d fuck up into you as he brought your hips down. Or maybe he’d lay back and cup your breasts, let the weight bounce in his hands as you took all of him.
You’d take whatever he gave you.
The growing pleasure within you was like you were burning from the inside out, each movement from him stoking the flames. His low groans mixed with your whines, his thrusts increasing in speed when he brought his thumb to your clit. Your hand worked its way back into his hair as you cried out his name, your control slipping further and further away as he took over.
“Just like that,” he moaned. “Don’t hold back on me. Wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”
“Bucky, I'm gonna…” you trailed off, your orgasm building fast in your core and ready to burst.
“Come,” he finished for you, a filthy smirk on his face as he laced his fingers with yours.
One more thrust and you were gone, his name falling from your lips as you came. Your mouth stayed open as you spasmed, pleasure rushing from head to toe. You panted and didn't care if you'd ever properly breathe again. That was how good it felt.
“I’m close, doll,” he gritted, resembling a growl as he continued to fuck you and chase his release. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna own you.”
“Come inside me, Bucky,” you begged, watching through half-lidded eyes as his face contorted in ecstasy. It was such an erotic sight. “Please.”
He buried himself deep with a long moan as he filled you in hot, thick spurts, nuzzling his face in your neck when he finished. He said your name as he heavily breathed against your neck and it was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You wrapped your arms around him when he stayed inside you, not at all bothered as your mixed release slowly trickled out.
You didn't want him to let you go.
“Well,” you huffed, a dopey smile on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don't think we’ll have a problem convincing people we care about each other.”
He chuckled, kissing your warm skin. “And we won't have a problem sharing a bed,” he said, keeping you close as you yawned. “Sleep, doll. I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you, too,” you said, feeling him smile against you as you drifted off.
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The delicious ache between your thighs was the second thing you noticed when you woke up. The first, of course, was Bucky’s arm and leg draped over you: warm, protective, perfect. He was still fast asleep, the blanket pooled around his waist, completely at ease with the world. You could get used to waking up like this.
You hesitated before you touched his cheek, not wanting to wake him as you kissed his forehead. You wished you had time to kiss every scar on his body and worship him the way he said he wanted to worship you. The two of you would have to leave the bed sooner or later. There was work to do.
“Mmm. Morning,” he said, his voice laced with sleep as he cracked an eye open.
“Morning,” you whispered, cuddling closer as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed over the ring. The motion made you brush against his crotch and you were close enough to hear the hitch in his breath. You did it again, keeping your gaze innocent as he opened his eyes more and groaned.
Yes, there was work to do, but it was still early.
“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” He teased.
“Yeah, I’m still horny,” you replied. Waking up next to him would arouse anyone. “Need you to fuck me again.”
“You won’t be able to walk if I fuck you again,” he smirked, rolling on top of you and digging his fingers into your waist.
“Should’ve known you’d be a cocky boyfriend,” you teased back, your heart thundering in your chest as he leaned down and skimmed kisses along your jaw. “Sorry, we didn’t put a label on this and there’s still stuff to figure out and the mission and-”
“Hey. Boyfriend, your man, whatever you want to call me, I’m yours,” he cut you off, his mouth drifting to your neck. “And I still owe you a date, got it? You’re my girl. You’re mine.”
“I'm yours,” you gasped when he nipped your skin hard enough to sting, his tongue soothing it after. You were his and he was yours. “So, we're a couple now? Just like that?” You smiled as he worked his way back to your lips.
Bucky answered you with a kiss. “Just like that.”
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I struggled a bit with this one after having to scrap almost 2k and go in another direction, but I ended up falling in love with it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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babe what’s wrong…
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You aren’t drinking your trauma juice 🥺
The OB boys must drink this for breakfast every day and had to quit ingesting it for post-OB therapy/j
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unusedcactus · 7 months
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fuck it pronouns in BIOS
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zepskies · 4 months
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Sample the Menu
Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader
AN: Happy New Year, everyone! 🌟 This was requested by a lovely anon. It’s sort of a sequel to the imagine below. ⤵️
See this imagine for context: Repaying him for a job well done.
Word Count: 550 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only — spiciness and innuendo.
Imagine: Interrupting Ben while he’s cooking.
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The cringeworthy sound of metal clanging on metal woke you up early on a Saturday morning. Though your irritation was soon waylaid by the glorious smell wafting up from the kitchen.
Bacon. It had to be. Mixed with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
You slid out of bed, pulled on one of the shirts discarded on the bedroom floor (likely Ben’s, for how big it was), and freshened up before heading downstairs.
You were greeted to a mouthwatering sight.
An over six-foot tower of a man was taking up your kitchen, all broad shoulders and lean muscle and bed-tousled hair.  
In short, Ben was cooking.
But because he didn’t have to worry about the potential sting of sparked bacon grease, he only wore a pair of sweatpants while scrambling the eggs. Slowly you crept closer, not wanting to disturb his concentration just yet.
He actually seemed to be doing well. Or at least, nothing seemed to be on fire. (A vast improvement from previous attempts.)
Besides the pans of eggs and bacon, there were four slices of bread locked and loaded in the double-decker toaster, a side of butter, and two plates on the counter. The coffee was already done percolating.
Once again, your boyfriend managed to delight and surprise. He’d never cooked for you before. And you could dare to say, not for anyone before. You'd just recently managed to get him to do the dishes without being asked, to say nothing of breaking out the cookware...
There was an enormous mess of bowls, plates, and even a whisk in the sink, but you could deal with that if this was your reward.
A bubbly feeling rose up into your chest, making you smile. You went to him on light feet, sneaking up behind him.
Looping your arms through his and embracing him from behind, you leaned up on your toes and nipped at his bare shoulder. To him, it felt like a mere graze of your teeth.
“Mmm, I love a man at work,” you said.  
“Was wondering how long you were gonna fucking stand there,” Ben said, finally glancing at you over his shoulder. His lips twitched upward at the sight of your grin.
You hugged him tight from behind and pressed a lingering kiss into his neck.
“Breakfast looks good, babe. Thank you,” you said, though your hands drifted down his chest, down his sternum, down to thumb at the stretchy waistband of his pants. “It all looks good.”
A smirk pulled at his lips, though you couldn’t see it.
“Oh yeah?” he said. “Want to sample the menu?”
He felt your smile grow against his skin. “Yeah, I think I do.”
Just as you might’ve started inching that waistband down his hips, and lowering yourself along with it, Ben set down the metal salad spoon he’d been using to mix the eggs and turned in your arms.
He grabbed you by the hips and hauled you up on the counter beside him, hard enough to make the plates clatter. You gasped at the suddenness of it and clung to his arms.
“Ben—”
“Be a good girl and sit pretty for me,” he said. His eyes glinted with a familiar edge of cockiness before they roamed over your bare thighs. His grip brought you right to the edge of the counter, where he spread your legs apart. You allowed it, a tremor of arousal coiling in your belly.
His hand ventured up the inside of your thigh, and his smirk deepened.
It seemed you’d forgone panties entirely this morning. He liked that, along with the blushing smile you now wore, just for him.
“On second thought,” he said, as his fingers brushed the bare seam between your legs. “I think I want a taste.”  
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AN: Hopefully the real food doesn't get cold. 😅
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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SB Tag List (Part 1):
@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk
@midnightmadwoman @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken
@deanfreakingwinchester @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester
@tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @lacilou
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kod-lyoko · 9 months
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first version of the charden dating simulator game is out now and available to play on web (if you use a desktop you have to make it fullscreen)
have fun!!
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fatalitysficbakery · 14 days
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𓆰♡︎𓆪 NEVER Trust The Love Interest. —
Samantha Carpenter x Black Fem!Y/n
genre: angst | fluff | SMUT.
warnings: listen to 'What a wonderful world' by Louis Armstrong while reading, ghostface!sam, sub!sam, soft dom!y/n, praise, oral (reader giving), slight!fingering, soft ‘reuinited’ smut, sub worship.
synopsis: legacies make franchises.
↳ 𓆰 Fatalitysficbakery navigation menu 𓆪.
↳ 𓆰 Fatalitysficbakery multifandomed &&’ oc menu #2 𓆪.
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❦ ⌫ ❦
An unsettling silence plagued the halls, so quiet you could hear a mouse squeak, but who could blame anyone in the complex for leaving after what had happened in only two weeks.
Nobody wanted to believe it was happening again until the bodies in the morgue began to pile up, and the first mask was found next to the third victim, it was almost a taunt. No...A greeting.
Ghostface was back in business.
The Carpenter sisters were on immediate alert, but it didn't take long for someone to throw a big party, the perfect opportunity for new victims, and for some unknown fucking reason no one seemed to be concerned with the outcome that Samantha and Tara could sense a mile away like clockwork.
Tara stayed home, luckily. But that's not who Sam was worrying about right now as her phone went to voicemail for the 20th time that night, Sam was quick to grab her keys. There were many ways this could go south but with her being radio silent? Sam couldn't care less about the consequences than the idiots that had willingly gone despite the risks. On her way out the door, she texts Chad, Tara, and Mindy to warn them of her whereabouts, gun holstered and knife in her boots.
Never too armed. There was a mace and taser in her purse for backup.
𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎
The scene was a bloodbath, the moment you entered the place there were bodies and puddles of red as far as the eye could see and Samantha was quick to unholster the gun resting on her hip, there wasn't a lot she was afraid of anymore, hell blood had become so normal to her, she stepped over the bodies like they weren't there.
If anything everything in sight had become invisible to her eyes, her thoughts solely on the one person she was hellbent on saving, on protecting. Nearing the staircase, she hears distant voices, and murmurs.
'C'mon, Y/n. Not today.'
Rounding the corner, her heart nearly beat out of her chest when the voices only got louder just for to realize.
'I see trees of green, red roses too..'
She grunts a hiss of air out when her eyes land on an old stereo. With her jaw set, she pushes on, determination filling her gaze like it had only done when Tara was the one who needed her protection. Her head cocking slightly to the side when a new gaze meets hers; pointing the gun directly between the males eyes, she crouches next to the figure.
"Travis. Where's Y/n?" She asked quietly, the sight of her bestfriends boyfriend hidden in the same room she'd gone into putting her on high alert. There was blood on his collar. She scoffs when he doesn't answer. "Trav, c'mon. I need to find her. Keep her safe, that's what you want, no?"
Travis trembles from his spot on the floor, and Sam spots a puddle forming beneath him. The empathy in her eyes left just as fast as it had come, eyes moving down his neck to his hands; Bloodied.
Sam clicks her tongue, standing up from her spot next to him.
"Or at least, that's...that's what you should want, Travis. I mean look at you, lying in wait while your girlfriend gets possibly murdered. Jesus...That's cold-hearted."
Travis squirms from his spot on the floor, eyes frantic and body trembling like a fish out of water. Samantha just watches as he grows more inconsolable, attention on him only diverting when she turns to find a cloaked figure.
Stu's mask on their face.
𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎
Samantha barely manages to dodge the knife aiming for her abdomen, stepping out of the way at the last minute, her movements fluid and clean as she does like it's a choreographed dance she'd obsessively learned the steps to.
Her strangely calm demeanor shifts slightly when she looks back at Travis, who only seems...confused.
"You really are a little bitch, Travis. That's what's sad. You date a close friend of a Carpenter sister...but you never thought twice, did you? Don’t you know the rules?"
Holstering her gun, she sighed and kneeled down next to the bed while the cloaked killer worked on dragging Travis to the middle of the room, both his kneecaps had been shot out, rendering the poor thing immobile and utterly useless.
Her fingers brushed against the mask, a shudder running down her spine at the feel of sheer power beneath her thumbs, a legacy she was tired of running from, one she'd been so desperate to get rid of. One that she was now even more hellbent and desperate on keeping alive.
'Do it, Sam. Put it on. You've earned this' Billy's voice plays in her head like an echoing cave, and with every fear the old Samantha held in her heart of hearts...She uses it to drive her; Billy's knife in her boot and his mask in her hand.
Her lips quiver the moment she bites the bullet and puts it on again, this time...to be used as her father intended it to.
'Atta girl, Sammy. Now. Do me proud, kid. Flood this fucking town RED!'
"Sam."
A voice cuts through the hallucinations, snapping Sam out of her stupor, she looks up at the cloaked figure standing over Travis, nodding to herself; a confirmation to herself that there was no going back after this. Standing up, she takes her spot next to the person in Stu's mask, cutting on the voice changer, she feels a spark traveling down her spine, breathing it all in.
Samantha Carpenter meets Samantha Loomis.
"There are rules, Travis. And you broke one of the biggest. Now the sad thing is...I can see it in your eyes. Shifty. Maybe I was wrong, maybe you do wanna save Y/n. Is that what you want? To save her?"
The tears that gathered in his eyes bring a smile to Samantha's face from underneath her mask, neck craning to the side, her eyes meeting her partners just as Travis finally whimpers out a pathetic pleading "Yes".
"You wanna tell him? You do the honors."
Stepping back, Samantha allows them to the front, their voice disguised as well when speaking, a crackling robotic tone sounding through. "It'd be my pleasure. I've really been waiting all night for this."
Dragging his body to a sitting position, they go to lock the door, the radio being turned up just a tad louder to drown out the incessant whimpering, squatted beside him now, they slowly begin removing the plastic Halloween mask.
Travis's eyes widen the moment he's aware of what's underneath.
The tears, oh how they freely fall down the apples of his cheeks.
❦ ⌫ ❦
The radio, it repeats, and it repeats, keeping time with his rapid heartbeats. She straddles his lap, knife grazing his skin, forcing him to look in his eyes.
The tears, oh how they freely fall down the apples of his cheeks.
'I see trees of green, red roses too...I see them bloom for...'
"Y/n." He breathes out shakily.
'Me and you.'
With the voice changer resting underneath her lips, her knife, she nods, pulling a gun. Stu's berretta, from her pocket, whistling quietly.
"And I think to myself..." She leans in closer, a soft smirk curving onto her lips, "What a wonderful world. Hi baby. You know what this is right? Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you. We're just talking, right? Just talking. Don't cry."
Samantha's jaw sets watching the scene, her body itching for a kill. Specifically this one.
"What is this? Huh?" She repeats, waving the beretta at him like a nice greeting, or in this case, maybe a solemn goodbye.
"The...The gun you shot me with? I-I don't know, Y/n please...W-why?"
"I'm getting there. Patience. I mean, you're not wrong. I did shoot you with it, but you know...I also shot that bitch you were cheating with. Junie? Her favorite scary movie was weak. The nun. Ugh. No. This? is Stu Macher's gun."
"J-junie's dead?"
"As a bitch, Travis. As a fucking bitch. You know, Sammy's right. You did break a rule. Two actually."
"One, you cheated and told Mindy of all people. My sister, really? You never could handle your fucking liquor." Rising up, she points the gun at his thigh and pulls the trigger, relishing the way his screams align with the music. "You trusted the love interest. Sammy?"
'I see skies of blue and clouds of white...'
On cue, Samantha walks ahead of Y/n, kissing her cheek as she does so, Billy's knife tightly gripped in her hand.
'The bright blessed day...The dark sacred night...'
"I guess you're even, Trav. I mean, she was cheating on you too. Bestfriend? You could say we're close. The only problem is..." Samantha drops down into his lap, but there's nothing erotic about the plans she has for him, her knife to his neck; she removes the old mask, a shit-eating grin on her face, "Only one of you cheated with a goddamned Loomis."
'And I think to myself...'
Without a second word, his throat is slit, and she blacks out. His body riddled with stab wounds when it was all over she could hear Y/n's heeled boots against the floor, looking back to see Stu's berretta pointed at Travis's head though he'd taken his last breath seconds before; smoothly Samantha rolled out of the way, allowing Y/n to deliver a swift shot to the head.
'What a wonderful world...'
𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎
After all was said and done, Y/n leaned her forehead against Samantha's taking a deep breath at the next steps, her eyes staring deeply into hers, "I'm ready."
"Baby, we...we don't gotta." Sam reasons, but she shakes her head, a bittersweet smile spread across her cheeks, she whispers to Sam, eyes glossed over with tears. "I won't die. I'll be fine. It's for you, I'll do it for you."
"Are you sure? Completely?"
"Completely."
There's a replica knife, one of Billy's that Y/n had crafted herself, one she'd stabbed Junie with before shooting her, one she'd stabbed Samantha's ex-boyfriend with, and you know the people that came to the party, it was easy to do so when not many dared to arrive due to the restart of the killings and being the only one with a gun helped too, of course.
She passes it into Samantha's gloved hand.
"Do it. And after you do it, I need you to go. Okay? Go, and don't call me. I will call you. Understood?"
"Understood." Samantha takes a deep breath. It had been all too effortless to kill Travis, to kill Gale but the thought of hurting you only slightly was one she hated.
"Now, Sam, NO- AH, FUCK!" As soon as Y/n cries out, she's pulled into Samantha's arms, careful to mind the abdomen wound she'd just given her girlfriend, shushing the poor thing.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...Shh. Shh, I got you."
As much as Y/n wants to hold on tighter, she just whispers one word in Samantha's ear, sliding off her cloak and handing it to Samantha to get rid of. "Go."
Samantha nodded, pecking Y/n's lips before grabbing the cloak and ducking out of the backdoor they stood by, leaving Y/n to call the police, though she didn't know just how far Y/n would go to protect her until she heard a pained yell inside and a gunshot and as if she could sense Sam's concern, another "GO" is yelled out from inside.
Sam goes.
𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎
"She's gone, Sam. She's gone. There's no true love for a Loomis, remember your true love. Pick up the knife, Sammy." His voice grows increasingly aggressive, brows knitted together waving the infamous dagger in front of my face, like bone to dog and it almost physically hurts to not reach my hands out, wrap my fingers around the handle -- Let the electricity liven me.
Her being mentioned is the only thing that breaks my attention away, and I can see his face fall into something blank when he realizes I wasn't budging on my stance, it isn't until I wake up with a jolt, looking at the clock and very predictably my phone, itching to see if she'd called or messaged.
She hadn't.
It wasn't until that afternoon that I heard from her, waiting with bated breaths to see if she was still breathing, if we'd gone too far and she was a part of the carnage, the gunshot still rang fresh as day in my head, her voice the only thing to cut through the thoughts, through my father's taunting. I could hear him now, there was no love to be truly had regarding what we were, but I refused to let him be right. Not when it came to her.
"Spare key. Earth to my beautiful girlfriend?"
I think my jaw goes slack, my lips slightly parting themselves and I'm almost in denial. I'd almost let my father ruin love for me, and though I hadn't budged, that moment of dread I felt when I considered the possibility of her having died ran so deeply that it was almost like seeing a ghost when she's finally within a foot or two in front of me, that familiar cheeky smile stretching from ear to ear.
God, she's as beautiful as I remember and though it's only been a mere half a day apart I find myself scanning her from head to toe, analyzing and trying to scope out if any of the little details that she was made up of had changed; To my relief, the only things out of place are the stab wound near her side, and the cast on her wrist which must've been the beretta's doing.
Other than that...It was her, it was my lady that stood in front of me.
"Oh thank fuck. You're alive." Samantha's hands find my waist so naturally it feels like it's instinct for her, to pull me into an embrace without the slightest thought to it. I can feel her body shudder, eyes pricking with tears; She squeezes me so tight I have to tap her a few times to let her know her hold is a bit too strong, and even then she seems reluctant, as if I've just dealt her a...disrespectful request.
"Not for long if you keep squeezing me like this, sweetheart. I shot myself in the arm, hit nothin' vital. Again there's nothing I wouldn't do to see you get out of this without being caught. Best damn Ghostface there ever was. Y'know that right?" I can't stop staring, though I'd never been able to, not since we'd been friends. Sleepovers almost always ended with us talking about everything and nothing while staring into one another's eyes until the moon made way for the sun.
She nods, but I can tell she's wary and I take no time to bring her into my arms, brushing her hair from her face, a small whisper of a "Hey" spoken through the silence to hush her worries. "I'm alive, okay? Wouldn't leave my favorite girl alone."
"You could've been seriously hurt." Sam nuzzles herself against me, arms gripping around my waist protectively as if she thought I might disappear into thin air.
"But I didn't and if I did? It would've been damn worth it, I don't regret a damn thing." I'm sure of this, I know it to be true. I bring my hand up to her cheek, keeping it there until I'm sure she trusts that it's real, that she's real. I hear her chuckle but there's zero humor behind the sound, it breaks my heart to see her so scared when she whimpers, letting go and allowing herself to be picked up and carried upstairs to her bedroom relenting like she'd never hesitated.
We climb the stairs in a comfortable yet tense silence, making our way to Sam's bedroom. I push the door open with my foot and gently kick it closed all the same.
"Do you trust me?" I ask, sitting her on the bed and coming to take place between her legs, hands cupping her face. I tilt her chin up to look directly into her chocolate-brown gaze.
It's a brief moment before I hear her voice again, I forget myself within one smooth motion, my right hand moving to her lips and a kiss pressed upon the back and if that isn't enough, her words press their own soft kisses to my ears. "I think you might be the only one aside from my sister that I trust right now, Y/n."
Lying her back on the bed, I feel myself aching in ways no one has ever made me ache and I hadn't even touched her yet. She was just that good. I chased the high every time. "Then let me take care of you."
Standing over her, I reached for the hem of her shorts, only hesitating on my movements just to gauge her reactions and make sure this was okay. She had this look that could get her anything she ever wanted and when she flashed it at me I knew to do exactly that.
Those pretty little eyes of hers, she gave me that stare and I was turned a slave for her love, she had me in only one night and she still had me now.
She was always so reluctant to be vulnerable, to allow herself something so human. No one could blame her, she'd gone through a lot to get here. I see it in her though. That fighter. — She still deserved to let those defenses down every now and then and I was more than honored that I'd become trusted with such realities in which Sam just got to be Sam.
"I gotta hear you before I go any further, baby. Speak up for me?"
The poor thing's words must've been caught in her throat for a second or two but I allowed her the chance to gather herself before my lips were on her inner thigh, I swear I did but I know that if I were a lesser woman my self-control would've been stripped the before she uttered a damn word. "Just...touch me."
Now that I didn't need to be told twice.
I think one of the most fascinating things about Samantha is her power to seduce and addict, and she had me absolutely sprung. My lips ghost over her thighs before actually meeting the skin. Call me slow but I loved seeing her reactions and keeping myself between her legs at all times, letting her know how appreciated she truly was.
She looks down at me, her abs taut as I bring up the tank top she's wearing, exposing her muscled physique to my hungry eyes. That dark hooded stare is intense on me, and it's a damn shame she has to work tomorrow. I'd be here all night if I could.
My lips had wandered everywhere, neglecting Samantha and themselves while straying away from its intended target until finally, we'd both had enough. She lets out a frustrated whine and I'm too far gone to keep denying myself so I settle our collective woes when I wrap my lips around her bud, her body flinching only to end up running further into my tongue. One hand gripping her thigh in a firm hold.
I bury myself within the temple that is Samantha Carpenter's body, her slick coating my lips, my cheeks, my nose. Drowning in the scent and taste of her all I feel is a simple man's greed. Right now I am that simple man, and I have only one thing on my mind.
Making her sing. I always told her she had a beautiful voice.
Her moans egg me on, legs hoisted up on my shoulders. Her gaze is still locked in on me heavy, and when I pull away for air I can see a small hint of disappointment. "You seem disappointed. Have I disappointed you, my love? Don't be afraid. Speak your mind."
"You're an assho-" I shush her with my lips, giving her a taste of the liquid heaven that rests between her thighs, a moan slips out of those beautiful lips and the sound gets me high. I pull back, my mind back in that simple man's place as I lower myself back between her thighs. My tongue finds her slit and runs the length, revelling in the way she shudders each time.
Once upon a time, I told her my favorite thing was making out with her. I didn't clarify that I meant that in every sense of the word my mouth engaged in a heated makeout session with Sam's cunt. I'm not ashamed to admit it but after the night I had that ended with my arm in a sling, this felt like a reward. I'd gotten to the finish line. My prize was in front of me, and I was happy to take it. More than.
It wasn't long before I recognized those telltale signs that meant she was close to climax. The way her eyebrows knitted and she bit down on her lip harshly trying not to show just how good she was feeling, as she attempted to keep some semblance of that signature Samantha stubbornness; She failed miserably again and again. It was amusing to watch, and I was more than willing to...but granting her the serenity of hiding in the end was something that was completely off the table.
I let two of my fingers graze the edge of her hole, eyeing her reaction when I plunge the two deeply into her pretty pussy. If I wasn't so occupied I think I could've smirked a little.
The reaction this garner is as precious as it is delicious. Her legs squeezed themselves around my neck, her hands gripping the sheets and her back arched, eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm wracked through her body.
Her taste is something I couldn't quit if I tried, and I had no intention to. No, in fact, I locked my lips around her, fingers pumping in and out with her cum coating my tongue. Every little drip came from paradise and god was it heavenly.
And listen to that melody in which she sings my name.
"Y/n...B-baby, I can't-"
Fucking beautiful.
𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎
"Do you think we could ever live a normal life?" She asks while her girlfriend lathers her hair up with shampoo, sitting behind her in the clawfoot bathtub. She can still see flashes of the carnage they left behind and she wonders just how much of her father she'd absorbed from the real-life cases to the movies her friends liked to binge repeatedly, and now she was continuing his legacy. A killer.
Y/n can practically see the overthinking inner battle Sam is having, and she immediately stops her movements. She pulls her in, one arm wrapped securely around her waist and the other tilting her head up to face her. She presses a brief but sweet, gentle kiss to her lips. Her forehead is against Sam's when they pull away.
"I'm gonna be honest, my love. I don't know. But what I do know is that I'm damn well gonna fight for one for us. Do you hear me? I want you to fight too. I...need you to fight too."
Her voice cracks on her last words until she feels two hands grabbing hers. Sam's eyes move over her and it's like she's falling in love with her girlfriend all over again. "Hey. I never said I was giving up."
Y/n stops in her tracks, taking a deep breath and nodding in agreement. "You didn't..."
Sam shakes her head, a smile slowly crawling onto her lips. She leans in to kiss Y/n again, head back against hers. "I didn't."
𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎
A/N: Listened to Fiona Apple and Cowboy Carter high while I wrote this. 10/10 would recommend.
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lipstickchainsaw · 5 months
Text
The Pristine Blade
I've played a whole lot more of Slay the Princess, and it is excellent, but I've been wondering, why the 'Pristine Blade'?
Obviously it represents the power you have over the Princess in the dynamic, and how that dynamic develops over the chapters depending on your relationship to that power (see the achievement you get for handing the Blade to the Witch: Past Life Gambit, Hand your power to a suspicious character), but why a Pristine Blade?
Most of the voices are happy to call it a knife, or a dagger, or whatever else, or even ask for different weapons, but the Narrator is insistent on calling it the Pristine Blade, every time, which does make sense. It is one of the few constants in these scenarios, next to you, the Hero, the Princess, the Woods (most of the time), and the Cabin. As with those others, it was made fit for purpose by the Creator, perhaps with some details filled in by the Long Quiet's conceptions of reality (one aspect sure is, but we'll get to that).
What is the Pristine Blade?
For this, I'm going back to my Otherverse roots (hi, StP fans, read Pact and Pale), and analysing this as an Implement, which is what the Narrator explicitly refers to it as.
First off, it is a knife. Knives have purposes beyond enacting violence, but this particular one is a knife made for killing, there can be no doubt about that. You can still use it for other purposes, of course (like cutting the Thorn free), but showing up with it still marks you as a killer (and the Princess responds as such).
Secondly, it's small, which means it can, in fact, be hidden. The Opportunist is the only voice to consider this, but it is an important aspect, since it has its effects on you even if not showing it visibly.
Thirdly, it's small. This means that, to do its job, you need to get close and personal. You cannot keep your distance (which is why several voices wish you had something better) and, while it's suggested, in the Nightmare route, that you can throw it, in practice, the Paranoid can only do so much to keep your body functioning, and that kind of dexterity isn't part of it.
This makes it an intimate weapon, which sure is fitting for the dynamic between you and the Princess. Every time you use it, or choose not to, you are saying something about this relationship, and influencing how you both develop in the wake of the cycle of violence and revenge it enables.
But that doesn't explain the insistent terminology.
Why 'Pristine'?
The Pristine Blade is something implanted into the Construct by the Creator, it exists in every reality, and every iteration of the Narrator expects it to be in the Cabin even when it isn't, and every time, it is Pristine.
It is always perfect, almost the platonic ideal of a dagger, cutting through anything except the Razor (including bone!) with ease and it, too, is temporaly 'sticky'.
When you move from one chapter to the next, the scenario the Construct is running resets, except for you and the Hero (and whatever other voice you've picked up), the Princess (and the changes wrought upon her), and the Pristine Blade. And the Pristine Blade, too, remembers what happened, where it's supposed to be:
If you died with it in hand, or having it forcibly taken from you, it will be right where the Narrator expects it to be in the chapter after, but if you gave it to the Princess, either by actually giving it to her, like in the Witch route, or having it fulfill its purpose by stabbing her heart (and boy, there's a metaphor), it will be with her in the chapter after.
But even if the scenario itself states ages have past, the Pristine Blade is still that, Pristine.
Because it is unchanging. It will never be anything other than Pristine. It is, in some sense, stagnant, a constant. In short, it is the Long Quiet's weapon.
The Long Quiet's Weapon
The Long Quiet was created to slay the Shifting Mound, to end death, by putting a stop to change, transformation in all sense, and thereby ridding the world of doom, of the cycle of life and death.
And the weapon to do this is the platonic ideal of intimate violence. A constant, never changing, in this relationship.
Yes, in part this is because the Shifting Mound and the Long Quiet were once one, and their split wasn't perfect, so each carries a kernel of the other within themselves, but how delightfully ironic for stagnant violence to be the thing intended to destroy change in order to kill death. What a perfect encapsulation of the futility of the Creator's mission.
In the final confrontation, the Shifting Mound tries to convince you to join her by pointing out how you are both so familiar with the cycle of violence and revenge, and clearly this means she's speaking your language, and maybe she is.
But she doesn't have to be, because at almost every juncture, you could choose to leave the Pristine Blade behind, or wield it not to be violent. And every time you choose to leave the cycle of violence and revenge behind, to choose not to have power over the Princess, or at least use it with respect to her, it changes things, and it changes them for the better.
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banjjakz · 4 months
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final girl: jjk visualkei idol!au x stan!f!reader
author's note: this is a choose-your-own-adventure PWP series. each route will have its own host of chapter-specific warnings, but some general series-wide content advisories include: sex, obsession, stalking, elements of horror, codependent/unhealthy relationships, imbalanced power dynamics, erotic descriptions of death, etc etc
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main menu
> prologue > game library > guide > home > route selection > help request form
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shaytizzy · 8 months
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I got so much work to do
But I got a job interview tomorrow for my first choice!
19 dollars an hour
Better then stepping on your dick
I'm also working on a girlfriend application
and my restaurant concept. It's on paper. I need a name for it.
anyone that can help with these things let me know. I'm around here you know.
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navybrat817 · 3 months
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Soak in the Tub
Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You want to relax in the bathtub with Bucky. He wants to make you feel good.
Word Count: Over 1.9k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, fingering, implied unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: My first Bucky Barnes Smut Menu fic of 2024, courtesy of @ellemj, and it belongs to Stud and Smartie, thanks to a sweet nonnie's inspiration. Crossing off roommate and fingering. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“Take a bath with me, Stud.”
Bucky sat in his chair with a book in hand as you walked by in your robe. You glanced behind you just in time to see him look up from the page and sweep his gaze over your body. “Was that a request or an order?” He asked, placing the bookmark in-between the pages.
You raised an eyebrow as you turned back toward him. “Let’s call it an order in the form of a request,” you teased, putting a hand on your hip when he pretended to consider it. “Come on. Please?”
It was a quiet afternoon and the two of you had nowhere to be. As much as you didn't want to interrupt his reading, you finished the puzzle you were working on earlier and wanted just a bit of attention. Not much, but some.
And as soon as you finished soaking in the tub, he could go right back to reading.
He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “And why are you heading toward my bathroom and not yours?”
You loosened the tie on your robe enough to expose some of your skin, your heart pounding against your ribcage when his eyes followed the motion. You both knew he was going to join you. “Because your bathroom has the bigger tub,” you reminded him. It was only fair that he got the luxurious bathtub since the apartment was his long before you moved in. “And we both know you love the oil I use.”
“That’s our little secret, Smartie.” Bucky set the book aside and pushed himself to his feet. It was your turn to stare as he stretched, the bottom of his shirt riding up to expose the top of his underwear and just enough of his chiseled abs that your brain began to shut down and reboot. “Should I take my shirt off for you so you can see more of me?”
Fucking duh.
You blinked rapidly and felt your cheeks heat up when he smirked, but you refused to feel shame that he caught you staring. You had every right to look at the gorgeous specimen that was your roommate and lover. Considering he looked at you as if he could swallow you whole at any given moment, it was only fair to return the favor.
“I want you to take everything off. I’ll start,” you said, taking a breath before you pushed the robe from your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
As it pooled at your feet, you saw nothing but love and desire in his azure eyes. “Fuck,” he whispered, your confidence soaring when you heard his metal fingers curl.
You fought the urge to grip his long hair and drag him in for a deep kiss. If you did, you wouldn't make it to the bathtub and you really wanted a soak. “You can join me when you pick your jaw up off the floor,” you smiled, turning and walking away with a sway of your hips.
You exhaled when you got to his bathroom, your legs a little wobbly and an ache growing between your legs. It wouldn't be long until Bucky joined you, so you went right to the tub and turned the water on. You tested it with your fingers before you added the oil, inhaling the scent with a hum.
“Took me a minute to pick my jaw up,” Bucky said from behind you as you straightened up and spun around. “You're just too beautiful.”
You somehow managed not to preen from his compliment or collapse when you stared his muscular chest and abdomen, his clothes long gone. You took an extra second to admire the naked man in front of you. He heard from you more than once that he had the body of a god, one to worship and die for. His thick cock only made your knees weaken more as you glanced down.
Fuck, I want it in my pussy. In my mouth. Just give it to me.
But beneath the gorgeous package, Bucky was stunning because he was the best man you knew. No one affected you the way he did. You suspected no matter how long you were together that it would always be that way.
“So, you had me slack jawed and now I render you speechless,” he winked, brushing his body against yours as he moved close to the tub. “We’re quite the pair.”
“Yeah, we are,” you smiled, your heart swelling before he turned and gave you a chance to check out his backside.
Would he fault me if I bit one of his cheeks?
Bucky stepped into the tub with a sigh and slowly sank down, nodding for you to join him as he spread his massive thighs. You let out a moan of appreciation as you got in and sat down between his legs. As large as he was, there was enough space that the two of you could relax together.
Whatever home the two of you eventually moved into or had built would have to have a nice soaker tub.
“We really are quite the pair,” he told you, bringing another smile to your face. “I’m keeping you forever.”
And ever.
“I’m keeping you, too.”
As he wrapped his arms around you to pull you back against him, you were happy to sit there in comfortable silence. You cherished the conversations you had, but also adored the moments like this when you said nothing at all. Where you could just hold each other and feel secure and connected.
That's love.
Bucky used his foot to turn the water once it was high enough and put some soap in the nearby washcloth, drawing a gasp from you when he brought it to your inner thigh.
“You do know I can wash myself,” you teased, but didn't stop him from moving it along your leg.
“I know you can,” he said, your stomach flipping as his hand moved higher. It was a completely innocent gesture, but he could make anything sinful. “But I like doing these kinds of things for you.”
The unwavering sincerity in his tone made your heart melt. “Thank you.”
He switched to your other leg as your body relaxed more, your thighs parting without him needing to ask. Your body was completely in tune with him. And it was nice to have someone who wanted to take care of you.
“So, was there any particular reason why you wanted to have a bath together?” He asked against your skin, his hot breath making you shiver and tilt your head slightly.
“Just wanted you to relax with me,” you replied, a whimper slipping out as his lips moved delicately along your neck. Your eyes fluttered, thankful that you were sitting since you felt weak in the knees.
Bucky made a sound like he didn't quite believe you. “Maybe you did, but I also think you wanted me in here so I could see you naked,” he said, dropping the washcloth into the water before his hand moved up your trembling thigh again. He placed a soft kiss beneath your ear when he added in a low voice, “And feel how wet you are.”
Your breath caught as you looked between your legs in time to see his large hand cup your mound. You jutted your hips up in the hope to get some friction and he took mercy on you by brushing a finger along your folds. “I’m always wet for you, Bucky,” you whispered, gasping when he teased your entrance. “Feel me.”
He pressed a kiss to your shoulder with a groan when he pushed a thick finger inside, his palm pressing against your clit. “I feel you,” he rasped when he slid another finger in. “Do you know how good it makes me feel knowing how much you want me?” He asked, brushing his metal hand over your breasts, taking a moment to tease your hardened nipples and send a ripple of pleasure through you. “Feels so fucking good.”
The fact that he can get that hand wet and still… Oh, fuck. Right there.
“How could I not want you? I want you so badly,” you moaned, the water splashing around you gently when you bucked your hips. “I want your big, fat cock inside me. Please,” you begged, surprising you with how easily the dirty words tumbled out.
“Jesus fuck. You're killing me,” he grunted, his fingers thrusting and lightly curling inside of your soaked pussy as his other hand slid to your neck. “Telling me you need to relax when you need me to fuck you.”
Both. I need both things.
You whined when you felt his cock press against the curve of your ass. “Please. Fuck me, fuck me,” you chanted, your walls tightening around the thick digits as they pushed in deeper.
He nearly growled when he gripped your chin and turned your head toward his, devouring your mouth. You encouraged him to deepen the kiss as you parted your lips and let him slip his tongue inside. The taste of him was intoxicating. You wanted to get drunk on him.
“Come on my fingers first,” he whispered against your lips when he pulled away. You were unable to keep from whimpering when he circled his palm against your clit, heat radiating from your core. “Come on, pretty girl. Show me how badly you want my cock.”
You reached back to grip his hair when your orgasm hit you hard and fast, your other hand holding his arm as your cries bounced off the walls. His fingers stretched and rubbed you through it, your toes curling and eyes slipping shut. His lips touched your temple when your legs shook, swept away by his desire.
“That’s it. Get my fingers wet. So fucking beautiful,” he praised before you turned your head again and sought out his lips, your heart racing as you came down. His fingers didn't stop until you whined into his mouth, your breathing heavy when your head fell back.
“Did I…” you smiled with hazy eyes as he carefully slipped his fingers out of your quivering hole. “Earn your cock?”
Bucky chuckled as he helped you sit up, his hands gently caressing your arms like he just had to touch you. “More than earned it. And we can relax some more after I finish inside you.”
You trembled all over again. “Even if we get water all over the floor?” You asked, letting him turn you to face him.
His piercing blue eyes bore into yours and a swirl of emotions hit you as you held his face in your hands. He made you comfortable and so at ease with yourself. He was your friend as much as he was your lover. He also made you feel desired.
Most importantly, he made you feel loved.
“We can flood the whole fucking apartment for all I care,” he smiled, stealing the breath from your lungs when he pulled you in for a kiss.
The water was cold by the time Bucky was done with you, which gave him all the more reason to hold you after he helped dry you off. He even put your head in his lap so he could keep you close as he finished reading the recent chapter of his book. Alpine and Soot came out to keep you company, too. It was the perfect afternoon.
All thanks to Stud and his deluxe bathtub.
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Oh, these two. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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amrass · 3 months
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Not me playing RDR2 riding around looking for decent spots for the smut in my fanfic … And not me eradicating O'Driscoll hideouts to see if I can find a cute cabin with a nice bed … And definitely not me giving Arthur candy while I take notes on the scenery …
He's just resting there, chewing on his candy and getting all thick, squinting.
"Got a real bad feeling about this."
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catharsistine · 11 months
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breannasfluff · 6 months
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Eldritch Play
“Hey, Twilight, want to go exploring?” Wild shifts from foot to foot in front of him, shooting glances across the camp. The others are scattered about working on crafts or resting.
“Antsy?”
“Just want to explore.”
With a shrug, Twilight puts his journal aside and pulls himself up. “Sure, cub, let’s take a walk.”
The champion bounces more than walks as they head away from the camp. He’s far too energetic, but the group did stop early for the day. It was an in-between era, but heavy clouds on the horizon promised rain and the edge of the forest was preferable to open grass for the night.
For now, the amber light hints at a spectacular sunset if it doesn’t cloud over. The grass is soft underfoot, stretching out of sight away from the trees.
Wild spins to face him. “Do you want to play Tag?”
As is often the case around the champion, the echo of his wolf form curls around his limbs. What would it be like to transform and run on four paws through the grass? Twilight can nearly hear the faint laughter of an imp on his shoulders.
He focuses on the present. “Who’s chasin’?”
“You! And then we can switch!” Wild is practically vibrating in place. “Wind says it’s good to take turns.”
“Whatever ya want, cub. I’m game.”
Reaching out, Wild taps his arm. “You’re it!” Then he turns and sprints into the grass. The kid can move, that’s for sure.
Read the rest here!
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writing-whump · 18 days
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Feverish cuddles
Just a fluffy thing with feverish Seline and the boys.
The door opened and closed with a thud way too loud for Seline's ears.
She wasn't sure what was wrong. Just that she felt like when she had low sugar after coffee or something super sweet - she was shaky, vaguely nauseous and brittle. But eating didn't help, in fact, the baguette she got herself on the way was sitting all weird in her stomach.
Too greasy. She already hated thinking about her, and it was just a half an hour ago.
The living room alight despite the late evening darkness.
Matthew was sprawled laying on the couch, taking every centerimeter of it while reading a book.
"You are still at it?"
Matthew grunted, not even looking up.
Seline hadn't expected him to be such a bookworm. He liked boxing and working out and looking at his muscled arms and abs in the mirror when he thought no one was looking. He was the towering kind of tough guy one could mistake for a bodyguard, with a perpetual frown and he was proud of it.
So how he could grab a book and spend three days unresponsive by reading it was a real surprise.
A wave of affection at the sight had her letting go of her back and wiggling out of her shoes and coat half-heartedly. She didn't have the energy to be neat or to go all the way upstairs to her room to change clothes.
Seline shuffled to the couch, leaning her knees against the edge.
It took a few long seconds of staring unmovingly for Matt to look up. "What?!"
"Move," she said with a grin.
"Huh?"
She rolled her eyes and then simply flopped right in top of him.
Matthew's breath caught as he moved his hands and book out of the way. Seline sprawled across his chest and waist, laying on top of him, side of her face pressed against his collar bone. "You can't have the couch all for yourself," she chided.
She felt Matthew's deep sigh under her ear, whole chest moving up and down. "You could have said something. I can expand the couch-"
"Nah, this is fine."
Matthew scoffed. "Yeah, for you maybe."
When she didn't move, he raised himself up with her on top, letting her flip backwards against the other end. He was mumbling something in that complaining voice of his that Seline knew was harmless at this point as he expanded the couch to the size of a twin bed.
He lied back down on it on his back, only to splatter for air like a cat, when she glued herself to his side again.
"You have space. Roll over there."
"Noooo. You are warm." She knew it sounded whiny and she didn't care. Her hands and feet were freezing, everything was uncomfortable and her bones weighed her down. No way she was giving up on any comfort in vicinity.
She threw her hand over his waist and when he grumbled but didn't move away, relaxed. When she closed her eyes, the world didn't spin as much anymore.
Her back was still cold, only her front warmed by Matthew's incredible body heat. She let her hand slide to Matthew's stomach, finding the rim of his shirt and going under it to naked skin.
That had him shooting up in panic. "Oww! That's cold! What are you doing?!"
Her lips curled, her blue eyes wide and glassy, blinking innocently.
Matthew growled something. "When is your boyfriend coming home? Go freeze him."
But he settled back down, which she took as permission to plant both of her hands under his shirt, warmth immediately spreading all over her.
Matthew's arm came sneaking around her back, letting him lie on his shoulder, his strong arm around her. Tugging her closer while he lifted the book with his other hand to continue reading.
Seline wasn't sure if she shouldn't be offended he wasn't paying her more attention...but he was warm and comfy. She slid her hands over his stomach, flat and warm and toned, breathing out. If he found it weird, he didn't comment.
She must have drifted off to sleep, cause the next thing she knew was Isaiah kneeling next to her on the sofa.
"Hey, what's wrong with her? Did something happen?" Isaiah stoked the top of her head.
"I don't know. Didn't say. She came, attacked me and didn't move since."
Isaiah chuckled. "Oh, yes, you such a helpless victim of her attack."
He cupped the side of her face and she groaned slightly.
"This is strange. She is always so chipper and happy, when she comes back from work." He threaded his hand through her hair.
"Take her. She is overheating me," Matthew said, turning another page.
She felt Isaiah's cold lips on the side of her forehead, making a happy little noise. He didn't move for a while though.
"Yep, she's got a fever."
Ah, that was it, then.
"Sel, would you like some water? Thermometer? Paralen?" Isaiah offered.
Seline didn't open her eyes, her eyelids were too heavy. But she knew what she wanted, turning around to reach for him.
Isaiah smiled. "Baby, come on. I'll get you to bed."
"No. Stay." A shiver run down her spine. She loved it when he called her that.
"I'll be right back," he said, amused and soft and concerned all at once. How could someone say Isaiah was unfeeling? She could hear so many things in his voice.
Isaish left, which elicted a whine out of her.
Matthew all but fumed next to her at the discomfort. "Geez, he just went to hang his precious suit. Get a grip."
Seline hugged herself tightly, cold now without Matt's arm around her. "Don't be mean. I have a fever."
She could tell he rolled his eyes, shifting on the bed all annoyed, but he put the back of his hand gently to her cheek after. "Just a little. Don't be so dramatic."
Then he got up to get a blanket from the other corner of the couch, draping it over her.
Isaiah came soon after, sliding under the blanket beside her.
Seline wrapped herself around him immediately. He was warm, smelled of coffee, chocolate and coconut and let her press her face against his neck.
Isaiah rubbed the top of her back, between her shoulders, the other hand hooked in her hair at the back of her head.
Matthew turned on his side, towards them, the book rustling in his grip. But he was closer now, his stomach and chest against her back.
Seline was basically sandwiched between them both, warm from all directions. The little discomfort of the fever and shakiness was still there, but the tension melted away, her chest filling up with warm fuzziness.
She sighed contendly.
@bellysoupset
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