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catdiarie · 12 days ago

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☥ ˖ִ ࣪ 🦇 memory wave.　⠀s. rogers & b. barnes . . .

( ♱ ) … the winter soldier is coming back to himself. what now? (tw for emetophobia, panic attacks, and general mental instability)

777 。。masterlist

“Maybe if I’d fucked you more and loved you less I could have left this battlefield wearing just bruises and teeth, but I’m sure that even the cavalry knows that there’s a crack in my heart and it’s been leaking your name ever since we stopped fighting this fight. What I’m trying to say is: you win. It’s all yours. I’m tired and I tried. I’m tired and I love you. I’m tired and I didn’t mean to.”

— Azra T.

—

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Bucky says lowly. His head is tilted down, away from Steve’s intense eyes, dark hair likely a tangled mess around his head. He hasn’t moved from the bed yet. Hasn’t looked up or shifted or switched positions. It doesn’t feel right to do so—the bed’s too soft and unfamiliar. He twists his fingers in the stretched hair tie around his wrist again, the elastic pulling further.

“I know,” Steve responds. “And I tried to argue it, but Tony won’t budge. You stay here with someone or not at all. And I thought if I couldn’t convince him of that, I could at least let you have this.”

This: a bedroom across the hall from Steve’s, with Steve as his babysitter/guard. The whole floor is Steve’s, his presence bleeding through the walls.

“You were always too stubborn for your own damn good,” Bucky mutters. His voice rasps in his throat, aching and rough from disuse. “Guess you finally met your match, huh?”

“I guess,” Steve responds. Bucky can almost feel Steve’s apprehension; he’s waiting for something Bucky doesn’t know how to give. His hair tie snaps, the elastic caught in the twisted fabric.

The silence drags, thick and heavy. Bucky can feel nothing but the weight of Steve’s stare and the bitter cold of the room. His skin itches uncomfortably, but the feeling doesn’t leave as he drags his nails over his forearm. It’s deeper than his skin, settled too far beneath the surface for outside touches to have any effect.

Steve is still staring—waiting, watching. Bucky’s skin starts to crawl.

“I’ll bring some food,” Steve says abruptly. Bucky swallows down an instinctual urge he can’t put a name to.

Steve turns sharply, and Bucky raises his head just enough to see Steve past the curtain of his hair. Steve pauses before he opens the door, hand on the handle. He shakes his head and tugs it open.

Steve is gone, and Bucky still can’t breathe.

An hour later when he returns, Bucky has moved to sitting on the floor across the room from the bed. Dusty footprints streak the floor between the two spaces. Bucky hears Steve sigh—something tired and sad.

“I brought soup, a sandwich, carrots, apples, chips, and chocolate,” Steve murmurs. He sets the tray beside Bucky on the floor and lowers himself down beside it.

For a long, heavy moment, Bucky waits. His fingers twitch against his knees—drawn to his chest; always protect the heart—but Steve doesn’t move.

“Aren’t you going to—” Bucky breaks off, swallowing nervously. He’s not sure what to say now. Anything he does say will probably prompt one of those mournful noises Steve lets out whenever he hears about Bucky and—and HYDRA.

“The food is yours, Buck,” Steve murmurs patiently. It’s streaked through with tinges of sadness he either can’t hide well or doesn’t try to hide. “You can eat it. Not poisoned, not altered in any way. Unless you count adding salt.”

It’s a weak attempt at humor—reaching out with clawed hands in hopes of grasping something strong enough to pull yourself up from the edge with. But it falls flat, and Bucky doesn’t smile. He doesn’t think Steve does either.

But Bucky does as Steve says, and pulls the tray closer to eat. The sandwich first—simple turkey and cheese, something Bucky devours within seconds. He sets aside half the chocolate bar and the chips (something in his head rings Steve Steve Steve) and begins gulping down hot mouthfuls of chicken and noodles.

When Bucky finishes all the food that he hadn’t set aside, he’s still a little hungry, but the gnawing ache is gone. He pushes the tray back towards Steve.

“For you,” he mutters roughly.

This, if nothing else, is familiar. Memories have been coming back in fragmented stops and starts, but Bucky remembers saving the best of his meals (when he got them free or away from home) for Steve. ‘Best’ sometimes meant sweets (relentlessly rare and always immediately devoured) and things like blueberries, which Steve loved, or meats and butters, because they got less of those when Steve needed them most. Thin, sickly Steve who Bucky gave the best of nearly everything to.

There’s a brief, hesitant silence before Steve says, “I’m not hungry.” His voice cracks slightly.

Too much thunders through Bucky’s head and he stumbles to his feet and lurches unsteadily out of the room and down the hall. He collapses at the foot of the toilet, heaving back up everything he just ate until his stomach is empty.

Sometime during the ordeal Steve knelt behind him, clumsily clutching Bucky’s hair in his hands, pulling it back. He’s not really touching Bucky’s skin, but Bucky can feel the burning heat of Steve with how close they are. He yanks away from it—away from the soft glide of Steve’s skin and the heat burned along his nape from the nearness of the touch.

He sees Steve’s lips purse before his vision flickers—again, not the first time—everything rapidly going from blurry to clear and back again. He doesn’t process the sweat stinging along his skin until Steve presses a cool, damp towel into his hands. Unsteadily, Bucky wipes at his mouth and his temples, hands wracked with tremors.

“Bucky.”

Bucky groans and tilts his head back against the wall. He’s nearly panting—breaths escaping too fast, tongue lolling like a dog’s. His eyes latch onto a crack in the wall paint, near where it meets the ceiling.

“Bucky.”

“Steve,” Bucky groans. “Steve, Steve, I can’t—”

“Shh, shh,” Steve shushes him. His worried face wobbles in Bucky’s sight. He always draws his eyebrows together, putting a crease between them. “Just breathe. You need to breathe, Buck.”

Bucky groans again, long and low. His skin feels tacky with sweat. Breathing is a hitching, broken affair. Time passes syrupy-slow, everything aching as Bucky regains his breath.

“That’s it, keep doing that,” Steve murmurs as Bucky draws in breaths slowly.

When he feels well enough to (read: like he won’t throw up again), Bucky hangs his head, hiding his face from Steve. He squeezes his eyes shut to ward off the pain of an impending headache. They always come in moments like this—his mind is a porcelain jar, and sharp memories from before crack the surface until light shines onto the inside, dust flying through the air.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky grates out, “about the food.”

“We have more,” Steve responds. Bucky winces at the softness of his tone. He’s just thrown up what Steve gave him and Steve should be angry. But since Bucky got here Steve hasn’t been responding to anything like Bucky anticipates he will. He responds like Steve and somehow that’s more terrifying than the familiarity of anger.

Bucky picks at a stray string along the seam of his pants. Steve is saying something; Bucky’s not listening. He tugs the string harder and a little hole opens up.

“Bucky,” Steve stresses.

“What?”

Steve gapes like a fish and Bucky is just able to see the expression through his hair.

“You just threw up and nearly had a panic attack and you’re fucking—” Steve groans and tugs at his hair. Bucky laughs. It’s broken and gutted and far from happy.

“You didn’t have to bring me here,” Bucky says. “You chose to do that. No one made you. And now—” Bucky gestures at himself “—you get to deal with the mess that comes with it.”

“You’re not a mess,” Steve says firmly. “You’re hurt and that’s not the same.”

Bucky shrugs and drags himself to his feet. He wobbles unsteadily for a moment before brushing past Steve and out of the bathroom, careful to not let their arms touch. A headache has started now. Pressure between his eyebrows, his temples, at the curve of his neck.

The hall lights are blinding. Bucky staggers into his room and slams the door shut in Steve’s face.

Throughout the entire night, Bucky doesn’t sleep. His body trembles with bone-deep cold and his mind paces like a restless wolf.

Steve never comes to the door.

—

The days melt into gusty winds and pounding rains. There’s nothing between him and the slams of thunder across the sky, nothing between insanity and the clutches of humanity curling at the edges of his mind. Nothing but a weak, easily shatterable barrier.

Bucky spends his days curled in a thin blanket on the floor. He stares at the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Empty spaces of nothing but dust.

He hears Steve in the apartment. Steve leaves plates of food outside his door. Sometimes Bucky eats it. Sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he throws up.

His room is warm. He always pulls a blanket tight around his body, especially across his shoulders and back. It feels like protection—a poor imitation of armor.

It storms that afternoon. Steve is home—Bucky heard him come in earlier. Bucky’s window doesn’t open, something about Tony believing him dumb enough to jump rather than face the Avengers/Steve, but he can see the dark clouds and pouring rain gathering over the city.

Bucky shudders violently as new memory slips into his head, jagged around the edges.

Before the war, Steve hated this weather. It always meant stuffy noses and, in the colder months, the possibilities of sickness heavy in his lungs. Bucky grew to hate it too, because he hated everything that hurt Steve.

Now that means he hates himself.

There’s a knock on Bucky’s door and he turns his unseeing gaze towards the white painted wood.

From behind the door, Steve says, “Uhm, this is—it’s dinner? Lunch? I don’t really know, sorry. If you’re hungry later, let me know and I can make something. Or—you can. Doesn’t have to be me. Anyways, I think it’ll be easier on your stomach, it’s supposed to be good for that.”

Bucky waits until he hears Steve’s footsteps disappear to crack open his door. It creaks wildly and Steve can surely hear it, but by now he knows it’s better to leave Bucky be. Easier for both of them.

He tugs the plate in—bowl of soup, slice of sourdough bread (a delicacy always too expensive for them during the war) with butter, cup of steaming tea.

He’s angry. He wants to hate it—dump the soup and tea down the toilet and throw the bread to the birds. Scream to Steve that everything is different and he’s different and that Steve needs to let go already. Steve doesn’t cook—that’s Bucky’s job. Nothing is right or the same and Bucky is angry.

Instead of any of that, he curls up in the corner of the room and hates himself as he downs spoonfuls of creamy leek soup.

It goes down easy, and his stomach settles.

He doesn’t throw it up.

—

Bucky takes a bath. Not for a while. Not in those first few tentative weeks at the start. But when he decides to take one, single-mindedly focused on this to stave off the twisting pains in his gut and chest, he realizes he doesn’t know how to work Steve’s fancy tub.

He asks Steve, in the end.

(Human connection is exhausting. Bucky rarely talks to Steve—takes it upon himself to stay away for the benefit of both of them—but when he approaches him about a food he’d like Steve to make more or something he hated, he comes back to his room with a pounding heart and layers of exhaustion.

All that matters is trying, Bucky used to tell Steve after another rejection from a nice-looking dame. Now he’s not so sure.)

Steve jumps on the bath idea like an overeager puppy. He has Bucky sit on the closed toilet lid while the water runs, so he can show everything he’s adding to the tub. Bucky just wanted hot water.

“This is bath oatmeal,” Steve murmurs as he pours it in. “And these are some bath salts.”

Bucky stays resolutely silent as Steve explains what each thing does. Steve looks so different, and Bucky still can’t get over it. He looks like he fits in his skin. Somewhere along the line, when Bucky wasn’t there, Steve shifted to fit the muscles and the height and the new weight. It’s disconcerting.

Somehow, though, he’s still Steve. Still doesn’t know when to stop fighting or stop running his mouth. Still hates rules and authority. Still doesn’t know how to be anything but true to his beliefs.

Sometimes Bucky thinks he hates Steve. Other times he thinks he really just hates himself.

Steve declares the bath ready with a grin. Bucky’s eyes trail after him as he walks out of the bathroom. The door closes and Bucky is alone again. Somehow, despite his purposeful self-seclusion, being left alone stings.

Bucky undresses slowly, pulling off his numerous layers with care for his aching shoulders. (A pain that, recently, is ever-present.) He ties his hair up with a rubber band from a jar on the counter, something Steve said about doing for relaxation before washing. When he sinks down into the hot, sweet-smelling water, it feels like coming home. Like when Bucky first walked onto Steve’s floor after Steve had unlocked the door. The brief, hesitant moment where he could pretend. Pretend that it was 1945 and they’d just won the war and were coming home to their small, shared apartment. Pretend that they’d eat supper together on the couch and curl up together in bed high on excitement and trading kisses—

Bucky jerks up with a violent gasp, clutching at the edges of the tub as water sloshes wildly onto the floor. A gasping half-sob is wrenched from his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut to ward off the tears as his chest heaves.

“Bucky? Bucky, are you alright?” Steve calls worriedly from somewhere deeper in the apartment. Bucky trembles, lips moving but unable to formulate a response. He opens his eyes, able to see only the bath’s faucet and the ripples splashing against the tub’s porcelain. Steve’s footsteps, rushed and panicked, move closer until he’s just outside the door. “Bucky, I’m gonna come in, okay?”

A piece of hair slips loose from his bun and hangs down, catching on his eyelashes. Another heaving breath catches in his chest and he coughs, eyes blurring with tears. The door creaks open and Bucky lifts his head enough to see Steve, still dressed in his ridiculous white shirt and jeans. Concern paints every crease on his face and Bucky tries to take another breath.

It breaks into a sob instead.

And then he’s crying, loud and heavy and ugly, and Steve is kneeling beside the tub and cursing it as he tries to pull Bucky close.

The bath is still hot. The air still smells like vanilla bath salt. The year is 2014 and the last time someone held him like this was the night before Bucky got shipped off to war, Steve’s rail-thin frame curled around his as if to shield him from the world, just for a little.

“I remember,” Bucky forces out, choking on the words. “I remember.”

Steve shushes him and holds him close, Bucky’s head tucked underneath his chin, skin dripping water across Steve’s shirt. They rock side to side, just a little, Steve humming under his breath. Bucky feels like a baby—raw and new and crying. Goosebumps have broken out all across his body at the contact, despite the heated water he’s still partially submerged in.

They sit there for a long time, until Bucky can breathe again, but not so long that the water has gone cool. When Steve finally pulls back, he gazes at Bucky softly, like there’s something to protect behind Bucky’s broken eyes and cracked soul.

“Let me get you a towel,” Steve says.

He brings one, white and fluffy, to the edge of the tub so Bucky can dry his face before it gets hung up on a hook. Steve goes to leave and Bucky, desperate and shaky, shoots a hand out to grab his wrist.

“Don’t—don’t leave,” Bucky stutters. His throat feels ripped raw. “Please.”

Steve smiles, and Bucky feels like he just crashed into the ocean.

That’s what Steve is, Bucky realizes. An ocean. Big and loud, doing whatever he wants whenever he wants with no care of the consequences while also being home to so many, a protector of those inside from the natural horrors of the human race.

Steve sits in the bathroom while Bucky washes his body, he lathers shampoo and conditioner in Bucky’s hair as a gentle massage when he asks. Steve pops the tub’s drain and bundles Bucky in the towel, helping him exit the tub and stand on newborn-doe legs.

Bucky sits, passive and quiet, on the edge of his bed, while Steve picks him out pants and a soft shirt to wear. He sits stock-still, scared to even breathe, as Steve runs a brush through his hair.

Everything is intimate and hushed—even his room feels small, lamp glowing golden on the nightstand.

Bucky closes his eyes and dreams that it’s 1945 and he and Steve are still young and in love.

—

It’s still raining outside and gusts of wind are Bucky’s new lullaby. He’s sleeping in his bed now. Fully clothed and with shoes on, because needing to run can occur any time, but in his bed nonetheless.

Sometimes he thinks about Steve. Or—seeing Steve, rather. About leaving his room for more than brief stints, enough to have a conversation or at least tell Steve good morning.

After his confusing, muddled bath from a week ago, Bucky isn’t sure if he can. He couldn’t leave his room for three days after that, confined to it with exhaustion and frustrated tears.

Mostly he thinks about Before. Flashes of memories, however brief, of him and Steve. Bucky learning to cook because Steve was always sick. Teaching Steve to ride a bike in their twenties because he never learned young. Ducking down for a private, chaste kiss from Steve before Bucky had to leave for work. Watching Steve draw and marveling at his luck to have him there.

Watching Steve get frustrated and scream and cry because Bucky was going out with another girl and of course Steve understood the want to be normal but Steve was halfway to dead anyways and Bucky was the only one who ever wanted him and couldn’t Bucky be okay with just him?

When Bucky falls asleep well into the night, he has violent nightmares about Steve. Steve dying, Steve dead—from asthma, pneumonia, his heart giving up. Nightmares of Steve and Bucky making love while Steve whispers into Bucky’s ear every terrible thing he’s ever done and why Steve can never love him.

But Steve brings him breakfast at 8 am on the dot the next morning and smiles softly when Bucky says good morning, so Bucky buries the dreams deep in his subconscious.

Bucky can hear the living room TV playing. Steve likes to do this—prop his feet up at the end of the day and relax watching a movie. Bucky usually falls asleep to it, letting the domestic background sounds relax him. Tonight, though, he has a plan.

His bedroom door creaks as he edges it open. He hears the TV pause.

“Bucky?” Steve calls out. “You need something?”

Bucky pads down the hallway and tries to remember to breathe. When he emerges into the living room, he’s greeted with the sight of Steve half-turned to look at him, arm across the back of the couch.

Bucky takes a deep breath. “Uhm. Can I watch? With you?”

Steve grins. Bucky’s heart pounds.

“Of course. There’s plenty of room.”

So Bucky sits at the opposite end of the couch to Steve with a blanket thrown over his lap. He tries to focus on the movie, really. But he ends up asleep halfway through, head tilted against the armrest.

It becomes a regular thing, the movies. Most of the time, Bucky is too exhausted to make it far through. Steve never seems to mind, always pleased just to have Bucky next to him.

—

They’re eating dinner at the kitchen island. Crispy, boneless chicken and carrots and sourdough and little cups of miso soup. It’s getting colder outside, fall melting into winter.

When they’ve finished eating and Steve is done washing their dishes, drying his hands on a checkered tea towel, Bucky asks before he can lose his nerve.

“Can I have a hug?” He nearly blurts it out. Steve pauses before dropping the towel on the counter. He rounds the island and smiles at Bucky—always smiling, like he’s happy just to look.

“Of course.”

His arms go around Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky leans into it, pressing their chests together with his arms around Steve’s middle and his head tucked beneath Steve’s chin. He lets out a shuddering sigh and trembles as he tries to relax in Steve’s hold. It’s awkward and uncomfortable and Bucky will die if Steve pulls away.

“I’ve got you,” Steve murmurs. His hand, big and hot, comes up to cradle the back of Bucky’s head. “I’ve got you.”

Bucky cried. He isn’t sure when it started or ended, only that when he stands before his mirror he has tear tracks streaked on his cheeks.

—

Bucky takes a lot of baths. Hot ones, where his always-cold feet and hands sting beneath the water. The steam turns his face pink and curls the hairs at his temples. Sometimes he lets Steve wash his hair. Steve’s hands are gentle—he’s always careful to keep the soap and water off Bucky’s face. His hands feel safe.

One night, Bucky almost falls asleep in the bath underneath Steve’s hands. The next night, Bucky falls asleep on Steve’s chest on the couch.

It feels like the ice is melting.

—

It’s snowing outside—light and fluffy flakes that will never stick to New York’s hot pavement. The heat is running in their apartment, and Bucky still bundles up in thick sweaters. Steve, sometimes, goes shirtless. He claims the apartment to be “the perfect temperature for it” even as Bucky argues that it’s not even seventy degrees. It’s nice, though, as much as Bucky grumbles about it. Sometimes, on really good days. Bucky will pull off his top layers and snuggle up with Steve, shivers wracking his body as he gets used to the feeling of someone else’s skin pressed against his.

“Steve?” Bucky asks on one such night. The heat is blasting and it’s perfectly warm. Bucky is tucked up against Steve’s chest, both of them shirtless, Steve laid back against the armrest of the couch.

“Hm?” Steve’s eyes are closed and Bucky thinks he might be half-asleep. His hand starts stroking slowly up and down Bucky’s spine.

Bucky pauses, his lips parted. He swallows thickly and settles back down against Steve’s chest. Steve runs hot and Bucky cold—exact flips of their younger selves. Bucky likes to imagine they’re meant to be. Broken, shattered; Bucky a shell of his past self and Steve fuller than he’s ever been, yet they still fit together like they did as kids and teenagers and new adults.

“I forgot,” Bucky lies softly. Steve hums in understanding and everything is good.

—

The nightmares come back. Violent, twisting beasts that lurk along the edges of Bucky’s mind. A lot of them are flashes, things he can’t make out—

The bright lights of Coney Island. The smell of eggs and soft background chatter. Creaking floorboards. Rustling sheets, Steve’s soft laugh.

—and usually, they start out innocent. Bucky’s worst nightmares begin with his favorite memories.

Steve is drawing. He’s sitting at their small, lopsided desk underneath the window. He’s shirtless—just woke up. The early morning light streaming in halos around him, highlighting his wiry frame. Sloping light and shadows create soft and sharp edges—the gentle fall of his shoulders, the jut of his elbows—and Bucky thinks this must be how Steve experiences the entire world.

“You’re staring,” Steve accuses. He doesn’t even turn around. Bucky grins and props himself up on his bent arm, elbow sinking into the mattress of their creaky bed.

“Got a real nice view to stare at,” he replies. Steve groans and turns in the wooden chair. His fair skin is flushed from the top of his chest to the tips of his ears, putting his scattered freckles on display. As casually as he can manage, Bucky stretches out to put his own skin on display—completely naked, the thin sheets tangled around his hips—all lean muscle and long lines. Steve rolls his eyes at the display.

“Come on, doll,” Bucky goads. “Come back to bed. I miss you—you’re so far away.”

“Them dames know you talk like that?” Steve says, fumbling for an excuse.

“Don’t care about them right now.” Bucky tilts his head and smiles. “Come on, just one kiss?”

“It’s never just one,” Steve mutters, but he pushes his chair back and pads across the floor to the bed. He climbs onto it and Bucky pulls him down with an arm around his waist.

“Mm. Maybe stop lookin’ the way you do then,” Bucky returns. He presses their lips together, taking the opportunity of Steve’s lips parting to dip his tongue into Steve’s mouth.

Everything melts around him, becoming a flurry of sound and movement. When everything is clear again, Steve’s on his back in front of Bucky, completely naked with skin flushed and damp. Bucky leans down to kiss him again, letting his lips hit the edge of Steve’s mouth.

Steve takes them both in hand and Bucky exhales shakily against Steve’s cheek. He kisses Steve’s cheekbone, the hinge of his jaw, the spot below his ear.

“I hate you,” Steve whispers, lips brushing against the shell of Bucky’s ear. Bucky tenses, but doesn’t move. “You think I could ever love you? You’re fucking disgusting.” Steve spits the words out. Bucky tries to pull away but Steve holds him tight.

“Their blood is one your hands,” Steve hisses. “Every last one. Everyone you killed, everything you did—it can never be forgiven. You are a monster. You deserve nothing—”

Bucky jerks awake panting and gasping. His body is covered in a sheen layer of cold sweat. His hands tremble and slip as he yanks at the sheets tangled around him, desperately trying to get them off. A desperate pull has them ripping along a seam and Bucky nearly falling off the bed in his panic.

He’s down the hall before he realizes it. His chest heaves and his vision blurs as he knocks on Steve’s door—probably too hard, too loud.

Steve opens it, eyes wide and hair ruffled with an obvious urgency to his movements. He stops dead when he processes Bucky—breaths wheezing in his chest, legs trembling as they barely hold his weight—standing before him. Bucky stumbles forward until he collapses against Steve, whose arms come up to wrap tightly around his waist and shoulders.

“Shh, shh,” Steve whispers as Bucky’s breaths hitch and stutter. “You’re okay, you’re safe, it was just a dream.”

Bucky shudders. “You—it was you and you said…said that you hated me—”

“Oh, Buck,” Steve says, his voice cracking.

Steve moves them into his room and onto his bed. Bucky curls again his chest, shaking like a wet cat. He tucks his head beneath Steve’s chin and tries not to flinch when Steve’s hand starts stroking his back.

“Shh. I’ve got you.” Steve presses a gentle, barely-there kiss to Bucky’s temple. “Whatever I said in your dreams—it wasn’t real or true. Okay, Buck? None of it. I could never, ever hate you.”

Bucky grasps the front of Steve’s shirt in his shaky fingers. “You said I was a monster.”

“Never,” Steve swears instantly. “Bucky, you’re more human than anyone else I’ve ever met. Everything that happened—it was against your will. None of it was Bucky.”

Bucky sniffles as a few tears trail their way lazily down his face. “I don’t know if I’m worthy of you,” Bucky whispers.

“That’s not your decision to make,” Steve replies firmly. Bucky swallows past the lump in his throat and closes his eyes, trying to get through the frothing waves of emotion washing through him. Steve’s hand runs up and down his back, heavy and soothing, with enough pressure to keep Bucky in his body.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Bucky admits. His voice cracks horribly.

“Bucky…”

“No,” Bucky insists. “I am. Okay? I remember…I remember Brooklyn. Before the war. I remember you.”

Steve presses a lingering kiss to the top of Bucky’s head. The room is silent for a long, long time. There is nothing but the gentle winds outside and the rushes of their breaths in the air.

It’s a long time before Bucky realizes Steve is crying.

“I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry,” Bucky fumbles. “I can—”

Bucky starts to pull away, but Steve holds him tight in place.

“Don’t go,” Steve murmurs, his voice rough from crying. “It’s not your fault. I just didn’t think you remembered any of that stuff.”

“Oh,” Bucky says uncomfortably. “I remember a lot, I think. Mostly all the time I spent looking at you. Especially in those dance halls—I always wanted to teach you how. Guess I blew my chance, huh?”

It’s more than that. The real confession lies heavy beneath the surface, buried by a twisted past of seventy years they spent apart. More than a lost chance, it’s a cry of the ache of forgetting.

“I’d love to dance with you,” Steve replies softly. “You always shined. Were always the best dancer on the floor. Knew all the girls were infatuated with you; I certainly was.”

Bucky lets out a rush of breath in a gentle exhale that ruffles the collar of Steve’s shirt. “I didn’t—don’t—know if you still felt that way. Peggy…she made me think that you’d finally ‘became normal’ in the way I never could. Spent so many damn nights out with girls and I always came back home to you. Never could let go, even when you hated me because you thought you were just a way for me to get what I wanted when I couldn’t have a dame.”

“I love you,” Steve murmurs into Bucky’s hair. “I have for a very long time.”

He pulls back and tilts Bucky’s chin up, resting their foreheads together. Their noses brush, and Bucky feels the wet glide of tears.

“I love you,” Bucky repeats, words barely more than a whisper of breath. He tucks his head back beneath Steve’s chin. He hears Steve laugh softly and his hand comes up to wind through Bucky’s hair at his nape.

“I love you,” Bucky whispers again, just to make sure this is real.

“I love you,” Steve murmurs back as he pulls Bucky closer.

#indelible 𝜗𝜚 #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stevebucky #captain america #the winter soldier #winter soldier #writing #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #fanfic #feveruary #feveruary 2025

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trentlife · 1 year ago

Text

WILD ADVENTURE

part 1

masterlist

instagram au ~ jude bellingham

authors note: mini series of jude and y/n becoming parents for the first time! ive had this requested a lot since my last au, i hope you all enjoy 💕

liked by mollymae, trentarnold66 and 1,859,294 others

yourusername 🫶🏼 ☁️ 🥀 ...

view comments

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trentarnold66 this is why you couldn't hang out a few months ago

↳ madders no need to expose him like that

mollymae going to be the best mummy 🫶🏼

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gioreyna my bro becoming a dad 🥳

shaliimaar parabéns 💕🩵

jackgrealish congratulations bro ❤️

yourbsf cant wait to meet my nephew / niece 🫶🏼

yourusername

liked by jadethirwall, judebellingham and 586,924 others

yourusername here there everywhere 💗 📖 🥑

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↳ user396 me too

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mykonos, greece

liked by yourusername, erling.haaland and 2,693,596 others

judebellingham recharging ☀️ 👩🏽‍❤️‍👨🏽 🇬🇷

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↳ yourusername honey i know x

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yourusername

liked by kendaljenner, paigemilian and 1,394,938 others

yourusername doing life with each other forever ♾️

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judebellingham water babies

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trentarnold66 project jude coming soon, congrats bro ❤️

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♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

like & repost to show support!

hope you all enjoyed part one, stay tuned for part two!

#jude bellingham fics #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham #judebellingham stories #jude bellingham au #explore #explorepage #football

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shokiren · 1 year ago

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chapter 1: my neighbour is kinda...

previous || masterlist || next

note: hi everyone <33 here i present to youuu, the first chapter of "the girl next door"!! i hope you like my poor attempt at being funny 😋 do tell me who your favourite character is!! i'd love to know <33 i personally like azra alot!!!! its not the best but it is my first smau so give me a pass here lmao, hopefully the next part will be a written portion!!

taglist: @celestair, @avid-idiot, @91ed0

#isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi smau #isagi smau #yoichi smau #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk smau #blue lock smau #[ 𓆝 ] THE GIRL NEXT DOOR!

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exehtml · 1 year ago

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MY TAV/DURGE MASTERLIST

Tav : drow , monk-fighter , astarion romance

Azra : tiefling , rogue-ranger , redemption durge , astarion romance

Maera : drow , sorcerer , durge , minthara romance , (unfinished I lost the save i miss you queen)

Senna : drow , monk , durge , minthara romance

Essen : drow , barbarian-rogue , minthara romance

Tae'kra : githyanki , fighter-ranger , karlach romance

Amrai : tiefling , monk-fighter , durge , minthara romace

#I have a serious issue with only making drows #will update w my other tavs I cannot stop #I also cannot stop romancing minthara #I have a wyll romance on the way and a lae’zel one! v excited #bg3 #brainrot #me myself and i #durge #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #baldurs gate durge #minthara #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 screenshots #minthara bg3 #essen posting #my ocs

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legendsofmyriad · 1 year ago

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Legends of Myriad: Arc One - Chapter 22: Making Headway

Chapter 21 | Chapter 23

Arc One Masterlist

-- -- -- -- --

Calloused palms outstretched, Azra influenced another fork of red magic into the writhing tempest. Crimson and ruby washed along the riled grey to lend comfort to the terrified souls inside. It’s all right, he soothed, detaching the remaining life force from the ashes. You can rest now.

He lost track of time and the number of spirits he helped on their way, but eventually, the shrieks and cries subsided. What had greeted him as a frenzied mass tempered beneath his power, departing the realm of the living with whispered gratitude and a final, relieved breath.

Boot soles crunched at the excess grit and sand on the patio behind him. Her presence ghosted up his nape to tickle at his cheeks. The alluring, sweet aroma of deadly Osimer blooms that followed in her wake captivated his senses, and stabilising his magic, he stole a quick glimpse. Delicate lilac flecks in her eyes shifted as she observed him.

“I brought you some water and something to eat,” Lilith said, carrying the covered plate and the filled bottle to the bench. “Professor Spark asked me to remind you not to overwork yourself.”

Azra pondered whether Bartholomew had requested she relay that message or if it was a ploy to disguise her own concern. Regardless, he grunted in acknowledgement and attempted to return to his work, but her proximity flustered him, the staggering emotions emanating from her provoking his concentration.

“The storm isn’t proving too difficult to fix,” he told her, low and distant, hoping to quell her uncertainty.

“I didn’t ask.”

“No, but I can feel it.” With a slight dip of his head, he inhaled deep and slow. “Or are you forgetting what my power permits me to see?”

Teeth gritted and fingers flexing, Lilith endeavoured to conceal her mounting agitation. “How could I forget,” she replied levelly, a biting undertone lacing her voice, “when that same power caused so much harm?”

Azra’s arms buckled under a rippling pang, but he managed to brace himself against the uncomfortable sensation. Within the depths of his wounded soul, he wanted to apologise, to mend the fractures between them and leave the war in the past. But the more he ruminated, the more he wondered whether it would be simpler if she held on to that animosity she harboured for him. Would it be fairer to let her get on with her life without him, never having to see his face and be haunted by the memories of the lives he plundered, the friendships and loved ones he callously ripped away? With him gone, she had the chance to start anew, free from the constant reminder of the heartache he had inflicted.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be staying long,” he assured her, continuing to hush the storm. “I’m going back to Solgarde as soon as this is done.”

“Rather presumptuous of you to think I’d worry,” Lilith shot before she could withhold the remark. Once it was out, there was no stopping the rest. “No, you’re perfectly capable of looking out for yourself. And only yourself. Altair keeps telling me you are remorseful, but you are just as cagey as ever. Or is that only with me?” Her chest rose and fell with her pounding breaths in a rhythmic dance of exertion as she expelled the discomfort from her body. “It doesn’t matter. At least I know once you have served your purpose, you will be leaving.”

Her words crashed into him like arrows, nesting in the devotion he housed for her and meshing into a spinous wreckage. Tainted and split, her own affection cracked even more. Little of the light remained.

That time is over, he reminded himself, imagining the faded imprint on her heart where her love had once flourished and bloomed year after year. His own flickered just as waning. Do not do this to yourself. Do not do this to her.

He bit the inside of his mouth until he almost tasted blood, fighting back the crushing desire to confess every shred of fondness he still nurtured for her. Footsteps fading, he allowed the solitude consume him.

It would be better this way. By isolating himself and his destructive gifts, he could decrease the likelihood of inflicting more pain. He would provide help wherever possible, but then he would vanish again. A ghost. A spectre.

Collapsing onto the bench, he cleared the residues of magic fizzling on his palms. With some reluctance, he decided to take a longer break than planned to allow the more persistent marks to melt before resuming his task. He knew he should have worn gloves, but he loathed the restraint of the taut fabric and clasps burrowing into his wrists.

He squirmed and manoeuvred until his back met the wall, and placed the plate that Lilith had brought him on his lap. A bowl of shrew berries, citrus pieces, and an assortment of oat clusters rested in the middle of the platter.

How many times had she silently delivered him food and water in the early hours, restless nights ravaged by work? How many yawns had she hidden to hold her warm body against his and ward off the unforgiving nighttime chill? Rarely had she instructed him to go to sleep or acknowledged the exhausted, bruised smudges under his eyes. Instead, she had loved him. Supported him in ways he didn’t deserve, and now… now all of that was lost.

He popped a cluster and a dripping section of yellow fruit into his mouth, wondering whether that was for the best. Let the past rest, he told himself. Let time seal the hurt. For you and for her.

Determined not to dwell on matters she couldn’t resolve, Lilith briskly made her way into the lab. Waves of heat from the working machinery engulfed her, washing away the stinging cold and soothing her bitter aches. She would have traded anything to be in the common room at The Citadel, cocooned in a fluffy blanket with a steaming hot tea in hand. Rain ricocheting off the windowpane until it was dampened by the insistent crackles beneath the engraved mantelpiece. Tiny gusts tunnelling down the chimney for attention and coaxing the flames. Peace. That was what she wanted. A quiet hush that melted her worries, a pocket of time where she was permitted to exist without expectations or obligation.

Yet she didn’t have the luxury of lingering in those comforting thoughts. The Core needed waking, Myriad teetered on a precipice, and the flickering fireplace and tempestuous nights would have to wait until the nine worlds were secure.

Clicking over tile and aged wood, she loosened the first few buttons on her jacket and fanned the heat from her face as the churning equipment became almost stifling.

“Ah, there you are!” Bartholomew said, excitement exuding from his features and his eyes shining with renewed enthusiasm. “Come, I have something to show you.”

Lilith followed him to the cluttered worktable, books and browning research papers haphazardly scattered and piled along the surface. Findings and ideas were already taking shape in the opened notepads resting on the corner of the wide desk.

“This may be a bit of a stretch, but I believe if it is conducted correctly, it has a high chance of success,” Professor Spark said as he shuffled the sheets and located the required textbook. “To wake The Core, we need to kick start the ecosystem.”

“Like plant trees and clear the atmosphere?” Lilith questioned.

“Not exactly.” He flipped the pages and tapped on a diagram that showcased the intricate connections between four distinct elements, arrows and cryptic symbols intertwining them. “A long time ago, The Core gave these blessings to four of the worlds of Myriad when they were in need. A magical bird was given to Delorem, pure temporal essence to Eternity, a unique water to Skuld, and a rare mineral to Prosperia. Nothing could taint them or mix with them, so they should still be in their original states.”

“Even the bird?”

“It does not breed as others of its kind do. Their numbers may dwindle, but they would never go extinct. Combined, these four elements have the ability to restore the land.”

As she contemplated the plan, she grazed her fingertips over the musty, crinkled maps, wandering around the stones and trinkets holding down their edges. It spread out to her like a promise, inviting her into a world of adventure and untold stories. And at that precise moment, vulnerable. The few things she had read about The Core since arriving at the lab were enough to indicate how severe the matter was. With little time to spare, they were racing to keep ahead of the ticking clock, and each passing hour amplified the threat of impending chaos.

“Two academy students are already in Eternity and Delorem, so I will contact them with the details,” Bartholomew explained. “While they are collecting the bird feather and the temporal essence, you and I can travel to Skuld and Prosperia.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me, professor,” she agreed.

“I shall call them now. Be prepared to leave once I return.” Lilith playfully saluted, her mischievous grin matching his own, and he bounded down the steps to the communication console.

“Off on another venture,” Altair commented quietly, relaxing against the low worktable. Despite the excitement in her aura, he noticed the wearied, thought-ridden pinch on the bridge of her nose. He didn’t need to question what occupied her mind. He knew the cause was outside fixing the storm as they spoke.

Without uttering a word, he brought her in for a supportive embrace. “It will be all right,” he promised. “You will grow around the wounds.”

“I thought keeping my distance would make it easier,” she admitted, “but it hasn’t. One second, I see him wanting to say something, and the next the icy wall descends, and it’s like we never knew each other at all. I haven’t exactly helped, I’m fully aware of that, but… I wish he would just say what he needs to.” She stepped back, inhaling the warm air to suppress the surge of emotions threatening to overflow.

“I shall talk to him while you are away,” Altair offered. “It would hardly be fair for me to speak my mind with you about the situation and not him. Who knows? Perhaps we can resolve this. Find a way for you both to be comfortable.”

“It would take a miracle, but if you’re up for the challenge, you may do as you wish,” Lilith said. “But right now, duty calls, and I had better not keep it waiting.”

Bartholomew adjusted the dial inch by inch, fine-tuning the frequency and flicking the switches beside it as he listened for a stable rhythm within the static hiss. Fluctuations in the communication lines disrupted the visual display, stubbornly persisting before an abrupt pop terminated the transmission for a fourth time. With a grumble, he planted his hands on his hips.

Stooping over the controls, he flipped through Oscar’s reports, skimming the vivid descriptions of various types of flora and occasional anecdotes about his travels. Weeks had passed since he last wrote, briefly describing an outskirt village he had come across and his eagerness to delve into his next research endeavour.

With a flick of his wrist, Professor Spark activated the holographic map, projecting a detailed model of the area Oscar had mentioned. “Swamp land,” he muttered to himself as he enhanced the image of the watery copse. “No atmospheric disturbances, no localised weather events, no magical traces.”

If Bartholomew hadn’t become accustomed to Lilith’s aura, he would not have realised she was standing right behind him until she spoke, her footsteps so light she may as well have been a mouse. “Is there a problem?” she asked.

“I cannot reach Oscar,” he answered. “He is currently on Lucarian charting vegetation growth for me, but my attempts to communicate are being blocked.”

“By him?”

“No. There seems to be some sort of disruption to the connection.”

“Is he okay?” Lilith questioned sharply, mind alight and poised for action. “Did he mention anything unusual or voice any concerns before you lost contact?”

In a composed gesture, Bartholomew turned from the map and shook his head. “At this stage, there is no need to panic. Since the gateways are still re-establishing themselves, signals can waver and take a while to settle. We should be able to talk to him soon.” She concealed her doubts behind a calm facade, but the slight crease by her eyes betrayed her apprehension. “Professor Bevan, perhaps you could monitor the Lucarian channels for me while Lilith and I are away?”

Altair hummed his agreement and huffed a memory-filled breath. “You wouldn’t believe the mishaps Citadel students can get into, yet they always manage to find their way back.”

“Not all of them,” Lilith said, two sets of bespectacled gazes resting on her.

Glimmers of remorse festered, and Altair lowered his chin. He supposed, when he dug through the thick layer of optimism he liked to approach situations with, that not every student returned. Some were left scarred, some wheeled home on clicker horses, tormented by what they had experienced. And some never made it. All those empty classroom chairs, all those spaces where they had once shone with energy and ambition. Curiosity had grown bored with them and abandoned them to wither. It wasn’t always glorious adventure they found, but a cruel reality that was not as merciful as fairy stories.

“I am certain that it is a signal issue,” Bartholomew assured them. “The tablet I gave him is active, and I have set up a memo for him. Once the link is back, he should receive it.”

“I will keep a close eye on the communications,” Altair promised. He glanced over to Lilith, offering her a reassuring look that smoothed away the furrow of worry.

Bartholomew patted the man’s shoulder in gratitude and made long-legged strides around the lab, gathering items from drawers and cabinets and stuffing them into his satchel. “All going to plan, our venture should not take up too much time. I know where to locate the mineral in Prosperia, and the folk on Skuld used to be rather friendly, so if that is still the case, I cannot see us encountering any problems in attaining the water.”

“Until logistics find a way of intervening,” Lilith pointed out. “Never assume something will run smoothly just because you expect it to. Theory and practice are two different beasts.”

“Spoken like a true warrior,” Bartholomew noted. “In any case, we should get going. I shall prepare the gateway.”

Lilith’s unblinking scrutiny dawdled on him until he was out of earshot, and she redirected her focus to Altair. “Contact me as soon as you receive any news from Oscar,” she said, “because if we do not hear from him by the time I return, I’ll find a way to Lucarian and bring him home myself. I refuse to let anybody make a habit of putting our students in danger, I don’t care who they think they are or what power they possess.”

“Of course, Commander Cleaver,” the professor of magic replied, sensing the combative instinct within her taking over. “You will be the first to know. And if we are dealing with a tricky situation, I have ways of getting a message to Sunbreak agents.” She offered him a grateful nod, and he reciprocated the expression, wordlessly expressing his support of her judgement; the pupils of the Citadel had endured enough, and despite Bartholomew’s intentions and his budding friendship, Altair would not allow innocents to be cast into the flames in order to test the severity of the inferno.

-- -- -- -- --

If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider reblogging. Reblogging helps to get work out there and seen.

#legends of myriad #legendsofmyriad #fantasy #fantasy writing #story series #writblr #writeblr #creative writing #fantasy story #writing #fantasy series #original fiction #original fic #original writing

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insomniamamma · 4 years ago

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Masterlist: Oh crap I guess I write fic now (and some original art)

Prospect:

Egret AU:

Greenhorn: Young!Ezra x F!reader

Fairy Tale of Puggart Bench: Young!Ezra X F!reader

Entangled: Young!Ezra x F!reader

Nightswimming: Young!Ezra x F!reader

Prickle:

Prickle: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Brigand: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Rain: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Pigment: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Where the Heart is: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Clean Dirt: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Ribbons and Wings: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Screaming Mimis: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Sacellum: Ezra xF! reader w/Cee

Safe: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Found: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee **smut**

Night of Hunters: Ezra xF!reader w/Cee

Fancy: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Indulgence: Ezra x F!reader

Christmas in the Ephrate: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Seasonal: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Ezra + Little Microfic: Ezra x F!reader

Glory: Ezra x f!reader

Liminal:

“Ferris Wheels Are For Old People”: Ezra x F!Reader w/Cee

Liminal: Ezra and Cee (no reader insert)

“Surf City Goodness”: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Late Bloomers: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Tricks (Or How Bee Girl Got Seduced Into A Life of Crime): Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

Oneshots:

Euphemisms: Ezra x F!reader

To Have and to Hold: Ezra x Gn!Reader

Persistence: Ezra xF!Reader w/Cee

Remain Nameless: Ezra and Cee w/Gn!Reader

Collide: Ezra x Gn!Reader

Stuck: Ezra x f!reader

Ezra + Hopeful Microfic: Ezra and Cee

Tessellation: Ezra and Cee

Needles & Pins: Tattoo Artist!Ezra x f!reader w/cee

Threefold: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

Gravity: Ezra x F!reader

Headcannons:

Soft!Ezra headcannons

The Mandalorian:

Blue Morning: Fennec Shand x f!Twi’lek reader

The Shallow: Din Djarin x F!reader

Snow Day: Din & Grogu

Dragon AU:

Dragon: Boba Fett x Gn!Reader

Small Stakes: Boba Fett x Gn!Reader

Bright Lights, Big City: Boba Fett x Gn!Reader

Atin’ika AU:

Stubborn: Din Djarin x Gn!reader

Hands: Din Djarin x Gn!reader w/Grogu

The Song of the Wrong Response: Din Djarin x Gn!reader

Triple Frontier:

About What We Want: Frankie Morales x f!pregnant!reader

Vanilla: Frankie Morales x f!reader **smut**

Pumpkin Guts: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Frisbees and Cherry Trees: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Over Easy: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Changes: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Maze (Changes AU): Frankie Morales x f!reader

The Triple Frontier Boys and Kittens

The Triple Frontier Boys and Spiders

House Comes With A Bird:

Ephemera: Nico (House Comes with a Bird) x f!reader.

Surrender: Nico (House Comes with a Bird) x f!reader

Nautical Twilight: Nico (House Comes with a Bird) x f!reader

Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own: Nico (House Comes with a Bird) x f!reader

Nico NSFW Alphabet

Somnophilia with Nico

Crowdstrike: Nico (House Comes with a Bird) x f!reader

The Last of Us:

In The Light They Both Look The Same: Joel Miller x f!sexworker!reader

Spinner: Joel MIller X F!reader

Forever’s Gonna Start Tonight: Joel Miller x F!reader

Pussy Whipped: Joel Miller, Ellie Williams & Reader + Jones the cat

Year of Kisses:

Closing Time: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Glory: Ezra x f!reader (Prickle’verse AU)

The Shallow: Din Djarin x F!reader

Tessellation: Ezra and Cee

Threefold: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

Gravity: Ezra x F!reader

We Came Along This Road: Frankie Morales x F!reader

Marcus Pike:

Closing Time: Marcus Pike x f!reader

The One That I Call Baby: Marcus Pike x f!reader

The Right Way To Fall: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Fan Art:

Fae King Ezra

Haunted Din

Naga Oberyn

Nico on the rooftop in a sunset made beautiful by smog

Selkie Cee

Original Art:

Art thing(webcomic IDK what the actual title is yet):

Panel 1 comms array

Panel 1 progress vid

Panel 2 control console (in progress)

J!TheMando:

J! as a Mandalorian:

used this Halloween photo as reference:

j!TheMando progress

j!TheMando progress 2

j!TheMando progress 3

j!TheMando progress 4

j!TheMando progress5

j!TheMando progress so far

Moodboards:

Rainer Maria Rilke

aesthetic game

queen of poisons

Azra Tabassum (Ezra vibes)

#masterlist #update #insomniamamma writes #ezra prospect x f! reader #ezra prospect x gn!reader #boba fett x gn!reader #original art #insomniamamma makes art #art thing

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 4 years ago

Text

🌅SUNSET PT.2🌅

Prompt: Continuation of the Sunset drabble

Word Count: Ugh, long!

Pairings: Seth Rollins x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst, physical assault, cursing.

Tag: @marlananicole , @theworldofotps , @new-zealand-chic , @yungbludjazz360 , @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

Notes: Ok, I’m officially in love with Azra 😍! Continuing the saga: “Gaby is in her Seth Rollins’ phase” Here’s the second part of the Sunset drabble.This kind of wrote itself, so here you go...If you would like to know how this story begun, check out the first part on my Masterlist. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check them out on my Masterlist. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Y/N? What are you doing out here in the rain?” Seth asked

“I-I didn’t know where to go”

“Hi, prince charming” Azra waves at him from his front porch where she stood with a now, 5 months old, Amal.

“Hello, princess” He smiled at her and asked me “What happened?”

“He’s a bastard, that’s what happened”

Seth’s eyebrows raise in surprise to hear me talk like that about my soon to be ex husband

“Let’s go inside”

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

It was now 11 p.m., way passed the kids bedtime so they ended up sleeping on Seth’s couch with his dog, Kevin by their side

“They’re out” He chuckle

“Yeah, it was a hectic day”

“Why don’t you go take a hot shower, take off your wet clothes and we’ll talk about what happened? In the meantime I’ll take them up to the guest room so they can sleep more comfortably” He asked and I nodded

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

Seth placed his own cleaned clothes on the countertop for me. A black t-shirt, boxers, grey sweatpants and a pair of white socks.

When I leave the bathroom he’s already waiting for me in the leaving room with two cups of hot chocolate for us.

“Thank you” I mumbled softly, sitting on the couch

He smirked “No problem, baby”

I decided to ignore the tingling his sweet words caused in my stomach and asked what has caught my attention since I entered his house

“Where’s your wife? I want to apologize to her for the inconvenience”

“I don’t know where she is” He shrugs

I give him a quizzical look

Seth laughed “She’s not my wife anymore. That’s why I don’t know where she is”

“Oh” I gasped in shock “I’m sorry to hear that”

“Nah, it’s ok. I did us both a favor. I love somebody else and so did she...who were we fooling but ourselves? The only difference is that she gets to be with the love of her life and I” He looked at me “Hope one day I’ll get to be with mine too” Seth gave me a weak smile before asking “So, what happened?”

“He cheated on me and she’s pregnant. But according to him, it meant nothing.” I scoff

“What? You’re kidding me?” He asks in disbelief

“To be honest I think I saw that coming...he changed, a lot! Especially with the kids...I guess it was just the calm before the storm”

“Do you know who that girl is and if she’s really pregnant?”

“No and I don’t care. The minute he slid his dick into someone else without even thinking about me or the kids or even the fact that he could bring some kind of STD home from whatever whore he’s fucking, I don’t care if she is or not pregnant. That’s his problem not mine!”

“That’s dangerous Y/N. Tomorrow morning we can go get you tested if you’d like”

“I already did, thank you” I smile in appreciation “I’m clean, thank God”

Seth sighed in relief “What are you gonna do now?”

I shrugged “I think I’ll go back to my parents house. I don’t really have a place to go so I figured that would be the best thing to do... But it’s just for a while, until I can get my life back together and then who knows?”

“Or you can stay here with me” He offers

I look at him in shock

“Seth, I-I really appreciate your gesture but I can’t accept it.”

“Why not?”

“Well, since I had Amal I’m unemployed, I wouldn’t be able to help you pay the bills plus there’s the kids and-“

“I didn’t say I wanted you here as a roommate to help me pay the bills, Y/N. I want you and the kids here as my guests! I don’t want you to worry about anything financially, I just want you to stay for as long as you need and once you figure everything out, you can leave if that’s your wish. Although I wish you won’t”

“Seth, are you sure? I don’t want us to be a burden for you”

“You could never be a burden to me, baby” He winks

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

It’s been 4 months now, since we moved in with Seth. Azra is helping me to separate the chopped bell peppers by color order, so we can get dinner started while Amal stares from the kitchen door on his little baby jumper.

I sing with Azra an old Arabic song when the front door opened, making Amal scream in joy to see Seth.

“Hey buddy, where is our girls, huh?” He asked him, placing his duffel bag on the floor and going to the bathroom to wash his hands.

Seth grabs Amal from the jumper and heads to the kitchen island.

“SETH” Azra screams, quickly jumping from the island to hug Seth’s legs

“Azra! We don’t jump from other people’s furniture, that’s not polite!” I reprimanded her

“Sorry, mommy” She said hugging his legs

“It’s ok, Y/N” Seth chuckled “Hi, princess. How are you?” He squats down to grab her up in his free arm

“Good, but I missed you” She mumbles with her tiny face buried on the crook of his neck

“Aww, I missed you too, sweetie. So, so much!” He kisses her forehead

“Did you really?” Azra hopefully asked, looking into his eyes “Daddy never said he missed me” She said, hurtful

My heart hurt in anger to hear such words filled with disappointment from my daughter’s mouth. I’m gonna kill Jonathan as soon as I get the chance!

“Don’t mind him, princess. The important thing is that I missed you. And I love you so, so much!” Seth bumped his nose with hers “I love you, Azra. And you, Amal” He looks at him, making Amal giggle joyfully “And I love, mommy” Seth winked at me

“Can I call you daddy?” She asked

“Azra!” I reprimand her once more

“Of course you can, baby!” Seth smiles, kissing her cheek

Azra claps her tiny hands in happiness and says “You see, Amal. Seth is our new daddy!” She caresses Amal’s short blond hair “You have to call him daddy from now on, ok?” She asked and Amal mumbled.

With a voice full of love, Seth asked

“So, what’s for dinner?”

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

After dinner, Seth puts the kids down for bed and reads them a bedtime story. Azra’s all time favorite: Aladdin.

In the middle of the story they’re fast asleep and he comes down to the living room. Sitting on the couch beside me.

“You didn’t had to do that, you know?”

“Do what?” He asked

“All those things you said to Azra! Mainly the daddy thing. That was unnecessary, Seth. I already have to kill Jonathan for hurting her like that, I don’t want to have to add you to the list as well” I spat

“Do you think I was lying about that?”

I gave him a cynical look

“So you think I let you and kids stay here with me just because I want to have the pleasure of kicking you out someday? Really, Y/N? I’m not Jonathan! You know me better than that”

I opened my mouth to say something when the doorbell rang.

Seth opened the door and the last person I was expecting to see, bursted in like the house was his.

“Where is she?”

“Hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Seth stopped Jon “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I don’t recall saying you could come in, get the fuck out of my house” Seth shove him away

“I’ll only leave this house with my wife and kids! Do you think I’m dumb? Do you think that I don’t know she’s here?” Jon stepped closer to Seth “Do you think that I don’t know that you still have the hots for my wife? Give up, pal! She’s mine, I won. Now get the fuck out of my sight, so I can take my wife and kids home”

“That’s cute” Seth chuckled lightly “But not gonna happen. Get the fuck out before I kick your ass”

“Oh, you’re that committed to get that pussy, huh?” Jon laughs

“Don’t talk about her like that” Seth snarled

“She hasn’t fucked you yet, has she?” He stares at Seth for a few seconds “No, she hasn’t! That’s why you’re so desperate, right?” Jon leans forward “I gotta say though, if I were you, I would also be desperate. I mean, such a good pussy like Y/N has and to never be able to have it” Jon grinned “Would drive any man mad”

And then it happened.

Seth’s fist connected to Jon’s jaw and the most horrendous bar fight started. I ran to the front door to try to stop the fight.

“Seth, please! He’s not worth it”

“Hey doll” Jon bloody smiles “Missed me?” Jon moves his tongue in licking motions.

Seth growls punching him more vigorously on the floor

“SETH, DON’T!” I screamed

“DADDY” Azra yells, crying from the stairs and running towards the fight

“Azra, no!” I run to stop her

“Please, daddy. Stop!” She sobs

And to our surprise, she delicately places her small little hand on Seth’s arm

“Please, daddy! I don’t want you to go to that place where they keep bad men locked away” She begged

Seth quickly got up from the floor, scooping her up in his arms

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to scare you” He whispered

“Please stay with me, daddy? Don’t leave me, please” She cries

“I’ll never leave you, baby. I’ll always be here with you. I love you, remember?”

“Daddy? What the fuck?” Jon tried to approach them but stopped as soon as he sees me grabbing the fire poker

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Jon asked, slightly scared

“Get the fuck out or I swear to God I’ll kill you right here!”

“Y/N, you’re not thinking straight, doll. He brainwashed you”

“You have five seconds to leave or the next thing laying around the floor is going to be your brains”

“Kitten, please. Just hear me out-“

“You’ve been warned, Jonathan. And you know I’m crazy enough to do it! One, two-“

“No, let’s talk about it” Jon shook his head

“Five” I whispered and fastly swung the fire poker up making Jon run out the door.

I close and lock the front door and ran upstairs to check on Amal, who was surprisingly still asleep.

I meet Seth and Azra on the kitchen. They are talking while Seth holds her in his arms and makes her some chamomile tea to calm her down.

“I don’t want him as my daddy anymore. He’s mean and scary! I want you as my daddy” She sobs

“And I am, sweetie! I’ll always be here to protect you, Amal and mommy from him or any other bad men. Ok?” He asked and she nodded

“I love you” Seth hugs her tightly, kissing her temple.

“I love you too, daddy” She answers, with her arms tightly closed around Seth’s neck

“Here, baby” He gives Azra her light blue Frozen bottle with the tea on it “Drink it, so you can go night-night”

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

“It took her a while but she’s sleeping now” Seth sighed “I’m sorry, Y/N. I-“

I interrupted him with a passionate kiss. Seth’s hands quickly locked around my waist, sitting me up on his en suite bathroom countertop.

“I love you” I whispered

Seth smiled “Say it again”

“I love you, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me! I love you, Seth”

He sighed in relief “I love you too, baby. Always have! Since the first day I laid eyes on you”

“Show me?” I ask

“All night long, baby” He chuckled, picking me up in his arms, taking us to his bed.

Where he kept his promise and showed me all night long why this was a choice I’ll never regret making it...

Please if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

#seth rollins fanfiction #seth rollins x reader #seth rollins #seth rollins one shot #seth rollins imagines #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe one shot #wwe fanfiction

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coffee-and-geto · 6 months ago

Text

“HAVE YOU SEEN MY PANTIES?”

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: in a lazy, hot summer afternoon, it’s your boyfriend’s turn to do the laundry. but why doesn’t he respond when you’re asking where’s your panties?

warnings: +18, smut, nsfw, gojo is your boyfriend, needy! gojo, cute! gojo, fluff, nipple play, panties sniffling, masturbation (m), oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, sex (p in v), also based on a @/yunonoai’s comic!

wc: 2,128

“Babe, can you do the laundry? I have a call.”

“Sure,” Satoru replies, standing up from the couch where he was lazily lying down, chilling out in front of some tiktoks.

He steps towards the bathroom, the laundry hamper waiting for him to be emptied and washed. With a resigning sigh, he looks down at the heap of dirty clothes. One of them overhangs them all: your favorite panties — the one he bought you last month.

The lace surrounds with finesse the satin fabric of your favorite color.

So how can he not be hard at the only sight that reminds him how long you both haven’t had sex?

Fuck.

His breathing becomes heavier, each inhaling being a trial to not pay attention to the prominent bulge swelling down his gray jogging pants. Of course, the memory of your whimpers will always be like music to his ears, the fwap sounds of his cock buried deep, so deep, inside of your wet pussy, and his balls, so much filled with his cum and tightening when he's about to climax, slapping against your ass at each pound into you.

He is grouching now, at the edge of whining in need of your full attention — but of course, you needed to have a call at this very moment.

His hand twitches to his crotch, palming his already hard erection through the soft fabric of his pants, electricing at quiet moans, Satoru’s beautiful face wincing in pleasure. He swallows thick, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and gives in. With messy movements, he lifts up his black shirt to grab the hem at his watering mouth and muffle his cute sounds between his clenched teeth and jaw. The fresh air blow at his hard abs, making him tensing his belly with scorching skin.

His big, calloused hand fiddles with his erection, so ready to free himself from the torturous sensation of your pretty panties, which he holds between his fingers and brings to his nose to inhale your scent, which makes him like a little puppy for you. Satoru utters a desperate whimper and finally buries his hand under his clothes to release his quivering cock.

It’s much bigger than usual, beads of precum glistening on the angry red tip, and veins sinuating the flesh. Of course, it’s perfect. That’s why it will never seem strange to anyone to see him stroke himself. He lazily fucks his tight fist, picturing your sweet pussy as he closes his eyes, beads of sweat leaking from his temples a flush spreads all over his cheeks.

His length girth throbs between his digits, coursing waves of lust through him as Satoru quickens the pace, as the same as his heartbeat. Saliva damps the fabric of his black shirt, and the idea of substituting the hem of his shirt with your panties carries out straight away, increasing his arousal until it’s twitching in a maddened way. With each stroke, the pre spreads along his shaft to allow it to be lubricated, at the point that if you all of a sudden show up in the bathroom, you both can skip the foreplay but damn!

“Toru? Did you see my panties?” Your voice echoes through another room.

But he doesn’t answer anyway.

“Fuck,” he grunts in a quiet whine, “miss you so much, babe.” His balls tighten, following the next moment — and it doesn’t take that much time he expected, because a few seconds after he twists his wrist in an upstroke movement — the exact way you’d do to him — he’s already cumming on the heap of laundry, dirtying them even more they already were, puddles of a viscous liquid, spreading out in droplets as the orgasmic peak subsides.

Panting heavily, he doesn’t hear you burst into the bathroom as you exclaim, “Satoru? You serious? Look at the state of the laundry now!”

With a swift gesture, he removes your panties from his mouth and turns his head suddenly towards you. He’s unable to justify himself and simply watches your disapproving pout ruffle your pretty lips. “Sorry babe, I'll clean it up.” He also notes how your mere presence makes him hard immediately despite having softened a moment earlier with the moment of “relief” he wished to provide for himself.

“Where are my panties?” you ask a second time as you rummage, eyebrows furrowed, through the basket of dirty laundry.

Satoru rubs the back of your neck nervously and hesitates to hide your underwear in his palm. “Uh... here,” he murmurs softly, slightly discomfited as you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation.

“You’re that much needy?”

Satoru looks down, a little boyish pout on his lips that breaks your heart. “Sorry...”

Your frown softens. “Oh, um— No, Toru, please don’t gimme that look,” you whisper, walking over to him, your hands instinctively cupping his cheeks to make him look down at you. “I’m sorry, my love. You need to tell me when you need me, okay?”

Satoru nods slowly, still guiltily pouting. “Can I have you? Please? Just one round, I swear I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs.

His request makes your lips curl up. “My boy does want me? You’re cute, almost begging like this.” You graze a kiss on his cheek. “Get on your knees.”

“Like that?” His knees make contact with the floor, his cock still outside his dangling jogging suit. He so fucking cute, listening to you so obediently.

“Good boy,” you coo, sliding pants down your thighs. Your black panties hug the swell of your hips, your intoxicating scent spreading toward Satoru’s nostrils.

He moves towards you using his knees to grip your hips and sniff your scent once more. The action makes you giggle so much that it makes you suck in a breath when he pulls down your underwear to kiss your groin. “Love you,” he whispers. “I want to taste you, please.”

“Satoru, just wait I—” But he cuts you off, darting out his tongue to lick a strip enough to feel your bundle of nerves. A moan escapes your lips, driving your breath as crazy as he’s doing with his skillful mouth.

“You’re dripping,” Satoru comments, kissing your lower lips swiftly before grabbing you by the thighs and lifting you up, dropping you off the washing machine. “Spread your legs,” he mumbled, all needy and flushed to eat you out.

And how long he hadn’t—

It’s like he’s drunk on you, ignoring your moans and whimpers as he rests his cheeks on your inner thigh to wrap his wrist around your thighs. His fingertips dig into the flesh of your thighs, trapping you firmly. “Keep ‘em spread, baby,” he purrs, lapping your soaked core and sensitive, puffy clit. “It tastes s’good, I’ve missed you.”

His dick twitches and throbs afterward, your sweet sounds re-hardening him and making him more swollen than he was even after the few rubs he did to relieve himself.

“Hmm, ah, Satoru, you—” you trail off, throwing back your head against the wall, your hands grabbing the washing machine’s edge until your knuckles turn white. “I’ll be close, I—” you babble, and the realization of how much not having sex with him for so long is turning you into a virgin-like. And also, the clenching feeling of your pussy, lips parting and closing around nothing hits you so hard.

You need to cum on his cock.

“Satoru, stop,” you gasp, your fingers snaking gently through his white lock and tugging them carefully.

He stops the moment after your whine reaches his ears — a sound ringing like music to his ear. “But… I haven’t made you come yet,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit slowly with his forefinger and middle finger. His cute pout is now begging you to give him grace.

“I want to cum on your dick,” you clarify, leaning in, your lips pressing down a gentle, loving kiss on this beautiful forehead of him.

“You sure? I haven’t stretched you beforehand.” He rises from his former crouching position and holds his sensitive length closer to your core.

“I don’t mind, I just want you right now,” you blow out, kissing his free hand.

Satoru blushes — and oh, how can anyone fall in love with this cute little face you want to madly shower with cuddles and kisses? “Can we put it in while I kiss you?” he requests, bringing his lips closer to yours.

You let out a little laugh, pressing a first kiss on his lips. “You’re so cute.”

But something makes your eyes drop lower, and you feel it. Satoru’s hand holds his shaft enough well to tap the tip and the length below on your core, teasing your squelching cunt.

“C’mon, don’t tease me, I want you n— Ah!” He shuts you down by crashing his lips on yours and sliding himself easily in you, stretching you impossibly wide. “S-Satoru, you’re bigger than usual,” you whimper.

Your hands grab his broad shoulder, nails sinking in his compressed black shirt, lips moving on their own to taste yourself on his wet lips. His tender tongue asks to enter you, and you allow him, soft strokes on each other’s tongue.

Satoru moans in the melting kiss, waiting for you to adjust, and starts gentle back and forth hips moves, hissing through his teeth by the sweet, delicious tightness of yours. “You feel so good,” he squeals between kisses. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You gasp, swallowing hard because of the different paces your brain can’t focus on — stolen kisses and perfect pounds into you. It’s so deep, so mastered, that it’s driving you mad and making you see stars.

Breaking the kiss, Satoru wraps his muscled arms around your back and encircles you flush against him, your heartbeat matching with his, and your fingernails slide down his back as you almost lose strength and balance every time his tip brushes against your cervix, etching red scratch marks for sure on his back as soon as he will remove his shirt.

With another buck before pulling out fully, he slides back in and manages to reach your deepest point, making your back arch and cry out. “Satoru, please, I’m so close,” you whine, wincing because of his hips rocking in you faster and harder.

The washing machine sways to the same rhythm, threatening to give way under your weight. Your heavy, ragged breaths fill the air in a kind of steam room. Blood beats at your ears, your gummy walls clenching around his long, big dick without ceasing and have mercy for you.

But as if that wasn’t enough, Satoru slides your top off with a swift movement of his hand to free one of your breasts and taste the nipple. He sucks hard, tongue pulling and swirling at the nub like no other. The action makes you roll your eyes, the overstimulation engulfing you like a wave would.

He then uses his head to tease your nipple with a gentle tug, his cerulean-blue eyes captivated by your curve. You squeal, your walls swallowing up his thrusts inside you, tightening more and more until he gives in and takes you back into his arms, but this time with a hand under your thigh to lift it up and enable him to reach an even more precise and deep angle, making you scream out his name.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” Satoru warns you, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and his jaw tense from clenching. “Please, where—”

“Inside me, Satoru,” you whimper in the hollow of his neck, closing your eyes before the following ride crashes the two of you.

Pussy clenching around his length, you squirt on him with a small cry, and Satoru does likewise, twitching as he grunts and his hips jerk to reach your womb and fill you up with his cum.

Muscles trembling from the aftermath, you pant against him, as weak as after an intense workout. “I’ve missed you so much,” Satoru whispers in your ear, in the same state as you. His large, quaking hands stroke your hair, soothing you.

White strings escape from your full, swollen-lipped pussy, the sound of trickling filling the silence of the room.

“I promise I’ll do the laundry, but please, can we have cuddles?” Satoru demands, blinking down at you with puppy-dog eyes.

You rest your cheek on his shoulder and nod, a smile stretching your lips, as you reach out to stroke his cheek.

“Of course, my baby.”

DING DONG.

The ringing of the front door echoes in your ears and a memory pops into your head, slapping you in the face.

“Wasn’t Suguru supposed to come to borrow the washing machine here because his is broken?”

Satoru froze, flickering his eyes. “Huh?”

a/n: feelin to write something cute and smutty haha! i think writing things easy like this is unwinding me.

see how he’s so cute? 🥹 pls God give me one…

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t

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another-lost-mc · 2 years ago

Text

HEADCANONS masterlist

★ headcanons feature a gn!reader unless otherwise stated

➤ SFW Headcanons

When It's MC's Turn to Cook For the Demon Brothers

Dining With the Dateables

Snacks with Thirteen and Mephisto

Shopping For Beauty Supplies ↳ Lucifer, Mammon, Asmodeus, Beelzebub

When High-Achiever MC Struggles at RAD

When MC Misses Their Sibling ↳ Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Luke, Solomon

When MC Dies and is Reborn in the Celestial Realm

When MC Is Rich AF

When MC Feels Emotionally Numb

When MC Faints/Has a Panic Attack

When MC Makes The Dateables a Kiss Shirt

Going to the Movies

When Movies Make Them Cry

What They Wear To See Barbie

If The Demon Brothers Were Chubby Demons

Caring For MC's Descendants ↳ Demon Brothers | The Dateables

How the Little D's Act When MC Is Dating Someone ↳ Demon Brothers | Barbatos

Shadow-Walking with MC

When The Demon Brothers Hurt MC By Accident

When MC Is A Professional F1 Driver ↳ Demon Brothers | The Dateables + Mephistopheles

The Wild Side ↳ Demon Brothers + Karasu | The Dateables + Azra

When MC Is Scared of Snakes ↳ Leviathan, Barbatos, Mephistopheles

When It's MC's Birthday

Sharing a Birthday with MC

When MC Has a Reversible Mood Plushie

Sunday Routines ↳ Leviathan, Asmodeus, Barbatos, Solomon & Simeon, Mephistopheles

When MC Needs Surgery

The Worst Goodbye: When MC Disappears (Part I)

Welcome Home: When MC Returns (Part II)

➤ NSFW Headcanons

When MC Needs a Little TLC [ gn! + afab!Reader ]

When They Go Down on MC [ afab!Reader ] ↳ Demon Brothers | The Dateables

When MC Gives Them Head ↳ Lucifer, Leviathan, Satan, Beelzebub

When MC Helps Them With Their Heats [ afab!Reader ] ↳ Demon Brothers | Diavolo + Barbatos | Mephistopheles

When MC is Quiet in Bed

When MC Has a Creative Block ↳ Simeon x Reader x Solomon

When MC Steals Their Clothes ↳ Leviathan, Solomon

When MC Sends Them Audio Porn ↳ Demon Brothers | The Dateables + Side Characters

Would They Use a Love Potion on MC? ↳ Demon Brothers | The Dateables

Got Milk? Lactation Kink Headcanons ↳ Mammon | Levi, Asmo, Beel, Belphie | Solomon ↳ Lucifer, Satan, Diavolo & Barbatos, Simeon, Karasu

Their First Kiss with MC

When They Say "F*ck Lucifer"

When They Find Out MC Has a FWB ↳ Demon Brothers | The Dateables

When Solomon Is MC's FWB

Dating a Chubby!Reader ↳ Thirteen | Solomon | Karasu

Late Night Cravings (For MC) ↳ Leviathan, Belphegor

How They Mark MC

When MC is Shy in Bed

Going on a Road Trip with Driver!MC

When They Have a Size Kink ↳ Older Brothers

When MC's Lover Has Wings

Watching the Movie Se7en

Shower Thoughts: Their Bathing Habits

➤ Return to: Obey Me! Masterlist

#jes.admin #masterlist #obey me masterlist

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tasksweekly · 8 years ago

Photo

[TASK 033: TURKEY]

Shout out to anon for inspiring this task! There’s a masterlist below compiled of over 130+ Turkish faceclaims categorised by gender with their occupation and ethnicity denoted if there was a reliable source. If you want want an extra challenge use random.org to pick a random number! Of course everything listed below are just suggestions and you can pick whichever character or whichever project you desire.

Any questions can be sent here and all tutorials have been linked below the cut for ease of access! REMEMBER to tag your resources with #TASKSWEEKLY and we will reblog them onto the main! This task can be tagged with whatever you want but if you want us to see it please be sure that our tag is the first five tags!

THE TASK - scroll down for FC’s!

STEP 1: Decide on a FC you wish to create resources for! You can always do more than one but who are you starting with? There are links to masterlists you can use in order to find them and if you want help, just send us a message and we can pick one for you at random!

STEP 2: Pick what you want to create! You can obviously do more than one thing, but what do you want to start off with? Screencaps, RP icons, GIF packs, masterlists, PNG’s, fancasts, alternative FC’s - LITERALLY anything you desire!

STEP 3: Look back on tasks that we have created previously for tutorials on the thing you are creating unless you have whatever it is you are doing mastered - then of course feel free to just get on and do it. :)

STEP 4: Upload and tag with #TASKSWEEKLY! If you didn’t use your own screencaps/images make sure to credit where you got them from as we will not reblog packs which do not credit caps or original gifs from the original maker.

THINGS YOU CAN MAKE FOR THIS TASK - examples are linked!

Stumped for ideas? Maybe make a masterlist or graphic of your favourite Turkish faceclaims. A masterlist of names. Plot ideas or screencaps from a music video preformed by a Turkish artist. Masterlist of quotes and lyrics that can be used for starters, thread titles or tags. Guides on Turkish culture and customs.

Screencaps

RP icons [of all sizes]

Gif Pack [maybe gif icons if you wish]

PNG packs

Manips

Dash Icons

Character Aesthetics

PSD’s

XCF’s

Graphic Templates - can be chara header, promo, border or background PSD’s!

FC Masterlists - underused, with resources, without resources!

FC Help - could be related, family templates, alternatives.

Written Guides.

and whatever else you can think of / make!

MASTERLIST!

Note: If you’re using this masterlist for casting purposes please do further research before casting any of the following, it was difficult finding sources for most of these and don’t know if they’re ethnically or nationally Turkish. Many thanks.

Female:

Nebahat Çehre (72) Turkish - actress

Turkish (71) Turkish - actress, screenwriter & director.

Demet Akbağ (57) Turkish - actress

Aydan Şener (54) Turkish - actress

Hülya Avşar (54) Turkish / Kurdish - actress, pop folk singer, businesswoman, columnist, fashion designer, magazine editor, professional tennis player & former beauty pageant titleholder.

Zerrin Tekindor (52) Turkish - actress & painter.

Vahide Perçin (51) Rumelian Turkish - actress.

Vendela Kirsebom (50) Turkish, Norwegian - model actress.

Meltem Cumbul (47) Turkish - actress & TV personality.

Lisa Marie Varon (46) Puerto Rican / Turkish - professional wrestler.

Anna Silk (43) English, Turkish, Cypriot - actress.

Tina Kandelaki (41) Georgian, Greek/Pontic/Pontian Greek / Armenian, Turkish - journalist, public figure, TV presenter & producer.

Fadik Sevin Atasoy (41) Turkish - actress.

Songül Öden (40) Zaza - actress.

Nurgül Yeşilçay (40) Turkish - actress.

Ahu Türkpençe (40) Turkish - actress.

Ceyda Düvenci (39) Kırklareli / Thessaloniki - actress.

Maya Jupiter (38/39) Mexican / Turkish - rapper, songwriter & radio personality.

Özgü Namal (38) Turkish - actress, singer, songwriter, director & screenwriter.

Mine Tugay (38) Turkish - actress.

Selma Ergeç (38) Turkish-German - actress, beauty pageant titleholder, model, designer, philologist, psychologist & doctor.

Ayda Field (37) Turkish / possibly English - actress.

Çağla Kubat (37) Turkish - Turkish model, actress & windsurfer.

Zeynep Beşerler (37) Turkish - actress.

Burcu Kara (37) Turkish - actress.

Aslı Tandoğan (37) Turkish - actress & harpist.

Sibel Kekilli (36) Turkish - actress

Demet Evgar (36) Turkish - actress

Nehir Erdoğan (36) Turkish - actress

Nur Fettahoglu (36) Turkish - actress.

Cansu Dere (36) Turkish - actress, model & beauty pageant runner-up

Ayse Tezel (36) Turkish / Anglo-New Zealander - actress.

Sedef Avcı (35) Turkish - model & actress.

Deniz Çakır (35) Turkish - actress

Azra Akın (35) Turkish-Dutch - actress, dancer, model & beauty queen.

Tuba Büyüküstün (34) Crimea / Crete, Turkish nationality - actress.

Belçim Bilgin (34) Turkish - actress.

Didem Balçın (34) Turkish - actress.

Bergüzar Korel (34) Turkish - actress.

Erin Kaplan (33/34) Turkish, Dutch - model & television personality.

Meryem Uzerli (33) Turkish / German - actress & model.

Aylin Tezel (33) Turkish / German - actress.

Beren Saat (33) Turkish - actress.

Bade İşcil (33) Turkish - actress.

Naz Elmas (33) Turkish - actress.

Saadet Aksoy (33) Turkish, Egyptian, Greek - actress.

Pelin Karahan (32) Turkish - actress.

Birce Akalay (32) Turkish - actress.

Funda Onal (32) Turkish - model & dancer.

Berrak Tüzünataç (32) Turkish - actress.

Aslı Enver (32) Turkish - actress.

Seda Güven (32) Turkish - actress

Eda Özerkan (32) Turkish - actress.

Daphne Öz (31) Turkish, some Circassian / Italian, Irish, Cornish, Swedish, Swiss-German - auther & television host.

Alice Greczyn (31) French, Japanese, Polish, Chinese, Korean, German, Irish, Native American, Scotch, English, Greek, Hungarian, Turkish, Swedish and Czech - actress & model.

Hadise (31) Turkish - singer, dancer, songwriter & television personality.

Hande Doğandemir (31) Turkish - actress, TV host & sociologist.

Fahriye Evcen (30) Circassian, her paternal family are Turkish who immigrated from Kavala - actress.

Elçin Sangu (30) Circassian - actress & model.

Selen Soyder (30) Turkish - actress, activist, model & beauty pageant titleholder.

Ezgi Asaro��lu (29) Turkish - actress.

Merve Boluğur (29) Turkish - actress.

Ceyda Ateş (29) Turkish - actress.

Sinem Kobal (29) Turkish - actress.

Atiye (28) Turkish / Dutch - pop singer.

Xenia Deli (27) Moldovan / Turkish - model.

Leyla Lydia Tuğutlu (27) Turkish - actress.

Farah Zeynep Abdullah (26) Turkish - actress.

Hazal Kaya (26) Turkish - actress.

Serenay Sarıkaya (25) Turkish - actress and model.

Neslihan Atagül (24) Turkish - actress.

Gizem Karaca (24) Turkish - actress & model.

Lara Melda (23) Turkish / British - pianist.

Hande Erçel (23) Turkish - actress.

Melisa Şenolsun (20) Turkish - actress.

Sude Zulal Güler (?) Turkish - actress.

Male:

Halit Akçatepe (79) Turkish - actor.

Şener Şen (75) Turkish - actor.

Metin Akpınar (75) Turkish - actor & comedian.

Çetin Tekindor (71) Turkish - actor.

Kadir İnanır (67) Turkish - film actor & director.

Ferhan Şensoy (66) Turkish - playwright, actor and stage director.

Haluk Bilginer (62) Turkish - actor.

Altan Erkekli (62) Turkish - actor.

Erkan Can (58) Turkish - actor.

Ferzan Özpetek (58) Turkish - film director & screenwriter.

Serhat (52) Turkish - singer, producer & television presenter.

Fikret Kuşkan (51) Turkish - actor.

Yılmaz Erdoğan (49) Kurdish - filmmaker, actor & poet.

Erdal Beşikçioğl (47) Turkish - actor.

Halit Ergenç (46) Turkish - actor.

Nejat İşler (45) Turkish - actor.

Necati Şaşmaz (45) Turkish - actor.

Engin Günaydın (45) Turkish - actor & comedian.

Yiğit Özşener (44) Turkish - actor.

Burak Hakkı (44) Turkish - actor.

Cansel Elçin (43) Turkish - actor.

Cem Yılma (43) Turkish - comedian, actor, musician, filmmaker, scenarist & cartoonist,

Kenan İmirzalıoğlu (42) Turkish - actor and former model.

Mehmet Günsür (41) Turkish - model, actor and producer.

Haluk Piyes (41) Turkish-German - actor.

Hal Ozsan (40) Turkish-Cypriot - actor.

Okan Yalabık (38) Turkish - actor.

Murat Yıldırım (37) Kurdish / Arab, Turkish nationality - actor.

Engin Altan Düzyatan (37) Turkish - actor.

Mehmet Akif Alakurt (37) Turkish - actor & model.

Mert Fırat (36) Turkish - actor & screenwriter.

Engin Akyürek (35) Turkish - actor.

Buğra Gülsoy (35) Turkish - actor, architect, director, graphic designer & photographer.

Tolgahan Sayışman (35) Turkish - actor.

Kadir Doğulu (24) Turkish - actor.

Dennis Roady (33) German, possibly other / Turkish - internet personality.

Burak Özçivit (32) Turkish - actor and model.

Arda Turan (30) Turkish - footballer.

Barış Arduç (29) Albanian, Turkish nationality - actor.

Emre Turkmen (28) Turkish - musician.

Deniz Akdeniz (26) Turkish - actor.

Aras Bulut İynemli (26) Turkish - actor.

Çağatay Ulusoy (26) Bosniak / Bolgerian, Turkish nationality - actor.

Skandar Keynes (25) English / Lebanese, Persian, Turkish - actor.

Enes Kanter (24) Turkish - basketball player.

Ekin Koç (24) Turkish - actor.

Hakan Çalhanoglu (23) Turkish - footballer.

Emre Can (23) Turkish - footballer.

Sam Pottorff (21) Arabic, Turkish and White - vlogger.

Güven Kıraç (?) Turkish - actor.

Erdal Özyağcılar (?) Turkish - actor.

Alperen Duymaz (?) Turkish - actor.

Uğur Yücel (?) Turkish - actor, producer & director.

Trans:

N/A

Non-binary:

N/A

Use at your own discretion:

Taylor Marie Hill (20) Irish, Scottish, Turkish, and Native American - racism (x)

-C

#turkish faceclaims #turkish fc #fc masterlist #rph #fc help #task: 033 #task: turkey

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borntoreignrpg-blog · 8 years ago

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informe administrativo.

Antes de continuar con lo que hacías, echa un vistazo a nuestro resumen para mantenerte actualizado con respecto a todos los cambios ocurridos recientemente en el roleplay. ¡Sigue leyendo!

( RECUENTO )

→ Cantidad de personajes actuales: sesenta y seis (66). → Reservas vigentes: dos (2). → Cuentas pendientes: una (1). → Audiciones por aceptar: -.

↓ LINKS DE IMPORTANCIA ↓

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→ Asegúrate de seguir a:

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( EXTRA )

→ Todas las listas se encuentran ahora actualizadas. En caso de notar algún error en las mismas o el recuento, no duden en acercarse a nosotras. → En caso de desear volver al roleplay, si el cupo que utilizaban no se ha tomado, sólo deben pedir refollow junto con la nueva o vieja cuenta de su personaje. → Recuerden abrir el submit.

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coffee-and-geto · 3 months ago

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LET ME WARM YOU UP

summary: satoru comes home after an early morning when he went to the bakery to buy you some pastries, frozen to the bone by the biting early december cold. doesn’t he deserve to find you under the warm comforter where your warm presence hides?

cw: fluff, domestic, gojo has his nose pink from the cold, he’s silly, needy and so in love <3, i have put some pastries i know bc i’m french but ignore them if you don’t like croissant (what’s on ur mind) or pain au chocolat (i agree on this).

wc: 721

When Satoru enters the bakery — his body draped in a long coat, head wrapped in a knit cap, and half his face hidden behind a large scarf — the gentle chime of the entrance bell feels like a sweet melody mingling with the warm, sugary scent of the quiet, early-morning haven.

Behind the sparkling glass displays are heaps of pastries that make his mouth water. From chocolate croissants to apple turnovers, the variety of treats teases his senses as he approaches the kind, tiny baker, who barely reaches his chest.

“Good morning, young man,” she coos like a grandmother, tilting her head up to look at him. “Feeling like something sweet this early?”

Six o’clock in the morning — was it too early?

Satoru would camp outside the bakery if it meant sharing pastries with you.

He hums thoughtfully. “I’d like a brioche, a chocolate croissant, a croissant, an éclair, and a strawberry tart,” he says, distracted by the vibrant colors tempting him to buy out the entire bakery.

The baker grabs a bag and carefully places his order inside, smiling warmly.

“Will that be all, young man?”

Satoru nods.

“Alright.” She names the total price and hands him the large bag once he pays. “Are you planning to eat all of this yourself, young man?”

A smile capable of melting ice stretches across Satoru’s face, despite being hidden behind his scarf. “I’ll share it with my girlfriend.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you.” After he pays, the baker hands him a blue lollipop, the kind that colors your tongue. “A boy like you, who takes such good care of his loved ones, deserves this.”

Satoru accepts it with a word of thanks before heading home, where you’re unknowingly waiting for him, still tucked beneath the warm covers of your bed.

He enters the apartment silently, closing the door with care and removing his shoes and coat in near-perfect quiet. In the kitchen, he wastes no time arranging a breakfast tray, loading it with the pastries he bought and a cup of tea and coffee.

He performs the task with an adorably proud smile, humming cheerfully at the thought of sharing a warm breakfast with you under the blanket, where you’d thaw his December-chilled body.

With the tray prepared to perfection, he carries it to the bedside table and sets it down gently before slipping into the bed. The combination of the soft blanket and your warmth, still lingering in the sheets, begins to ease the cold from his body. His stiff, frozen arms wrap around you, rousing you from sleep.

“Toru?” you whisper, your eyes fluttering open as a yawn escapes your lips.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Satoru murmurs into the crook of your warm neck.

You shiver at how cold he feels. “Did you go out?” You turn to wrap your arms around him, planting a kiss on his nose, pink from the cold.

“Brought pastries,” he hums. “Wanna eat with me?” He blinks at you cutely, his snow-dusted lashes framing eyes as deep and blue as the ocean.

“You did?” The corners of your mouth turn down as you pull him closer. Satoru’s habit of buying things for you without needing to be asked makes your heart ache in the sweetest way. “Of course, my love.” You pepper kisses all over his face. “Love you so much.”

He grins so cutely you want to crush his head in your arms.

Minutes later, you’re both sitting up in bed, the makeshift tray perched on your shared lap as you indulge in a perfect breakfast.

Through the bedroom window, the first snowflakes of December fall onto the balcony, covering it in a white blanket that matches your lover’s hair. The sky, equally white, might’ve seemed dull and cold, but sitting beside Satoru, who is devouring almost all the pastries, brightens the weather.

Once your stomachs are full, Satoru burrows under the blanket, pressing his face against your pajama-clad stomach. A giggle escapes you, your chest shaking gently with the sound.

“What are you doing?” you ask, raising a playful eyebrow.

“Cuddling,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the comforter.

“You look more like a whiny cat, you know.”

“If a whiny cat gets cuddles, then I am one.”

Your laughter bubbles over, warming Satoru, who nearly purrs as your fingers scratch at his scalp.

a/n: hello guys :)) i know it’s been like two weeks w/ anything but let’s forget that, hmm? so 1st december is the birthday of my bsf haha and sadly the end of fall for me... (i’m depressed bc of this). but, i’m in the mood to write everything fluffy, etc. (saying this while my brain is mentally preparing a big angsty fic for the coming weeks bwahahaha). hope you guys have a nice week and see you soon <33

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar

@monokaix

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coffee-and-geto · 5 months ago

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satoru can be a clingy partner.

like, really clingy.

he likes having something of yours that watches over him or keeps him company when he can’t smother you between the muscles of his long arms. usually, he loves it when in the morning — before you both head off to work — you spritz on your favorite perfume, and he does the same with his. but he always craves that little piece of you.

so he almost (definitely?) begs you to spray a little of your fragrance on him. that way, he’ll have a part of you with him all day. and when that’s no longer enough, he drops to his knees in front of you, hugging you while whining, face buried into the plush of your belly.

“just one, pleeease!”

“satoru, your students are going to—”

“BOOHOOOOOO!” he cries, waterworks of tears streaming from his eyes behind his black blindfold.

so, after this morning tantrum, he’s beaming with the most adorable smile, while you pepper his face with kisses from your pink gloss, leaving shiny marks on his flawless, milky skin.

“gojo-sensei, why do you have kiss marks on your face?” yuji asks, furrowing his brows as he approaches the training yard.

satoru, his face peaceful and still dreamily dazed by your kisses, snaps out of his trance.

“haa?”

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coffee-and-geto · 6 months ago

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𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍!!

➤ including: satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna.

➤ summary: when they found your naughty books and want to reproduce the scenes with you…

➤ warnings: +18 MDNI, smut, nsfw, sex (p in v), thighs riding, cowgirl, oral (f + m), fingering (f!receiving), semi-public sex, edging, office sex, childhood bedroom sex, reverse cowgirl, backshot, creampie, missionary, degradation (whore), marking (m!), overstimulation, dick drunk, riding, teasing, anal (f! receiving), true form! sukuna, hair pulling, fanart by the queen @/yunonoai.

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Satoru furrows his brows and purses his pretty pink lips, deeply focused. “Hmm… Are you sure it’s like this? I think she was in reverse rather than—”

“Toru!”

“What?” He shifts the book that’s hiding his handsome face from your view. Your cheeks are flushed with a warm, yearning desire, your lips swollen from hungry kisses, and your eyes have been tearing up for several minutes because your boyfriend has stopped stimulating you, leaving you craving his touch. He gives you a playful smirk and chuckles. “If you want me, sweetheart, you just have to come and get me.”

“You activated your Infinity!” you whine, trying for the tenth time to reach his pale, soft, bare chest. A barrier that gives you the feeling you’re about to touch him but keeps your fingers from making contact, trapping you in an endless loop where you’ll never touch him.

“That’s your punishment for scolding me for being horny all the time while you’re reading this!” Satoru delights in the desperate look you give him. “And you still dare call me shameless!” He waves the book in front of your nose as you whimper, weakly trying to snatch the book from his hands, but in a feeble, pathetic attempt. But finding that the punishment has lasted long enough, he deactivates his Infinity, and you end up collapsing onto his legs, your breathing ragged, but dying to have him inside you. He bursts out laughing as you climb onto him, though he doesn’t place his hands on your hips like he usually does.

“Toru… Please…” you whisper, moaning softly as you slide his hard, thick cock inside you, your drenched walls greedily swallowing him up.

“Tut-tut.” He shakes his head and lets you adjust to him, leaving you with only the sensation of your pulse throbbing against his delicious length. “You’re gonna fuck yourself stupid on this fat cock of mine, ’kay? Like the good girl that you are.”

A sob escapes your lips as you start to fuck yourself on him, your breasts bouncing slowly and gently under Satoru’s amused, mocking gaze. It’s much more effort than usual, and he doesn’t miss a chance to notice it.

Satoru crosses his arms behind his head on the pillow and laughs heartily. “C’mon baby, ride me like you mean it,” he purrs, your inexperienced thighs gripping the muscles of his hips. “A lot harder when I’m not helping you out, huh?”

Frustrated tears roll down your cheeks, and a pout forms on your lips. You sniffle as you try to bounce on his cock buried far too deep in your tight little cunt — preventing you from going faster.

But maybe he’s had enough too, because his hands grip the flesh of your hips, digging his nails in hard enough to leave definite bruises before bucking his hips into you — causing you to let out a yelp of pleasure as he hits your sweet spot deep inside. “So deep…”

“Deep, huh?” Satoru pulls you into a fast, rough rhythm, his hips slamming into you as you cry out his name, echoing through the room, fucking you in cowgirl just like in your book. “It’ll be like this all night, sweetheart.”

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

“S-Sugu… Please…”

“Please what, princess?” Suguru murmurs, his nose rubbing against your soaked panties, his tongue licking your swollen folds through the fabric, savoring your intoxicating scent. The tip of his nose gently presses on your swollen clit, causing your hips to buck against his face.

“I can’t take it anymore, please, I need you…” you moan, your trembling arms hugging a pillow tightly to keep yourself from going crazy.

But Suguru’s hands pin your plush thighs against the mattress, obstructing any attempt you make to struggle. “But the scene was just as slow as I’m doing it, darling,” Suguru whispers, his lips pressed against your wet, clothed slit. “I can feel how close you are if I really eat you out.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest before he slowly slides your underwear down your thighs, finally gaining access to your pussy, now openly exposed to him. He whistles at the sight of your fluids, almost like transparent glue forming a delicate web between your already parted lips and your entrance, which opens and closes around nothing.

“I know, Suguru, but please, I need you to do something or— Ah!” you’re cut off as he captures your bundle of nerves between his lips, sucking shamelessly — the wet, slurping sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. A shiver runs through your body, and you moan uncontrollably as he devours you eagerly — his tongue alternating between licking and sucking your clit, and the tip of his agile, teasing tongue tracing quick circles around your dripping hole.

“Sugu! I’m close… s’close,” you cry out, squirming as gasps leave your lips in sweet sounds that make his dick twitch in his pants.

“Mind if I add a finger?” He glances at your pussy, on the brink of release, lifting his head from between your thighs for just a few seconds. “Or two.”

“No, Sugu— cumming!” you mewl as you immediately cum on his thick fingers, your tight cunt clenching around his gummy walls.

He gasps at the sensation of your tightness and the flow of your fluids trickling down his hand and wrist.

“And what about my cock?”

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

“Please, darling, anyone could—”

“I know, I know, Ken, just cum for me, will you?” you purr, your tongue swirling around the angry red tip of Kento’s dick, so thick and swollen, threatening to burst and release his seed with every stroke of your fingers or suck from your soft mouth.

Nanami tries to control his breathing, his hands usually occupied by a pen at his desk in his workplace, his perfectly straight nose bent over documents to fill out or sign — but today, he’s a grotesque image of what his employees are used to seeing: cheeks flushed, one hand under his desk, fingers tangled in your hair, and his tie lazily loosened to allow him to breathe.

“Darling, I’m close I can’t—”

“C’mon, baby,” you coo, one of your hands stroking his base while your mouth takes in more of his cock, sucking him properly to make him cum as quickly as possible.

“D-Darling— I—”

You pull his length out of your mouth with a pop, a string of saliva mixed with his precum connecting the tip of his dick to your lips. “You promised to redo the scene, didn’t you? So cum for me, ’kay? It’s perfect if someone catches us because—” But the growl Nanami emits, along with the pulsing of his dick in your fingers wrapped around him, tells you he’s far too close.

You take him back into your mouth, using as much space as he allows, bobbing your head up and down until he sighs your name and spills out in unintelligible words, his balls tightening as he cums in your mouth, painting the inside of your cheeks white — the thick, sticky, warm strands filling you up until your throat has no choice but to swallow everything.

Nanami’s Adam’s apple nervously bobs as he swallows, his eyes lowering to see your disheveled head under his hand, tangled in your hair, and your satisfied expression under his desk.

You gently remove his softened cock from your mouth and kiss the tip. “Thank you, Ken. Another round before your secretary arrives?”

His dick immediately hardens again at your words.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

“Nuh-uh, doll, don’t make a sound, this is an important call,” Toji whispers, a finger pressed against your trembling lips that threaten to give in at any moment. “That’s what you said you wanted, right?” he chuckles, his lips curling into a smirk as he keeps his dick buried deep inside you, while his other hand holds his phone to his ear.

A few rings later, Toji’s boss picks up, and he continues the call while fucking you at a steady, deep, and unapologetic rhythm. His hips slap against yours, pushing your patience to its limits.

After all, you’re the one who started this, right?

“I want to redo that scene,” you had whined.

And now you have it — Toji taking you in missionary, your legs desperately wrapped around his firm hips, his hand sliding from your lips to your throat, gently squeezing around your neck. He slowly reaches that sweet spot inside you, making your back arch, an involuntary whimper escaping your swollen lips.

He gives you a warning look before fucking you dumb without mercy, continuing his conversation with his boss as if he were at a café, his hips pounding into you relentlessly. “Yes, of course, Shui mentioned my next mission, but I wanted more detailed information.” He licks his upper lip before smirking, his emerald eyes never leaving yours, begging for the call to end. He shakes his head and keeps applying gentle pressure to your throat, threatening to make you let out a gasp of pleasure under the delicious roll of his expert hips inside you.

A white ring forms around the base of his thick, veiny cock just before he notices how tight you’re getting, and he has to control his breathing to avoid sounding strange during the call with his superior. But your cunt, obsessed with him, swallows his shaft with ease, making it even harder to remain impassive. To the point that his boss asks if everything’s alright when Toji lets out a low grunt, his top teeth sinking into his lower lip, making the gesture even hotter thanks to the scar that crosses his mouth.

“No, no, boss, I’ll call you back later, I’ve got a little situation,” he murmurs before abruptly hanging up and tossing his phone aside, grabbing you by the hips in a grip you can’t resist. “See what you’re doing t’me? Huh? You wanted it, now take it all the way, doll.” But your cunt clenches around him, pushing him so deep that you cry out his name, writhing on the bed like a kitten — you’re sure he’s fucking your stomach now.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

“Baby— I— Please…” Choso babbles, his pretty blood-red eyes rolling back in their sockets from the overstimulation of his cock buried deep in your wet, tight, gummy walls.

The poor thing has no control over the fast and overwhelming pace of the pleasure you’re giving him — the sound of your skin slapping against his with every drop of your hips in your reverse cowgirl position. The idea to fuck your sensitive boyfriend in his childhood bedroom, the one he once shared with Yuji, could only have come from you.

Who would have thought you’d take advantage of a family dinner to do this? It’s a good thing Yuji is busy playing video games in the guest room with his best friend, Aoi Todo. Their laughter and complaints about losing a match carry through the walls to your room — a fear that Choso might have, the poor, adorable sweetheart who whimpers and whines like the virgin he was not too long ago.

“Babe— Ah! Please, they’re going to hear us…” Choso whines, his voice muffled against a pillow on his bed.

You chuckle, a pleasured grin on your face as you bounce on the dick that swells and throbs deep inside your pussy, hungry for him. “Poor Cho… You promised we’d redo the scene from my book, didn’t you? And it takes place in a childhood bedroom, hmm?” You speed up the pace, the tip of Choso’s cock now hitting your cervix with each slam back in. You bring a hand to your mouth to stifle your sweet sounds. “You feel s’good, baby, doing so good f’me…” you purr, glancing over your shoulder to admire the messy state of your boyfriend; his eyes filled with tears from overstimulation and his mouth open, letting out sounds that make you tighten around his cock. “G’nna give it to me? Huh, baby?”

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum,” Choso whimpers in a small, submissive voice. “Please, please, please, make me cum, I want to cum in your pussy,” he begs before letting out a small sob.

“Fill me up, Cho, c’mon,” you encourage with a smile, bringing a hand to your sensitive clit, rubbing in firm circles, your ass pressed against his pelvis. “That’s my good boy, give me your cum.”

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

“Ah! Kuna, please,” you moan, a grimace of pleasure twisting your face as the King of Curses pounds roughly with his hips in your tight holes. His two cocks — one in your pussy and the other in your asshole — abuse you, thrusting as if it’s the last time he’ll ever fuck you.

“Can you obey me for a minute and shut up?” Sukuna growls, the back of his head resting against the wooden door of the pantry where the servants store food for the King of Curses.

Of course — reading one of the books from the estate’s library made you beg your husband to fuck you right in the kitchen downstairs — just like the fucking king or prince in the kitchens of their castle — and who was Sukuna to deny you that? That’s how you ended up here, your head buried between your arms as your husband stuffs you raw and rough in a pantry where apples and carrots taunt you.

The scene might seem comical, but not when you’re terrified of being caught by the servants or the staff — though Sukuna has never really give a fuck about that. The cramped space is as hot as your cunt and asshole, which still manage to take every slam Sukuna delivers inside you — his heavy balls slapping against your clit and your ass. He’s ready to fill you and make you scream if your pleas didn’t hold him back and if the pantry hadn’t turned into a sauna. Instead, he prefers to edge you, not letting you fall over the edge of orgasm.

Sweat sticks to both your bodies, where the slapping of his balls makes enough noise to attract the staff — if you ignore your muffled moans and gasps.

“Kuna! Mmph! M’close! Please, make me cum!” you whimper, clinging to one of his four arms that knead your breasts and pinch your nipples — the other two busy holding your hips already marked with red scratches and blue hickeys, and the last one making circles around your clit.

“Is this how the other princess got stuffed too? Begging like a whore to cum for her charming king?” Sukuna’s chest shakes with a rough laugh, quickening his pace until your vision blurs with dazzling stars and your cunt spasms around one of his dicks, while he follows, shooting his white seed in thick ropes deep inside you until it overflows despite still being inside you and the door moving with him — fucking you through your orgasm.

Footsteps echo in the kitchen and you freeze, along with him.

“Is someone there?” a valet’s voice asks, not far from the pantry.

And Sukuna glares at you — should he kill him or remain silent?

➤ a/n: if anyone knows the @ of the black dividers pls tell me i didn’t save it...

➤ tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison

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