#Morning Warm Up Exercise

[fitnessmantram]

Morning Warm Up Exercise #5 #exerciseathome #morningexercise #yoga #exe...

You might be eager to begin your exercise routine right away and get on with your day, but you shouldn't just jump right in. Beginning an exercise with "cold" muscles can prompt injury. It means a lot to begin every exercise with a warm-up and end with a cool-down — and that goes for true beginners, old pros, and in the middle between.

Read More : How To Do Box Squats Like A Professional

[gomzdrawfr]

Hehe

[wigglebox]

Warm Up

[robertasgym]

Quick Warm-Up Routine: Prep Your Body for Any Workout

You don’t just jump in a car and turn it on, do you? Same goes for your body. A quality warm-up makes every workout feel better, allows you to move smoothly and prevents injury.

A very fast but very effective routine! Some dynamic stretches, some activation drills and controlled movements to wake your muscles up. It’s about preparing your body to perform at its best.

So don’t skip it! Add this to your daily routine and see how much better your workouts feel. Stay consistent, keep pushing, and let’s get stronger together! Good luck and have fun!❤️💪 **Don’t forget to share your experience and progress in the comment section. If you want to be notified when I upload a new video, make sure to subscribe to our channel. I upload new videos everyday from Monday to Saturday!

[3nn-express]

Importance of Regular Exercise: A Pathway to Health & Happiness

In today’s fast-paced world, it’s easy to let exercise slip down our list of priorities. With busy schedules and endless commitments, finding time to hit the gym or go for a run can feel like a luxury we simply can’t afford. However, the truth is that regular exercise is not just a luxury – it’s a necessity for our physical, mental, and emotional well-being. In this blog post, we’ll explore the importance of regular exercise and why it should be an essential part of our daily lives.

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[eclipsedechoesofmywords]

"Of All Things"

[Bucky Barnes x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: When Bucky gets a new haircut, you find yourself struggling to keep your composure—and your thoughts—under control.

Warnings: Fluff, mild teasing, mildly suggestive(just a few lines)

Word Count: 1.1k words

A/N: Is this a safe space to admit that Bucky with short hair is my favorite look of his? I love all of his looks(that man can't help but look perfect at all times) but the short hair did something to me🤧 Writing this to get a break from all the joaquín reqs

It did always seem like Bucky was hell-bent on making you go insane with everything he did. That godforsaken haircut was just about your last straw.

Bucky walked around, seemingly unaware of your eyes on him. His undercut accentuated the curve of his jaw, and the way the shorter strands at the top fell just slightly over his forehead made you want to scream. Or yank him into a supply closet. You hadn't decided yet.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee like he hadn't single-handedly ruined your ability to form coherent thoughts. When he raked a hand through his hair—again—you nearly dropped the mug you were holding.

"You good?" Sam's voice snapped you out of your trance. He followed your gaze to Bucky, smirk widening. "Oh. Oh. You're real good, huh?"

"Shut up," you hissed, turning to the sink to hide your burning face.

Bucky glanced over, catching your eyes. His lips quirked into a half-smile, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Morning," he said, voice rough from sleep—or maybe just to torture you further.

"Morning," you managed, sounding strangled.

Sam snorted into his cereal.

---

"You know..."

"I don't," you cut off Sam immediately.

He snickered. "If you wanna keep looking like you wanna climb Buck like a tree, maybe be a bit more subtle."

"Shut up," you said, looking pointedly down at the file you were supposed to be reading.

"Seriously. Just ask him out."

"No. Shut up."

"I could set you up."

"Absolutely not." That sounded like a threat coming from Sam Wilson.

He looked offended. "I can set you two up on a date easily."

"I would actually rather jump into the ocean," you said decidedly.

He huffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm not that bad."

You make a face. It was his turn to mutter 'Shut up'. You couldn't help but laugh.

---

The next few days were an exercise in self-control. Bucky's hair wasn't just a haircut—it was a distraction. Every time he walked into a room, your brain short-circuited. The way he'd tilt his head when listening, the way the sunlight caught the sharp lines of his undercut, the way he absentmindedly tousled the longer strands on top… It was criminal.

You were convinced he knew. How could he not? The man was a supersoldier, for crying out loud—he had enhanced senses and tactical awareness—yet he remained infuriatingly oblivious, chatting with you about mission reports or the merits of Thai food over pizza like he wasn't the reason you were losing your mind.

It all came to a head during training.

You were sparring in the gym, Sam perched on a bench nearby with a bag of popcorn he'd 'borrowed' from the kitchen. Bucky wasn't wearing a shirt, sweat glistening on his shoulders as he dodged your half-hearted jab.

"C'mon, doll," he teased, smirking as you narrowly missed his ribs.

Doll. The nickname punched the air from your lungs. His eyes crinkled, playful and bright, and you swore his biceps flexed extra hard just to spite you.

You lunged again, but your foot caught on the mat. Bucky's metal arm shot out to steady you, his grip warm and firm on your waist. His face was suddenly inches from yours, his breath against your cheek. "Easy," he murmured, voice low. "You're gonna hurt yourself."

Sam's popcorn crunching stopped. The gym felt suddenly, unbearably hot.

"I'm—fine," you stammered, jerking back like he'd burned you. Bucky frowned, brow furrowing as he studied you.

"You're flushed. You overheating?"

Sam choked on a laugh. "Oh, she's overheatin' alright."

You shot him a death glare. Bucky, still oblivious, reached for a towel and tossed it to you. "Take five. Hydrate."

As you gulped down the water, Sam came to stand beside you, wickedly grinning. "You're pathetic."

"I hate you," you muttered.

"He's gonna figure it out eventually."

"He won't. His idea of flirting is asking if I want extra grenades on missions."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, well, maybe you should try the direct approach. Y'know, like normal people."

"And say what? ‘Hey, Bucky, your hair makes me want to ride you into the sunset'?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "I mean, it's a start—"

"No."

---

Later that evening, you found Bucky alone on the common room couch, flipping through a worn copy of The Hobbit. His hair was still damp from a shower, curls soft and loose.

He glanced up, patting the space beside him. "Hey. Sam said you wanted to talk about the op coming up?"

That bastard.

You sat stiffly, hyperaware of the heat radiating off him. "Uh. Yeah. Extraction points. Y'know. Logistics."

Bucky nodded, serious. "Right. So, we'll need—"

You weren't listening. His thumb was tracing the edge of the book's spine, his other hand gesturing vaguely as he spoke. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, and dear God—

"—what do you think?"

You blinked. "Huh?"

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "You okay? You've been… off."

"Off?"

"Jumpy."

You swallowed. "Just tired."

Bucky set the book down, turning to face you fully. His knee brushed yours. "You sure?"

The concern in his voice undid you. "Your hair," you blurted.

He froze. "…My hair?"

"It's—different. Good different! Like, really good. Not that it wasn't good before! But now it's… uh…" You gestured vaguely, face burning.

Bucky stared. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face—the kind that made your stomach flip. "It's what?"

"Shut up."

He leaned closer, voice dropping. "You've been staring at me for days. Thought I'd done something wrong."

"You did," you muttered.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"You did," you repeated, unable to stop the words now that they'd started. "That haircut is… it's mean. Like you're actively trying to sabotage my productivity." 

Bucky's grin turned downright smug. He shifted closer, the weight of his thigh pressing against yours on the couch. "Mean, huh? Didn't realize my barber choices were a tactical threat."

"Well, they are," you huffed, crossing your arms.

"Right," he laughed.

You swallowed, courage sparking. "Sam said I should ask you out." 

Bucky snorted. "Wilson's a menace." 

"But… is he wrong?" 

His eyes snapped back to yours, blue and blazing. The playfulness vanished, replaced by something hotter, more intent. "No," he said roughly. "He's not." 

You didn't know who moved first. One second, you were drowning in the space between his breaths; the next, his mouth was on yours, fierce and sweet. The book tumbled to the floor as his hands cradled your face, metal and flesh equally gentle. His lips were chapped, his kiss a slow burn that melted every coherent thought worse than his hair did.  

When you finally pulled back, foreheads pressed together, Bucky chuckled—a warm, disbelieving sound. "Should've gotten this haircut months ago." 

You swatted his shoulder, laughing. "Don't you dare change it back." 

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, stealing another kiss.  

Somewhere down the hall, Sam's victorious whoop echoed. "Took you two long enough!" 

Bucky groaned, resting his forehead against your collarbone. "I'm gonna strangle him with his own wings." 

"Later," you promised, threading your fingers through his stupid, perfect hair.  

A/N 2: I'm considering writing part 2 of this as a bucky x reader x sam. imagining em pouncing on sam has me.

[shaisuki]

cw. breastfeeding + established relationship.

notes. please do excuse me for this bland of a drabble and requests are open now for lads men.

It's two in the morning.

The light from the bedside clock glares at him. Slowly, Caleb rouses in his sleep. Putting the blanket besides him and making sure his significant other is warm before getting up.

His footsteps light as he approaches the crib. The airplane mobile dangles and a small lullaby can be heard but aside from that is the movements from the crib. Soft wiggles and there's a coo turning into a whimper.

“Hup!” Caleb silently exclaims as he picks up his baby. “There we go, peanut.” The baby slowly opens it eyes and Caleb can see the tears beading from the corners of it. “There, there. You need your mama don't you.” Cradling the baby in his arms and he can hear a fit coming.

Caleb turns around to bring the baby to its mother which is now awake. Fluffing the pillows behind to be more comfortable while you feed your baby. “Here's your mama.” Caleb gently placed his child with you in your arms. The infant whimpers for a bit before latching to your nipple and silence engulfs the bedroom except for the infant suckling on your breast.

“I was about to wake you up, pipsqueak.” Caleb softly mutters to you. Settling besides you while he watch his wife and child. The nickname was still around even when you're both parents and you a mother to his child. You run your fingers through the thick hair of your child. Three months and it was thick as his father's.

“Hmm” You hummed. Your mind still hazy with sleep. By the way you hold and breastfeed your baby, it was now muscle memory and since Caleb assists you with the feeding.

The baby with Caleb's hair and eyes with a little resemblance to you, suckled softly. His little fists, clenching and unclenching on your chest. A soft sigh escaped your lips. The warmth of your baby on your chest and Caleb's behind you gave you the comfort despite the sleepless nights.

“Go back to sleep now, pipsqueak.” Caleb takes your baby after it unlatches to you. Full of his mother's love and milk. You didn't protest and went back to rest your head on the pillows.

Caleb stayed for a few minutes. Making sure his baby is burped and comfortable on its crib before rejoining you. His arms wrapping around your body. Creeping under your shirt and rubbing soft circles on your round belly. His fingers grazing over the stretch marks. You turned around to meet his gaze.

“Thank you, Caleb.” You sleepily mutter. “Ssh, it's my responsibility. You don't have to thank me. Carrying my baby and being my wife is already enough, pipsqueak.”

At the start of your pregnancy, Caleb made sure to never let you lift a finger. Mandatory exercises good for you and the baby is all the activities you did the whole duration of your pregnancy. He even took a leave as your due date looms and now, when you're tired and still recovering from the birth.

“Rest now, okay? Our baby's going to wake up soon.” Pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead and with a nod, you returned to slumber with Caleb.

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

Your Mars sign can indicate the activities you engage in regularly. Here’s the breakdown based on element:

Fire Mars

Go to the gym, take walks, engage with different people, go to clubs, attend parties, hang out with friends, go on random adventures, create artwork, make music, gamble, work a labor job, exercise at home, meet new people, go on dates, ask for people’s numbers, work on your passions, hook up with people, attend gatherings, spend time with family, play video games, cook, public speaking, play pick-up sports, dance, drive to get away, have debates, take pictures and upload them to social media, spend time in nature, try new food spots, attend events.

Earth Mars

Follow morning and night routines, work long hours, study for school, work towards goals, play an instrument, nap, go out to eat, order food delivery, spend time in nature, get nails and hair done, visit a spa, do Pilates or yoga, sit in a sauna, take a warm bath, shower routine, go on dates, be intimate with a partner, read books, write, clean your space, improve an interest, check emails, attend appointments, run errands, organize and manage others, help out a friend or family member, work on your resume, look for job opportunities, shop, spend time with family.

Air Mars

Socialize with new people, come up with theories, read books, search questions on Google, use ChatGPT, think of ideas to execute for the future, learn something new, solve current life problems, talk to friends or family, help others with their problems, flirt with someone, try to get everyone on the same page, dress up, apply makeup, visit aesthetic places, work on a project with a friend or family member, talk on FaceTime, message throughout the day, use your phone or PC, interact with gadgets at home, play video games, take time for yourself, volunteer, use social media to bring awareness to social causes or humanitarian issues, do puzzles or mentally stimulating games, debate, share opinions, date different people.

Water Mars

Stay home in bed, cuddle, eat at your favorite food spots, binge-watch movies or TV shows, take naps, cook or bake, listen to music for long periods, journal, spend time with friends and family, bring food, gifts, or something needed to others, decorate and set up your space, be a listening ear, have existential crises, do tarot, read astrology content, reflect on situations that happened earlier in the day, week, or month, engage in intimacy, go on dates, vent to a trusted person, cry, do art, daydream, play video games, have a drink of wine, smoke weed, or spend time alone.

[trashytracktales]

Hiii, I’m not sure if your requests are open, but if they are, could you write something with Lando and Reader where they have been dating for just a few weeks, haven’t had sex yet. One day they’re working out together at Lando’s house in Monaco (the room with the mirror from the video I Ate and Trained Like Lando Norris for 24 hours). Reader is doing squats with her back towards the mirror and Lando can’t help but stare at her ass and he gets hard / flustered so he stops from doing his exercise and reader asks him what’s wrong and before he answers she realises he’s horny so she teases him - this time on purpose- and then they fuck in that room on the floor

In the heat of it | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for trusting me enough to bring this to life, it was... something 🥵

🌸 summary ──── They’ve been dating for a few weeks now, but the time was never right for them to get intimate. During a playful workout together, Lando gets caught staring, sparking a moment that leaves them both realizing just how deep their connection actually goes.

🌸 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🌸 rating ──── explicit

🌸 category ──── F/M

🌸 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, suggestive/flirty behavior.

🌸 word count ──── 3.6k

🌸 date ──── Nov. 12, 2024

IT DOESN��T TAKE long before Lando starts to regret his decision. It would have been much easier to invite his girlfriend to have lunch together. That would have saved him from a constant dry mouth and irregular heartbeat every time he feels her eyes accidentally landing on him.

The smooth floor and sophisticated equipment in his personal gym are softly bathed in the morning sun that seeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Monaco’s streets are still peaceful at this hour, considering it’s the middle of the week, and the port is sparkling in the sunlight.

The room usually has a subtle scent of cedar and rubber, fresh and energized, but now it carries a sweet honey scent, borrowed from her presence.

They are already halfway through their warm-up. She’s pulling a resistance band around her thighs, stretching before they dive into the heavier part of their routine, her focus completely on the exercises he’s walked her through. But, of course, a huge part of her focuses on how Lando touches her, purposely, to guide her when her posture doesn’t match the exercise.

Even in simple gym shorts and a T-shirt, Lando somehow manages to look so effortlessly attractive, with his curly hair a little messy, face flushed just enough from their recent sets, and his labored breathing after putting in the effort. He’s all energy, fluid in his movements, though he’s clearly trying to keep his pace casual.

“Lookin’ strong,” he teases, flashing a grin as she adjusts her stance.

The girl shrugs, “I’m just that good at following instructions. Although, I think having one of the best trainers in the area helps, too.”

Lando lets a chuckle out, “I won’t go easy on you just because you kiss-ass. But it’s cute to see you trying.”

Even though they have only been dating for a few weeks, there is an undeniable spark between them two, especially in a setting where every glance and skin-to-skin contact feels amplified by the intensity of their exercises. Her sports outfit leaves no room for interpretations, hugging her curves and defining her lines, and Lando’s imagination is stimulated every time he turns his gaze towards her.

He’s now down on the floor, holding a plank, his core engaged and muscles taut as he fights to hold his body up and spine straight. She’s supposed to be timing him, but the second he shoots her a cheeky grin, she decides she can’t resist a bit of fun; in her defense, he started it. With a simple touch, the seconds freeze on the screen of his phone, then she places it on one of the boxes stored in the corner of the room.

“Hi there,” says the girl in a mellow tone once she sits down in front of him just inches apart, propping herself up on her elbows so her face is level with his.

Lando raises his eyebrows, trying not to laugh as his shoulders shake slightly from the effort of holding his body weight. “Don’t,” he warns her, breath coming in controlled puffs.

“I’m not doing anything,” she smiles innocently, kicking her feet in the air while inching a little closer until her nose almost brushes his.

He laughs at her bad acting, his arms starting to shake a bit more. “Outrageous is what you are.”

She pouts just as Lando dips his head down, managing to steal a playful kiss. Their lips meet briefly, soft and warm, before he pulls back up to maintain his form. It makes her sigh in frustration, the ghost of a kiss not nearly enough for her. If anything, it only leaves her wanting more.

Luckily, he doesn’t pull back when she cups his cheek in her palm, pressing her mouth on his once more, his giggles mixing with hers as he tries to keep his balance. Savoring the feel of his lips and the way Lando grunts softly into the kiss, she can feel that this one is more deeper and slower — much real — making her shiver. It seems as though everything else disappears, the feel of each other reminding them both why they decided to give the relationship a shot in the first place.

“And you are so fun to corrupt,” she admits, finally getting up to give Lando time to recover.

After a few sets, she finally moves on to squats, and Lando follows her positioning herself in front of the mirror. It wasn’t even supposed to be there, but he sometimes uses the gym as a storage room for random packages. This one, specifically, came in the mail a few weeks ago and he didn’t have time to hang it in the hallway, where he initially planned. So, he simply let it rest against the wall in his gym room, and it’s been there ever since, forgotten.

Giving the circumstances, he is seriously thinking of leaving it there for good.

Conveniently, Lando decides that now is the perfect time to start his Russian twists, so he bends over to collect a dumbbell off the floor, then sits down on the yoga mat. Right in front of her.

Unaware of the effect she’s having on him, he watches her go through each squat with his eyes trailing down on the reflection of her ass in the mirror, an intense warmth spreading over him as he tries to focus on his own exercise. It is quite innocent, he’s just respectfully looking, until it isn’t.

Until he feels it in his boxers.

Until he almost drops the dumbbell, which catches her attention.

Lando tries to ignore it, though, to nonchallantly brush it off, telling himself that it’s natural and that he’s just admiring her physical appearance. Anyone in his shoes would do it. However, his thoughts start to wander, images flashing uninvited as his heart rate quickens for reasons far beyond the exercise.

“Are you okay down there, hotshot? What are you fighting?” she asks curiously, raising her head just enough to catch the dazed look on Lando’s face.

Her voice pulls him back, his breath catching for a moment, “Yeah, never better.”

It’s his husky voice that gives it away. Right after, she notices a lingering gaze, and the soft pink creeping across his features as his eyes are fixed ahead. She stops, fixing her posture and straightening her back as she turns to catch his gaze in the mirror. She realizes exactly what’s going on in a matter of seconds, a little grin forming in the corner of her mouth.

“Am I too dictracting, Lando?” she purrs, her question — and the fact that he knows she caught him in act — not helping at all.

“No,” he lies, “But I think you’re killing it with those squats.”

“And if I turn around to finish my set, what then?” she whispers, a challenge glinting in her eyes as she brushes the tip of her tongue against her lower lip.

His breath is shallow the moment he decides to abandon his exercise. “Then you would be killing me,” he admits with no restraints. “So, by any means, proceed. Please.”

She glances over to see Lando lying flat on his back, one arm draped dramatically over his eyes, as if he’s in serious pain. His other hand is splayed over his stomach, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm. It’s still funny to see him like that, but then she notices the way his chest rises and falls a bit too fast, and her eyes drift lower, catching a glimpse of the growing bulge in his shorts, an unmistakable proof of what she’s actually doing to him.

Suddenly, all the amusement disappears from her face, being replaced by a warmth that wraps around her neck that’s slowly rising to her cheeks. Her heart is starting to race, small impulses between her thighs forcing her to close them together.

Swallowing hard, she crosses the small space to kneel beside him, gently pulling his arm away from his eyes. His lashes flicker open, meeting her gaze with a mix of embarrassment and desire. And so much lust.

“How can I help you?” asks Lando, his voice rougher than usual, trying to keep things light, though the hint of vulnerability shows in his eyes, and it’s not that hard to read.

She chuckles nervously, “The question is how can I help you?”

In response, Lando uses the same hand to wrap his fingers around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She feels his hand squeezing a little, the other one moving to her waist, hesitating before pulling her completely on top of him, without breaking the kiss. His tongue slips firmly into her mouth, just as it has done so many times before, but now it feels somehow different. Somehow, they both know that the kiss is meant to lead to something much more intense, because there’s nothing stopping them anymore.

In the intimacy of his apartment, without interruption, Lando lowers his hands to her waist, rubbing her against him. Slowly. Repeatedly. The pressure forces them to moan in unison, a brief taste of the pleasure they are about to share. His hands then drop lower, roaming over her thighs, then back down to her ass, cupping it in his large palms.

He breaks away just enough to murmur, his voice low and almost reverent, “That enough of an answer?”

“Positive,” she replies, feeling his breath hitch as she shifts on top of him, straddling his hips, her hands splaying over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

Her lips find his again, sweet and intoxicating, each kiss sending sparks to her core. The new position makes her feel him much more firmly between her legs, taking Lando by surprise when her hand lowers to cover his length, massaging him through the thin material of his shorts.

“Fucking hell,” his lips stutter against hers, while rocking his hips into her touch.

“Yeah…” she agrees, breathing hotly above him, “Did I do this to you?”

Before Lando gets a chance to even think of an answer, she slips her hand under the elastic band of his boxers, taking him in her hand, feeling him in his entirety; deliciously soft skin, warm and ready, and so painfully hard.

It makes her ache for him.

She pumps his cock in her hand a few times, enough for her to feel how he shifts under her. It takes her a lot of self-control to stop herself from taking him in her mouth the second she hears his sweet little panting, her thumb rubbing gently over his swollen tip.

The workout itself had left Lando’s muscles burning, but her touch it’s something else entirely, igniting a heat in him that burns deeper than anything he’s felt before. Five more minutes enjoying the same high and he can give up cardio completely. Guaranteed.

Slowly coming back to his senses, Lando realizes that he has free will, so he slips his hands under her sports bra, palming her hungrily until he feels her nipples hardening under his touch. He breaths heavily as he rolls them between his fingers, managing to make her respond with a soft meowl, her grip on his cock losening.

That’s his cue to take the lead, pulling her bra over her head in a quick move, and flipping their bodies over so that now he’s hovering above her, eyes filled with need while looking down at her.

“Hi there,” Lando copies her tone from earlier, feeling a little fraction of the power she had over him.

She wants to talk back so badly — one of her sarcastic little comments that she knows he loves — but all she can do is let out a pathetic whimper between her lips when his mouth finds home on her bare breast. At that, Lando feels a shiver running down his spine, looking up at how she closes her eyes in pleasure, arching her back more against his mouth.

“Driving me insane with your pretty ass, baby,” he says, breathing heavily, managing to cover her body in a thin layer of goosebumps, “And your pretty fucking nipples.”

“Lando…” she lets another cry slip out, opening her eyes to look at him.

The image that greets her makes her breath catch in her throat. The way he sucks on her nipple while playing with the other one, and the way he looks up at her through his eyelashes. It’s all too much. She ends up wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him down with her. Then she runs her hands down his back, tugging at the edge of his shirt, tossing the useless material carelessly to the floor before pulling him closer for another kiss.

Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, skin on skin — who says heaven isn’t real?

But if that’s heaven, then what can she name the feeling she gets the moment his hand slips into her gym shorts and his fingers brush against her soaked entrance? Because it feels way too fucking good, much better than she expected, and certainly much better than her own hand whenever she pictured his face while fingering herself.

Lando starts slowly, spreading her wetness around her pussy, then fucking his fingers in and out, while cautiously watching her facial expressions changing. It’s not taking him long before finding that sweet, sweet spot that makes her roll her hips into his hand, desperation painted all over her face.

“Lan…,” she starts panting, “That’s—yes, right there.”

He hums proudly, sealing his mouth to hers, while parting her thighs with his knee so he can spread her more in front of him. Feeling herself open to his touch, so easy and wet, he no longer feels self-conscious about the way she’s so quickly tunring him boneless under her gaze. He realizes that the feeling is mutual, and it makes him want her even more.

If that’s even possible.

The sound of his fingers repeatedly fucking into her is all that anchors her in the present moment, but the second Lando feels her squeezing around them, he stops so he can silently ask for her permission to take the last piece of her clothing off.

She nods in a rush, swallowing the lump in her throat in anticipation.

Every inch of her is now bathed in the soft, golden light streaming through the window. Warm shadows are cast along her curves, the light outlining each delicate contour of her body as though the sun itself is painting her in real time. The image is so powerful yet vulnerable as she stands there, her figure glimmering with an almost unearthly serene confidence. Lando is utterly captivated by how ethereal she looks, like a goddess come to life, the kind he never imagined he would be close enough to even touch, let alone enjoy. He feels like he’s witnessing something sacred, something so incredibly rare, and the awe he feels is mixed with gratitude that she’s here with him, letting him see her in a such perfect lighting.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Lando finally manages to say, hoping that he hasn’t started drooling all over her in the meantime. “All of you.”

“Your turn,” she says in a muffled voice, slightly bashful at the way he stares at her like he wants to devour her. Which is not far from the truth.

He agrees that it’s a fair request, realizing that the only thing separating them now are his own shorts. Without protesting — because that would be so fucking dumb considering how hard he is — Lando gets rid of them with the speed of a perfect qualifying lap.

Matching the same pace, Lando’s hands slide around her waist, his fingers pressing gently into her hips as he guides them both to the side so they can face the window. Or that’s what she thought. Confused at first, she’s frowning at him, then follows his gaze, lost in the direction of their reflection, understanding immediately what he really wants: a show. A show just for them, in which they can lose themselves together, without limits.

She sighs at the sight of their hot, naked bodies, the way he aligns himself with her, and how he’s finally pushing inside, enough to hear her whimper. She watches as he stands above her, his hands gliding slowly over her sides, up her arms, grounding her in his touch. The image of them together, framed in the soft glow of the room, feels surreal, so intimate and vulnerable in a way that’s completely new for both of them.

Lando pauses, pulling out at her little whimper, then pressing back in, but just the tip.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, “You’re so fucking wet it keeps slipping out,” adds Lando in a low tone, so turned on that it makes her clench around him.

To her frustration, the speed at which Lando pushes back inside might as well be negative, causing her to explode with how needy she becomes in the meantime. But just as she’s about to encourage him to sink further, he buries himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

“Lando,” she says as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, “You… feels so good, shit,” she takes a moment to breath into his skin, then she turns her head to catch their reflection once again.

Lando is already looking, and when they make eye contact through the mirror, he starts fucking her slowly and gently, as if he could break her.

“See how silly you look for thinking we won’t match?” he sounds so amazed by how easily she opens up for him, over and over again, with each steady thrust of his hips, “See that? Taking all of me so well, baby.”

“Mhm,” she cries out at the way his cock throbs against her walls, because she knows it’s way too slow, even for him.

It’s simply agonizing.

“So perfect around me,” he states, “Can’t believe I lasted that long. Should’ve fucked you from the first night.”

At this point, he’s just rambling, but the thought makes her stomach tie in a knot.

“You would’ve let me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” she speaks, already drunk on the way he feels inside her, “I would have let you fuck me in the plane bathroom, on the way to Imola. And back in your driver’s room, when Oscar caught us kissing. And last week, outside the club. Fuck. I wanted you to fuck me there so bad.”

His mind goes blank with all the lost opportunities, causing him to gradually increase his pace, the sound of them connecting so obscene.

“Wh—” he almost chokes on words, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You… stressed about work. I didn’t want to be… distraction,” she tightens her legs around him, keeping him inside her, the words losing their meaning as Lando shifts his position, wrapping his arm around her thigh to open her up even more for him. “Oh. Yes, like that!”

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he swallows hard as he squeezes roughly at her thighs. “I’m so close.”

She knows that will leave marks on her skin, but nothing beats the pleasure of having Lando fucking himself so deep inside her, that her vision starts clouding.

All common sense went out the window the moment she stepped through his door, anyway.

She can feel his breath warm against her neck, hear the soft hitch in his breathing as he leans in, his lips brushing her shoulder, never breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. Lando’s hands are making their way to cup her ass, pulling out all the way, before fucking back in, all over again, until he finds the perfect rhythm between their bodies. He moans loudly, pressing his upper body on her, their scents blending together and sweat transferring from skin to skin. They move so in sync, completely attuned to each other, and the sight of their shared pleasure, reflected back at them, turns everything into fireworks, her mind completely empty. Except for how well she’s being fucked.

“Lan—Lando,” she’s so close to sobbing that she shuts her mouth at the sound of her voice, thinking it’s too pathetic to whine as she cums around him, her release dripping all over between their bodies.

The wet sound her pussy makes gives Lando way to fuck in deeper, taken by surprise that she finished without any warnings whatsoever. He grips her ass one more time before he stills inside her, his cock throbbing, and pulls out right before he starts leaking, resting his cock against her thigh, his entire length coated in her release. His cum drips from his tip to her inner thigh, making him groan while he fixes his gaze on the mirror at the image of them.

She buries her fingers in his curls after he finally collapses on top of her, their heavy breaths echoing throughout the room. With his head on her chest, he can feel her heart racing, gradually slowing down, and lets out a soft laugh as she shifts a little under him.

“We’re so fucking matching, baby. Let’s gooo!” exclaims Lando, exhaust evident in his voice.

She feels her cheeks warm, “I think you’re a little biased right now,” she jokes.

Lando shifts slightly so he can see her face, brushing a thumb tenderly along her side. He smiles softly, the usual spark in his eyes softened by something deeper, so gentle. “I’m just so happy for us.”

Her heart flutters, and she feels him sink even closer to her, threading his fingers through hers.

“And very sweaty,” she adds with a chuckle.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure that’s you,” he teases, letting the moment pass slowly, then calling out her name in a serious voice.

“Mhm?” she hums while turning to look in the mirror, watching him getting comfortable on top of her.

“Where do we go from here?” asks Lando.

“Your bedroom, I hope. The floor is killing my back.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[shoumachisblog]

SORRY NOT SORRY

Male Reader x Chaeryeong ft Ryujin

Tags: Anal, Ass Gaping, Cunnilingus, Noncon(?), Morning Sex.

Prequel

This is such a mess and fucked up lookin fic since I'm in hurry but I'll try to do a better fic next time 😔

The sounds of doorbell ringings wake you up from your slumber and it's getting on your nerves. Whoever stands right in front of your door thinks that ringing someone's doorbell early in the morning was a wise choice, they do really needs a few punches on their face. Ryujin is still deep asleep besides you that you can hear her snoring. You grabbed the blanket and completely covered her naked body to allow her to sleep even more comfortably.

You swing your feet onto the floor and get yourself out of the bed. You put on a short that you took from a pile of clothes that you left on the chair inside your room, and heading out towards the front door. You did some small exercise on your way to get the blood inside your body flowing.

Without looking at the indoor monitor to see who it is, you opened the door with anger that has built inside you for the past few minutes but your anger immediately disappears when you see Chaeryeong, who had pink open-shoulder sweater and blue denim jeans that did a good job at showing her bottom body line.

“Oh! Hi, Chaeryeong." You greeted her with a smile. “What can I do for you this early in the morning?"

“Hi, Oppa...." Chaeryeong greeted you with a somewhat awkward smile. “I'm here to pick up Ryujin. She asked me to pick her up this morning if she didn't come back home last night."

“Oh, come in. She's sleeping inside my room right now." You replied, opening the door wider to let the younger woman in as she walks by, you can smell her pungent yet bubbly perfume on her.

Chaeryeong wasted no time taking her heels off and you must admit that you can't take your eyes off the view right in front of you right now. Her long, shapely legs that looked strong and well-trained, then her ass that betrayed the innocence of a woman who's in her early 20s, perfect for being intensely fuck over and over again for a whole night like there is no tomorrow. You can see why Ryujin is completely obsessed with her.

“Oppa, where is your room???" Chaeryeong asked, looking around your house cluelessly.

“Uh.... Y-yeah. Head this way." You walk towards your room as Chaeryeong follows you from behind.

Once you and Chaeryeong stepped into the bedroom, the younger woman were a bit startled by the sight of your bedroom. The aftermath of you and Ryujin spending the whole night doing nothing but making love were everywhere. She quietly approached the bed, watching her girlfriend sleeping soundly, her face calm and undisturbed. Chaeryeong let out a heavy sigh, she bent over and gently shook Ryujin's shoulder. “Babe, wake up." but Ryujin didn't even stir. “Shin Ryujin, wake up. We need to go or Yeji unnie will get mad at us!" Chaeryeong tried again, shaking the older woman a bit harder and raising her voice slightly which was a useless attempt, but Chaeryeong doesn't seem to give up either.

Meanwhile, you stood behind the younger woman, arms crossed, a smirk playing on your lips as you enjoyed the view in front of you far more than you probably should. Your eyes followed the curve of Chaeryeong's ass as she was completely unaware of the effects of her movements. You felt a familiar stirring in your pants as you drank in the sight. You bit back a groan, closing between you and Chaeryeong quietly.

Chaeryeong, still clueless about the unintended show she was giving, was completely caught off guard when she felt a firm, warm pressure against her ass. She glanced over her shoulder and her eyes completely widened in shock when she saw you already placed your hands on her hips and your crotch slowly grinding against her.

“O-oppa...? What are you...." You brush Chaeryeong's hair with one of your hands, “Shhhhhh.... It's okay. You don't have to wake her up yet." You said, continued the delibrate, teasing movements. “I'm sorry, Chaeryeong ah. I couldn't help myself when your ass looks so damn good when you bend over like this." You purred. Chaeryeong's heart raced as she felt the prominent bulge of your arousal through your short. “Oppa....." Chaeryeong whined breathlessly, squirming in your grasp. “You can't. Ryujin...." You lean down to press a hot kiss on her shoulder, pay her weak protest no mind, your grip on her hips tightening as you ground against her become more insistent. The rough friction already made Chaeryeong's knees become weak. “I know you like this. Ryujin always told me about how easy it is for her to make you become obedient to her and I bet I can do the same too, I guess I'm right." Chaeryeong's cheeks burned at your filthy words.

“She always talks about how delicious you are, Chaeryeong ah. Your lips, your breasts, your pussy, and most importantly, this juicy ass of yours." She could feel herself growing wet with arousal, but she tried to maintain some semblance of propriety. She placed both of her hands beside Ryujin on the bed to act as a support to her weakening body. “Ryujin might wake up anytime soon, so please stop Oppa...." Eventhough she says it like she doesn't want this to happen but she made no move to stop you. “You don't have to worry about that as long as you keep your mouth shut." You smirked.

Her eyes widened with agonizing shock when you did a quick job on the buckle of her belt and pulled her denim and panties down together without any effort. You are finally able to see with your own two eyes the ass that Ryujin is always obsessed with. Her ass is a thing of pure, unadulterated beauty. Two perfect, round globes of succulent flesh that begged to be squeezed and kneaded by eager hands, that not even your hands were enough to encompass such a huge and juicy ass. Your fingers sank into the soft flesh of her buttocks, gently grasping and spreading them before releasing them so they jiggled softly. It was a mesmerizing spectacle flesh that could drive even the most chaste of men wild with lust.

“Stop playing around and eat her ass." Both you and Chaeryeong turned to see Ryujin rubbing her eyes before yawning as loud as possible. “B-babe?? This is not what you th-" before Chaeryeong could say anything, Ryujin changed her position and let Chaeryeong's upper body lay down against the bed with her head completely trapped between Ryujin's legs. “Shut up and put that mouth on work right now." She commanded. Chaeryeong, who was still in shock with her girlfriend's sudden action was greeted with Ryujin's pussy. The older woman's musky flavor exploded across her senses, instantly addictive. Chaeryeong let out a moan as she began to lap up at Ryujin's pussy with increasing enthusiasm, soon lost in a haze as she worshipped her girlfriend's most intimate place.

You, unable to hold yourself back any longer, parted Chaeryeong's cheeks, revealing the tight pink bud of her anus nestled between them while taking your short off with your other hand. You aimed the head of your already eager cock at your target, you made eye contact with Ryujin and she nodded in approval as you started to push it slowly inside. The younger woman let out a muffled yelp of surprise against Ryujin's pussy, trying to squirm away from the unexpected intrusion but Ryujin, being a good girl she is, kept Chaeryeong firmly in place, grinding her dripping pussy against Chaeryeong's face.

Chaeryeong cried out, the vibrations only served to heighten Ryujin's pleasure, making her writhe against the younger woman's mouth. Her hole clenched down on you like a vice, refusing to yield but you are relentless so you applied a bit more pressure, forcing the tight ring of muscle to stretch around your cock. “Fuck, this is amazing...." You groaned, feeling Chaeryeong's incredible tight ass hugging your cock. You pulled back a little and thrust forward with a bit of force, buried yourself to the hilt. “Don't go easy with her, Oppa. I want to see that hole gap as wide as her mouth." Ryujin cooed, palming her own breasts while making sure that she kept the younger woman's face completely buried into her pussy.

A choked sound leaves Chaeryeong's throat when your dick pressed against her most vital spot inside her asshole. You were moving so fast, bombarding her with everything that made the younger woman weak. Her back arched and the obscene sound of your cock churning through her tight heat filled the room. She can't think, speaking has become an issue and the dual sensations of you plowing her ass and Ryujin's pussy grinding against her face are driving her to the edge, pushing her closer and closer to her limits. You could see rapture on Ryujin's face, enjoying the pleasure that she receives from her girlfriend, letting out filthy, encouraging words to Chaeryeong. “Yes! Get your tongue nice and deep inside me, baby...." It didn't take long for Ryujin's pussy to start to quiver and clench around the younger woman's tongue and you can feel Chaeryeong tightening around your cock.

Time lost all meaning as you continued to thrust in and out of Chaeryeong, and the younger woman could do was let herself getting fucked by you in the ass while making sure her mouth keep working on her girlfriend's pussy. Her eyes never left Ryujin's face, who was panting and smiling happily, already reaching her own climax a few times now, but soon went to the back of her head when the cock that was her first ever cock, mercilessly and completely impaling her. Stuffing Chaeryeong to the hilt, but without warning, your cock began to spit out hot, powerful jets of thick cum that easily coating the insides of her asshole into white. It is an orgasm so powerful that your face scrunches up with your mouth still petered open and your hips slowly continue to pump one after another hot jets of your thick potent seed until you pull out of her with a pop noise.

Chaeryeong's asshole now was left gaping open, a slow dribble of your cum oozing out of her abused hole. You let go of her and stepped back a bit, allowing the couple to enjoy their climax. You finally look at Ryujin, “Your girlfriend's ass without a doubt is truly amazing.... and tight....."

Ryujin grins get warm and silly. “I know. That's why she's mine and now yours too." and both of you just laughed.

[fitnessmantram]

Morning Warm Up Exercise #4 #dailyroutine #morningroutine #morningexerci..

A warmup step by step fires up your cardiovascular framework by raising your internal heat level and expanding blood stream to your muscles. Heating up may likewise assist with diminishing muscle irritation and reduce your the risk of injury.

Read More: Forbidden Weight loss Secrets 

[pinkcharmette]

𝜗𝜚 my extensive morning routine - for the girlies who need their alone time ,, especially before a hectic day ++ free printable !!

drink water

this is an absolute game-changer ! bonus if its warm or room temperature, really gets the metabolism going as well as soothes your throat !!

make your bed

this makes my room look MUCH neater, and gives me peace of mind + incentive not to get back under the covers and doze off again TT

meditation

another thing that calms me down greatly and gets me focused and set for the day, i really recommend lavendaire, her meditations are top-tier and she has several lengths to pick from

morning yoga

debloat yoga or stretching is a must for me, it helps aid my digestion as well as reduce bloating in the morning.

exercise

i like to do either shirlyn kim, april han, chloe ting or momomi workouts in the morning ending with a hinafit's full body stretch that's twenty minutes long. i use chloe ting's workouts as cardio mostly and then a set of targeted hiit from momomi and relaxing pilates from shirlyn kim and april han.

i am also trying to go on walks in the morning as well TT

skincare + dental care

my skincare routine in the morning is cleanser + toner + hydrogel + sunscreen + matte sunstick + lip balm and my dental care routine is herbal toothpaste + fluoride toothpaste + mouthwash. i wash my hands between and before/after steps.

shower routine

i use a pumice stone and sugar scrub in the shower to exfoliate along w baby soap and shower gel to clean up. i apply three layers of moisturizer + coconut oil on getting out !!

reading

in the mornings, i like to either annotate classics or read my weekly self-help book or just read educational nonfiction and take notes in my commonplace journal about them.

journalling

i fill out five affirmations, five things i'm grateful for as well as my intentions for the day. i also write down what would make my day great, as well as habits to focus on (at least three)

planning

i plan w/ my planners, notebook and wall calendar spread as well as notion and a habit app, as well as google sheets.

that wraps up this post, and here is the printable checklist spanning four days

[httpsserene]

𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

˖♡ - ̗̀ ⇢ listened to heart to heart by mac demarco on repeat while doing this writing exercise at two a.m. happy reading, loves x

⌕ join taglist | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

lando snores when he sleeps on his back.

he doesn’t snore when he’s on his side, when the curve of his body cradles yours.

like this, his face nestles into the nape of your neck, nose and lips brushing the skin tenderly. his chest radiates warmth against your back, spilling through your skin and warming you from head to toe. he sacrifices the arm tucked under your head, knowing it’ll be dull with numbness come morning. his other arm drapes around your waist, his large hand splayed on the softness of your belly, drifting upward at some point in the night to hold the plushness of your chest.

the first morning you woke with his hand resting on your bosom, he murmured a sleepy explanation into your skin, feels nice. and, it was nothing more than that.

like this, the only sounds you hear are the snuffles of his breath, warm and fuzzy on your neck.

lando snores when he’s deeply asleep.

he doesn’t snore when he rests his eyes, when he leans onto any surface to nap.

like this, whether it’s a chair, couch, floor, table, or tire stack—if he can close his eyes for a few seconds, he’ll be unconscious within the minute. by far though, his favorite napping spot has to be you.

lando will seek you out for the pure purpose of shutting his eyes for a moment. he crawls into your arms with his eyes already closed and asks, put me to sleep?

you massage his scalp, nails scraping along his crown gently, untangling the curls that your fingers get caught in. your other hand scratches up and down the length of his back soothingly. you speak to him softly, about anything that comes to mind and if you’re lost for words, you hum.

he’s never down long enough to reach deep sleep. his body twitches with hypnic jerks as his sleep cycle begins.

like this, naps are when lando’s silent. he extends the length of his snooze session by not handing the team a map to his location, the marked path of his snores erased.

lando snores when he’s on his back and deeply asleep.

like this, he lies flat with you curled up to his side. your head rests on his chest, the steady beat of his heart amplified with your ear pressed close. his arm around your back anchors you to him. your arm lays across his torso and your leg hooks around his.

lando is called to sleep first, as always. there was a time where you were jealous of how quickly he drifts away but now, you fight unconsciousness to wait for him to reach a deep slumber.

because if you do, you’re rewarded with a snore. the sound is throaty and nasally, it rumbles through his chest and interrupts your focus on the pumping of his heart. aptly, you’d compare it to an idling engine.

snoring is annoying to most people, for good reason. it’s disruptive, loud, and if the repetitive noises prevented you from getting your own sleep, you’d have lost your mind already.

but to you, it’s proof that lando is resting well. that his sleep is restorative, that his body is recovering, that his immune system is strengthening, and that his worries and stressors are far from mind. so, you listen to him snore for a few minutes.

however, you don’t allow yourself to treasure the rumbles for long—long term snoring can lead to other risks later in life.

you don’t want snores to be the reason you aren’t allowed a lifetime with lando.

so, you slide off of his chest, huffing quietly as you strain to shift the limp weight of his prone body onto his side. it takes effort, eventually trapping him in the embrace of your arms, throwing your leg around his hip, and tucking his head under your chin.

like this, his snores taper off into nothingness and the little strength you had left to keep your eyelids open is diminished.

lando snores when he’s in your dreams. the raspiness of his exhales mimicked by your subconscious mind calms you. you are able to rest well knowing that he’s doing the same.

© httpsserene - do not repost. photos in header from pinterest.

[illyrianbitch]

Breathe

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel has a panic attack. You help him through it.

Warnings: panic attack pov, symptoms of anxiety (heavy breathing, dissociation, bad mean internal narration), lots of talks of fear, breathing exercises, comfort/care

Word Count: 3.6k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel didn’t notice it at first— not really. 

But his shadows did. 

They curled in close, drawn silent and taut, as if bracing for something, getting ready to soothe him like a newborn babe.

It always started quiet. Or, it used to, when it happened more often. Like pressure building— something soft at first, something creeping.

Azriel shifted in his seat at the end of the table, half in shadow as he often was.  

He blinked once. Twice. 

He realized, rather quickly, that he was too warm.

Not the kind of warm that settled into your bones on a sunny day. Not comfort. No, this was the kind of warmth that crawled across his skin. Under it. Sticky, stifling. His leathers suddenly felt too tight, like his chest couldn’t fully expand. 

He shifted again, pushing himself to focus on Rhysand’s voice once more. On the words his brother, his High Lord, was speaking.

Nothing was wrong. Not really.  He was seated where he always sat, in the same chair, in the same meeting room, listening to the same details about the same rotations and intelligence reports. Nothing was out of place. Everything was all as doomed, as dismal, and as hopeless as it had been recently. 

They were losing a war. And Azriel knew it. 

The conversation turned toward intelligence failures– intercepted reports, broken leads.

Azriel couldn’t stop his thoughts from growing louder. Faster. Those were another failure on him. On his abilities, his spies. He’d fucked up. Again, and again. The one thing he was good at, the one thing he was supposed to do— and he couldn’t. 

No, no. Stop. He couldn’t afford to think like that. He’d been doing better. Azriel, deep in his rational mind, knew it wasn’t his fault. Not entirely, at least. Koschei was unpredictable. His devoted followers hadn’t been something anyone could’ve predicted — Children of the Blessed who had found another ruler to worship. Another god to bow to. That wasn’t on him.

But it was… wasn’t it? It felt like a failure.

His shadows stilled around him, began calling to him in the way only they could. But Azriel couldn’t pay attention. His mouth was dry now. His hands were cold.

And there was something curling in his chest. A pressure. A discomfort. A wrongness inside him, like something off-center. He was sure of it. A flaw, like some thread pulled too tight. 

Az tried to anchor himself. Tried to focus on the sound of his brother’s voices, the crinkle of paper beneath his hand. But his thoughts were racing ahead — spiraling. 

The room was too loud.

He gripped the edge of the table. Attempted to draw in a deep breath. When it resisted, when his lungs protested against the strain of his ribs— broken many times before, he opted for flexing his fingers. Uncurled them. Tried to breathe through it once more.

This was pathetic, Az thought bitterly, the sharpness of his own anger swallowing up all other thoughts. The soft voice that tried to tell him he wasn’t to blame for everything was drowned out. It sounded so much like a younger version of himself. And something else, too— a voice that sounded awfully like his mother. 

Azriel had been fine this morning. Hadn’t he? 

So why, now, was he in such pain? Why was his throat tight? Why couldn’t he breathe?

He needed to breathe.

None of this was real. It was all in his head. It would pass. 

He was fine, he repeated in his mind, even as his wings twitched– betraying him before he could catch them. A subtle flex at first, a slight stiffening in his membrane. Defensive, instinctual. 

He tucked them in closer to his back, as if he could subconsciously make himself smaller, less visible. 

He was losing it. Gods, he was losing it and he couldn’t even stand without drawing attention—without someone noticing, without Rhys or Cassian giving him that look.

His wings spasmed again—this time sharper, a visible shudder that raced down the spine between them. Panic, the primal kind, began to bleed into the edges of his breathing.

Not real. Not real. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

He barely noticed when Rhysand’s voice faded into nothing, when the world outside of his own body dulled to a low hum. His vision blurred, not outwardly—no, that would’ve been merciful—but inside his mind. Thought tangled over thought until all that remained was one screaming, splintered thing: move.

Azriel refused to give in to that weaker, fearful side. He refused.

So, instead, he forced himself to lift his head– to act like he was still present. He gripped the edge of the table harder, forcing another breath through lungs that refused to expand. He forced his body to stay still even as every part of him screamed to run.

His eyes caught yours immediately.

You weren’t speaking. You hadn’t been speaking for a while—Az realized dimly that you’d fallen silent when he had.

You were staring at him, a brow furrowed in confusion, eyes darkened with worry. Real, devastating worry— written across your face like you’d felt his unraveling in your bones, like you knew exactly what he was fighting.

You always did that, Az thought briefly. Noticed things. Noticed him. Even when he tried to disappear, buried himself in shadows and distance and the anger only he knew how to hone, you still saw him.

And you were another thing he’d fucked up. Another thing, another person, he’d failed.

His panic hit him like a punch to the chest.

A wild, churning thing inside him lurched loose—sharp and wrong and too much.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. 

Not here. Not now.

Azriel tried to push to his feet smoothly, tried not to let the room tilt sideways around him. The scrape of his chair on the floor was deafening. His wings flared slightly behind him — a startled, instinctive reaction — before he forced them down again with trembling effort.

He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Couldn’t.

He just needed to get out. Get out.

By the time he stumbled into the hallway, the panic was a roaring thing in his chest. His wings kept twitching, muscles seizing like they couldn’t decide whether to shield or flee. His shadows seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat, gathering in dark, frantic swirls at his feet, then dissipating and flickering against the walls, like they were trying—desperately—to anchor themselves, to pull him out of the fear gripping him.

The world narrowed to the thud of his boots and the pain in his chest. He was shaking now — his hands, his arms, his breath. He couldn’t get a full inhale. He couldn’t slow down. His mind was spiraling. He didn’t know where he was going.

Get out. Just get out. Get out get out get out.

He reached the end of the corridor, but his vision was still tunneling. He staggered sideways, shoulder slamming into the wall. They were getting closer. Tighter.

Get out.

He needed air. Real air.

Needed out.

He winnowed. All instinct, like a broken wild animal on the run from something it knew it couldn’t beat. And then—he landed. He didn’t even know where he was going until the cold hit him.

Dirt. Grass. Night air.

He fell to his knees in it.

Hard.

It knocked the breath out of him. He doubled over, fingers clawing into the earth. Trying to ground. Trying to focus. Trying to breathe.

Stupid. Stupid. This doesn’t happen. You’re fine. You’re not a child.

But he couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t stop the rising panic clawing up his throat.

You’re a joke. You’re unraveling. You’re slipping and they’re going to see. You’re a liability. A fucking mess. You’re going to ruin everything—

He shouldn’t have been like this — he’d trained for worse, he’d handled worse. His shadows crowded him, trying to ground him, to pull him back, just as they did when he was three hundred and covered in blood. Twenty-two and angry. Eight and afraid.

It didn't work. They were just more noise. The pressure behind Azriel’s ribs sharpened. His skin itched. He couldn't tell if it was sweat or fear crawling over him.

A cold wind rushed over his skin, sudden and powerful. And for a second—just a second—it grounded him.

Then the panic surged again. Harder.

His fingernails dug further into dirt, the movement straining and pulling at the tight skin at his hands, the raw tendons and everything that was wrong with him. 

He couldn’t fucking see anything. Couldn’t focus. Azriel was sure his heart was breaking itself against his ribs. He pressed his forehead to the ground, desperate to disappear into it. The skin between his shoulders was buzzing, crawling with invisible ants. The old, familiar impulse to tear his way free, to snap bone and tendon if it meant getting out—getting away—scratching out the thing inside him he couldn't reach.

Somewhere, deep in the marrow of him, the boy he'd once been was crying. Somewhere, even deeper, the soldier he'd become was roaring at him to stay still, stay quiet, get over it.

Azriel was vaguely aware of the wetness on his cheeks. Of a choked gasp that sounded too much like him. His shadows were scared now, concerned, louder as if they were trying to be louder than the voice in his head. But it was no use. 

His body was too small and the panic was too big.

And then—

A sound. A shape.

His name, maybe.

But it didn’t sound right. Didn't sound like anything.

It felt, almost, as if Az was trying to hear underwater— trying to breathe it in and choke.

He jerked away from the voice, instinctual. He didn't want to be seen. Not like this.

But then it came again. Warm. Gentle. Familiar. His shadows darted towards it.

“Azriel?”

And for the first time, he felt it. Felt you.

His eyes blinked open—wild, unfocused—but the world began to sharpen.

Not all at once. Not clearly, at least. But enough. Enough to see you there, from the corner of his eye, approaching him slowly, breath white in the cold air. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and pressed his palms flatter against the earth. His wings half-flared without permission. 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

It wasn’t working.

You’re weak. You’re not enough.

Your failures are going to get them all killed. Koschei. Koschei. Koschei. What if he kills them all? 

A flutter of heat brushed against his shoulder. He briefly registered the movement, somehow coherent enough to piece together the fact that you were crouching beside him. He could only imagine how pathetic he looked, a warrior, a spy— a feared male brought to his knees by his own damaged mind. 

For one harrowing moment, he wanted to snarl at you. To bare his teeth and tell you to go where you’re needed, to leave him alone— Because he didn’t want your pity. He didn’t want your help. He didn’t want to admit that he needed it. If he admitted it now, so vulnerable and exposed in front of you— embarrassingly so— you’d realize, for a second time, he wasn’t worth it. 

But he would never do that. He didn’t want to push you away again. 

A wave of shame hit him flat in the chest—flooding his system. Azriel forced his wings against his back until the muscles screamed. He gave a tight shake of his head, managed to say between jagged breaths, "I'm fine. Go home."

Your hand hovered at his back, near his wings. Gently pressed. He was shaking. 

He turned his face away. “Please.”

“Azriel,” you said again. Closer. 

Something crumbled in him when his shadows returned to his wrists, floating in soothing circles. He squeezed his eyes shut. Breathe. He just needed to breathe. Count, like his mother always taught him to. Trace the patterns of his shadows. 

But gods, it wasn’t working.

“I can’t,” Azriel rasped. His voice was barely there. 

A few seconds later, your hand was on his cheek, thumb brushing his jaw. You tilted his face toward yours.

“I’m right here,” you said. Your eyes were wide. Pleading, almost. Like he was lost and you were begging for him to find you again. 

And he would, wouldn't he? Find you, that was. In every lifetime. 

He blinked. It didn’t feel real. He didn’t deserve this tender touch.

 “Az, can you look at me?”

“I can’t—I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” 

You reached up, brushing a hand through the strands of his hair at the front — a soft, slow rake of your fingers like you were trying to soothe him back to himself. The touch startled him. His eyes opened wider, found yours again, even as his chest still heaved with shallow, broken breaths.

“I’m—” he sucked in a breath, but it hitched, harsh and shallow. “I’m not okay.  I’m— I’m scared and I don’t know what I’m doing and I can’t keep pretending—”

He was unraveling. Words spilling out of him like blood from a wound.

“I’m not enough. I’m not—stable. I can’t help with Koschei. I can’t find anything. People are dying. I’m letting everyone down and—fuck—” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t breathe—”

You shifted without hesitation, lowering yourself to your knees before him, so you could meet him at eye level. Gently, delicately, you reached for one of his hands — still clawed into the dirt like an animal — and began to uncurl his fingers from the earth. He shifted his position with the movement. 

He blinked again at the sensation, disoriented, his brows furrowing as you guided his hand up and placed it over your chest. Over your heart. And covered it with your own.

“Feel that?” you whispered, taking an exaggerated deep breath. His hand rose with the motion. “All that air coming into my lungs. It’s really nice, Az. Refreshing. Don’t you think?”

He nodded. Or thought he did. It was hard to tell where his body was.

“I want you to breathe with me. Can you do that?”

He swallowed hard. His lungs still fought him. But he would try. Gods, for you — he would always try.

You inhaled again, slow and deep, and he followed — or tried to. Again. And again. Until something in his lungs finally loosened, like a muscle unclenching.

He closed his eyes.

The panic didn’t vanish. But it ebbed. Enough to come back into his body. Enough to feel the weight of the earth, the throb of his heart. The gentleness in your touch. His wings gradually relaxed. His other hand stopped trembling against the grass.

When he opened his eyes, he found yours already waiting.

And for the first time in what felt like hours, he could see you. Not through panic. Just… you.

His hand twitched under yours. You interlaced your fingers, pressing his palm against your skin even firmer. Finally, Azriel took a deep breath. A proper one. Felt the refreshing night air fill his lungs. 

And when you smiled — soft and aching and full of something he couldn’t name — he felt the last of the panic slip out of his bones.

He realized, with excruciating clarity, exactly where he was now. Realized that he was touching you. That you were so close. That somehow, impossibly, despite everything he’d ruined, you were here. 

He almost forgot to breathe again.

You shifted your free hand up slightly, brushing it back through his hair — a tender, absentminded thing, like it was instinct for you now. 

“There we go,” you said softly. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Azriel took advantage of his proximity to take you in— the curve of your mouth, the way the moonlight caught the shine of your hair. How close you were to him, how real it felt. It was almost enough to make him believe he had died after all— that this was some kind of fragile heaven he wasn’t meant to keep, a dream created by a brain deprived of oxygen. 

He let out a breath. His body went lax, sinking into the earth. Into you.

You glanced back at him again, your hand still in his hair, and for a moment, neither of you moved. He studied your face like he could memorize it all over again — the faint crease between your brows, the tremble you were trying to hide in your jaw, the way your eyes softened when you caught him looking.

Something inside him cracked open wider.

His gaze dropped to your lips. Then to your eyes. And then his gaze dropped once more, landing on where his hand still rested over your heart, your smaller one covering his. Without thinking, Azriel brushed his thumb across your skin. A slow, reverent sweep. He felt it immediately— the sudden, sharp skip of your heartbeat under his hand. 

“Your heart,” Azriel whispered, “It’s...beating really fast.”

You let out a small breath, almost a laugh. “Yeah,” you murmured, giving him a sheepish, crooked little smile.

“Why?”

Azriel swore he caught the faintest tint of pink at your cheeks.

“It tends to do that around you.”

Something inside him stumbled, caught on a beat he didn’t recognize. "Oh," he breathed out.

A few moments passed. And then, slowly, you shifted — separating just enough to ease down beside him. Azriel mourned the loss of your touch, of his hand on your skin. He settled into a similar position, watching as you tucked your knees to your chest and rested your head lightly atop them. 

The silence that followed felt easy. Comforting. Azriel was grateful for it, despite his longing to touch you again. His breaths, now more regular, were still slowly coming back to him. 

You turned to look at him, your cheek pressed against your knees. “What happened, Az?” 

Azriel squeezed his eyes shut. Shook his head once, almost imperceptibly.

Out of everyone, you were the only one he'd ever truly opened up to about these episodes. These small attacks — flashes of terror, of helplessness — they'd started creeping back after the second war against Hybern. A strange, ugly pattern.

He hated them. Hated the way they made him feel: weak, broken, like he was still the trembling boy locked away in a lightless cell. But he’d been doing better. He had been. And now — this — it felt like a step backward. Like a fall from a cliff he'd barely managed to climb. He felt like a failure. Like a burden.

“I…I don’t know. I just…”

He looked at you then. Really looked. At the way your eyes urged him to go on. And somehow, his thoughts came easier. More honest. 

The truth was — Azriel had spent most of his life benefiting from the image of someone fearless. The cold, steady blade in the dark. The one who didn’t flinch.

But Azriel was afraid all the time.

He moved through his fear like a second skin — worked off it, thrived off it. Fear of losing someone. Fear of being weak again. Fear of being proven wrong. Fear of being left behind. It sat in him like something feral, something sharp-toothed and restless, always on the edge of recognition.

He knew fear the way an animal knew the shift of the wind before a storm.

And lately, it was starting to take more than it gave. 

He hated it. Hated that for all the years he'd spent learning to master it, it still had the power to master him.

“I hate this,” Azriel said finally. Barely audible. “I hate that I can’t control this panic. That it’s still in me. That I freeze. When I’m needed most.”

“You’re not frozen now,” you said. “You came back.”

He shook his head. “I’m supposed to protect people. I’m supposed to keep our court safe. That’s what I’m for. If I can’t do that... if I’m just afraid…then what am I?”

“You’re still you. Even when you’re afraid. Especially then.”

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment. Nodded, just barely. “I think you’re the only one who thinks that.”

“The fearless don't win wars, Az. They just die faster. The ones who love... the ones who are afraid — they're the ones who survive. They're the ones who save people."

He blinked, like you’d struck him, and a wave of relief ran through his body. Azriel let out a rough breath — almost a laugh. “Since when did you get so philosophical?”

You shrugged, a faint smile tugging at your mouth. “I used to date this guy…”

He arched his brow and you tilted your head, pretending to think. “Taught me a few things about war. About fear. About how important it is to find people worth being afraid for.”

Azriel’s mouth twitched upwards. “Sounds like a piece of work.”

You breathed a soft laugh and the quiet stretched again. He ran his fingers idly through a blade of grass, taking in the calm night surrounding him. 

“How did you know where I went?” Az asked.

Your arms were wrapped around your knees, chin resting on them, eyes tracing his shadows dancing along the grass. “I made a lucky guess.”

“Well… thank you," he said, his heart glowing. "For finding me.”

You glanced at him, your eyes softening as you replied,  “Always.”

Then you tucked your chin back onto your knees, looking up at the sky again. The stars spun lazy arcs overhead. Azriel watched you instead— for a few indulgent moments, at least. 

Eventually, Azriel’s gaze drifted from you, scanning the patch of grass beneath you both.  A soft smile tugged at his lips as the memory surfaced—of the first time he kissed you—here, in this exact spot.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note: posting this randomly as i am...crawling...slowly....from the grave.... where uninspired writers.... and my abandoned wips.... go to rot...

as a girl who has suffered w panic attacks my whole life (thank u traumatic events!) i would rather die than have someone like...kiss me for example, but i cannot tell u how intimate those moments are after someone sees you so vulnerable and theyre just like so...casual abt it? so i simply had to write a lil something, idk anyways enjoy this random lazy ass work <3 onto my series i go!!!!

fun fact.... this is actually a scrapped scene from one of my drafted series (anatomy of dependence), that full exes to lovers, second chance romance, best friends to luvers goodnesssss!!!!

permanent tag list 🫶🏻 (im going to revamp this soon, so if you wanna stay on it, let me know!!)

@rhysandorian @itsswritten  @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon  @glam-targaryen 

@cheneyq @darkbloodsly @yesiamthatwierd @azrielsbbg @evergreenlark 

@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered 

@feyretopia @azrielrot @justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli  @mrsjna

@anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound @melissat1254 @secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows @mellowmusings

@paankhaleyaaar @curiosandcourioser @thisrandombitch @casiiopea2 @w0nderw0manly

@rottenroyalebooks @jurdanpotter @casiiopea2 @gamarancianne @weesablackbeak

@booksaremyescapeworld @knoxic  @wynintheclouds @dacrethehalls  @louisa-harrier

[bloomzone]

STUDY SYSTEM : DAILY STUDY ROUTINE ( EXAM EDITION)

hii looves so this blog is all abt how to optimizing your day for peak academic performance. This four-part daily system is the exact routine used during exam season especially finals to consistently achieve top grades with minimal stress. While the routine may appear complex at first glance it is built upon simple, intuitive principles rooted in human biology and psychology. It is not only practical but highly effective when followed consistently. You’ll learn to structure your day around ur natural energy cycles, use tools to boost focus, and incorporate essential periods of rest and release to maintain motivation and productivity.

SECTION 1: UNDERSTANDING UR ENERGY RHYTHM

The routine is built around the concept of the circadian rhythm, your body’s natural energy cycle throughout the day. On a standard day for example :

Energy peaks shortly after waking typically around 6:00 AM.

Energy dips mid-afternoon often around 2:30 or 3:00 PM.

A secondary energy peak occurs in the evening approximately around 7:00 PM.

Energy tapers off as bedtime approaches.

This predictable fluctuation is key to optimizing your study schedule. The two energy peaks will be your core study sessions, while the dip will be used as a rest period, and the late-night wind-down becomes your release period or bedtime .

SECTION 2: THE MORNING STUDY SESSION (STUDY SESSION #1)

◜⁠✧ Start Within One Hour of Waking Up

Your goal is to begin studying as soon as possible after waking, ideally within the first hour. Use the high energy of the morning to tackle your most challenging subjects.do ur morning routine quick as possible don't do intense workout or stuff like this cuz u will waste ur energy so always have a specific morning routine for days like these ! And u can workout go to the gym or whatever at the rest period !

Pre-Study Essentials:

1. Set Your Daily Goals (5 minutes)

Before starting, sit with a notebook or your computer and write down what you intend to accomplish. Be specific. Define exact tasks e.g. which past papers you’ll solve, which topics to review so u will be more organized during the day

2. Activate Focus with Three Optional Tools:

Caffeine — coffee, yerba mate, or tea to boost dopamine and adrenaline.

Cold Showers — a physiological wake-up that increases alertness (personally I don't do that lmao but if u can that's good !)

Focus Warm-up (1–2 minutes) — pick a point in your environment and concentrate on it intensely. This warms up your cognitive focus system before you start.

◜⁠✧Deep Work Sprint Format

Commit to a 2–4 hour study block.

Use timed work intervals: e.g., 25–30 minutes of focused work followed by 5-minute breaks.

Use a visual timer to create urgency and focus. This serves as a “deadline generator,” helping you push harder and maintain hope by offering visible progress.

─ ⊹key principle: work Like a warrior

Study in focused sprints. The more intense your focus, the less time you’ll need to study. The idea is depth over duration not 12 hours of mediocre attention, but 2–4 hours of deep concentration.

SECTION 3: MIDDAY REST PERIOD

Timing: After First Study Block Ends (~Early Afternoon)

At this point in the day, your energy naturally dips. It’s essential to give yourself permission to rest. This period is not for distractions like Netflix, YouTube, or social media.

◜⁠✧ Approved Activities:

Exercise or light sports

Socializing with friends/family

Taking a walk, especially outdoors

Napping (ideal: 20 minutes)

The goal here is active recovery choose activities that contrast focused work. Avoid anything with dopamine stimulation that mimics your “vices” or release behaviors.so this break allows your mind to reset, preventing burnout and increasing productivity in the next session.

SECTION 4: EVENING STUDY SESSION (STUDY SESSION #2)

Timing: During the Second Energy Peak (~6:00–8:00 PM)

Return for your second battle. This session is similar in structure to the morning study session, but with a few differences:

◜⁠✧ Change Your Environment:

Consider studying in a different location e.g., library, a new room, or another productive setting. (Personally I move from my desk to the guest room cuz it's far from family chaotic activities ifykyk )

This provides novelty and reduces boredom, which helps counteract distractions that are more likely to arise in the evening.

◜⁠✧ Eliminate Distractions:

If possible, leave your phone behind take that shit in another room

Create a space where your brain associates the environment with productivity.

◜⁠✧ Study Format:

Continue using timed sprints.

Session length: 2 to 3 hours, depending on your focus reserves.

The goal is to extract one final productive effort from your remaining focus reserves for the day.

SECTION 5: NIGHTLY RELEASE PERIOD

Timing: 1–2 Hours Before Bed

This period is crucial and often overlooked. It functions as your psychological release valve a scheduled time for indulging in your “vices” or desires.

◜⁠✧ why it matter

Without a controlled release period, distractions tend to creep in throughout the day. When you tell yourself you’ll “resist” TikTok or YouTube for three straight weeks during exams, it almost always backfires. You end up scattering distractions across the day, killing momentum and u will feel like shit

◜⁠✧ so solution:

Contain those activities to this specific window. Give yourself full permission to indulge whether it's gaming, scrolling, or Netflix. The only rule: Only do it at night.

◜⁠✧ psychological benefit:

You’ll find it easier to say “no” to distractions earlier in the day when you know you can give in later. It reduces the mental burden of constant suppression.

Caution:

This is not a prescription to develop new addictions or deepen existing ones. If you don’t feel the need for this release, skip it . But if you’re honest with yourself about your impulses, this structure helps you keep them in check.

◜⁠✧ ADAPTATION AND FLEXIBILITY

✧ Everyone has a unique biology. Some wake up at 5:00 AM, others at noon.

✧ Adjust the energy curve and study blocks to match your personal circadian rhythm.

✧ This is a template, not a strict prescription. Principles stay constant, execution varies.

KEY TAKEAWAYS:

🗝️ Two deep-focus sessions aligned with your body’s energy peaks yield greater results than dragging your mind across a 12-hour marathon.

🗝️ Midday rest and nightly release are components of a sustainable routine.

🗝️ Use tools like caffeine, timers, environment changes, and goal setting to maintain momentum and focus.

🗝️ Structure breeds freedom. When your day is mapped with intention, your brain is free to focus trust me with this one

✧ This daily routine is not about rigid hours or perfection. It’s about aligning your habits with your biology and respecting your mental bandwidth. When implemented consistently, this system transforms exam season from a stressful grind into an enjoyable and productive challenge.Now take what you've learned and design your daily routine with intention ✧

@bloomzone

[sleepypanda27]

Stay

Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky wants you to stay in bed a little longer

Warnings: fluff, nudity

Words: 679

It was an early morning, you were getting ready for work. A mug of warm half-drinked coffee with an eyebrow pencil that you didn’t even realize you accidentally put in there long forgotten on top of the drawers. Haphazically, clothes were thrown around the room, on the floor, and on the bed, stuck between half-closed drawers. The last twenty minutes you had spent walking around the bedroom in your underwear trying to decide what to wear.

Bucky laid in bed one of his arms behind his head as he enjoyed the show. Usually, he would already be up to go on a run with Steve and Sam. But not this morning. Today he decided to stay in bed a little longer and maybe, somehow convince you to stay with him.

"Do you really have to go?" He asked, getting out of bed and walking towards you.

"Yes." You stood in front of a mirror, focusing on the black mini skirt you had tried on, thinking it would look good with a comfy oversized jumper.

"But if you think about it a little more?" Bucky pouted, meeting your eyes in the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind you. His eyes hungrily traveled down your body.

"Tony will be angry if I'm late again." You leaned against him, sinking in his heat. "You know how he gets."

"I will write you a note." He gently bit your earlobe, before leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck, his beard leaving a delicious burn on your skin.

"I don't think that will work." You chuckled, placing your hands on top of his, wanting nothing more than to stay in his arms. "Are you naked?" You asked, noticing that you didn't see or feel any fabric on his body.

"I am," A proud, dark hum left his chest, making you tingle in all the right places. "I thought this way-" Bucky slid the strap of your bra down your shoulder placing a kiss there. Once again your eyes met in the mirror, you wished you had closed your eyes because Bucky was giving you his best bedroom eyes. Not to mention his messy hair. The whole combination will be the death of you someday. "-it would be easier to get you back in bed for some exercises." He unzipped the skirt and tugged it down, leaving it pooling around your legs. Without a warning, he picked you up and carried you to bed.

"Bucky!" You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I have to get ready.” He placed you on the bed settling between your legs. Your eyes traveled down south his body seeing him already hard and begging for your attention. Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth. "Maybe I can spare five-" He kissed you needily, it was all tongue and teeth, grinding against your clothed core. "-or ten minutes." You gasped, sliding your hand in his hair and other down his chest and around to his back pulling him closer. 

Bucky's phone dinged on the nightstand and he pulled away from you to read the message. You whined at the loss of him. "Hold that thought." He smiled reading it. "Good news, you are free for the day."

"What? Why and how?" You furrowed your brows in confusion. “What did you do Barnes?”

"I said I need your assistance with some work so Tony gave you the day off." Bucky smugly smiled placing the phone away. "He's out of town anyway."

"You're unbelievable." You shook your head. “When did you even do that?”

“While you raised havoc in our bedroom.” He looked over his shoulder at the mess.

“Oh-whoa, what a mess.” Now was your time to pout, only now seeing the mess you had created.

“I’ll help you with that later, and then we can go get something to eat. What do you think?” He said. A big smile spread across your face, but before you could respond, Bucky answered for you. "I know you love me," He said, smiling as he kissed you.