#again just to note. i am not (fully) back and i am only doing this because i am bored and enjoy talking about ASPD
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empty-vessel-of-a-person · 20 hours ago
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Review Time: Goodcat Code
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Note: This is my personal take to Sylus' most recent memory. Nothing has been confirmed by Infold, so this is just full delulu mode as I dive in to Goodcat Code. Spoiler Alert for those who hasn't seen the memory yet.
I actually don't know how to fully describe MC and Sylus dynamics on this memory. While the plot of the memory is solid at it's best, their relationship here is really kinda shaky specially on MC's part. So I will have the review in 2 parts. "The Good Part" and "The Bad Part".
The Good Part
As mentioned, the plot of this memory is solid and the twist at the end is surprising but expected because it's Sylus.
The attention to details and the research on different kinds of teas are amazing. The whole memory exude luxury and wealth. It really screams Sylus.
Probably the best part (for me) of this memory is when Sylus almost never fight his cat urges. I really enjoy that part with the Seagull and Parrot. He really does manhandles them and it its hilarious. Can you imagine having to fight of a 6'2 fully grown man to free the birds? (I'm 5'2 by the way. I really can't Imagine having to wrestle Sylus to save the birds. He can easily knock me out)
And the cherry on top of this memory is how Sylus is shown to be a pure gentleman. We can definitely say that MC can be the death of him. (He will actually let her even help her kill him. He did it once already) He can never deny her. He's really down bad even showing (again) the soft side of him.
And how can we forget the kindled part? This is the first time that he really does touch MC. But I must stress on this. He is never pervy or inappropriate with her and that little circling motion he does with his hand on her back is just perfection. He is indeed touching her but it is soft, sexy, and very intimate. I applaud MC for not being swayed. I will totally break with that touch and have goosebumps everywhere.
I mentioned this as well on my previous entry, Sylus is a very old school type of guy and that little moment he have with MC on the speedboat screams Gentleman and Old Money. he can really make the most of any given situation and turns it to something romantic.
The Bad Part
I hate the way infold portray MC in this memory. He never ask Sylus opinion before creating a plot for her mission. It's like she knows that Sylus will do everything for her and his opinion doesn't matter.
If I count it correctly, Sylus mentioned being sold to other women 6 times making it obvious that he is not comfortable with the idea of being with other woman and being emotionally betrayed that MC can easily plot that without hesitation. It's actually twisted! I actually felt bad for Sylus.
MC flicking his forehead and called him Opportunist! Again why?! MC rented him off the cat café like he's an object, asking him to find Snowy Owl, make him act like her butler, and order him to woo another women. MC make him do it all without asking his take on all of this. He even mention "I never agree on any of this". So who is the opportunist one? Really?! REALLY?! It is totally a mood killer. I don't know how they phrase it on other language but this scene totally ticked me off. It's Like MC suddenly becomes one of those who mischaracterize him. I just simply dislike it. I just hope they phrase it better or left it out altogether. It's very unnecessary.
And that collar, though MC is taking claim on Sylus, its just part of her plot. I don't know but Sylus's laugh after MC brings out the collar sounds so disappointed.
The Conclusion
I feel like the love between Sylus and MC are still one-sided (at least in this memory) The lack of communication and asking permission (on MC's part) makes it looks like she is taking advantage of Sylus' feelings for her.
I am deeply moved on how slow burn their story is showing how patient and gentlemanly Sylus. When the preview was revealed, I honestly thought they are making progress as he was now touching MC only for my delulu to be shattered by MC's words and action. Not once she acknowledge Sylus saying he was being sold to other woman.
While I do love the kindled part of this memory, this is certainly one of my least favorite. Radiant Brilliance is easily better because they are mutually pinning for each other.
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courfee · 7 months ago
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“Regulus would be proud of us,” James whispered quietly to no one in particular, still gripping onto the painting like a life raft. 
— Tender Curiosities, Baby!  @otrtbs
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theanonymousninja247 · 17 days ago
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✨ Star Friends ✨
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When I found out that @chessman-protocol boy Crit liked Astronomy, let’s just say I was beyond estatic and immediately planned this little comic. Here’s to my boy Vincent doing his best to make friends with folks who share similar interests 😅💙
Funny enough, I didn’t realize I put this in Vincent character’s until I looked at the whole thing, but Vincent very much shares the lack of stranger danger the way I did/ I do to this day. To quote one of my past managers I’m “abnormally friendly” or whatever
I can’t tell you how many times even as a small child (drove my parents nuts) that I saw a cool person with whatever connecting factor and I just straight up walked to them and was like “Ok cool. We’re friends now.” And nobody’s really stopped me? So apparently I have friends now. 😆
Vincent however is just a wholesome baby boy who doesn’t realize he’s actually an intimidating hunk of a turtle and randomly walking up to strangers and not saying anything can be taken the wrong way.
Like I said, he’s trying his best. He wasn’t exactly the most socialized if you can’t tell, but he does love dearly and is certainly a boone of a friend to have once you get past the inevitable social awkwardness. He’s loyal to put because he really doesn’t know better, and I adore him for that. Anyway, dunno if Crit knows any ASL or not, but either way Vincent is just excited to meet somebody else who likes space ✨🌌 💙
#just being jayus#doing this ugly and scared#my boy <3#Vincent my beloved#rottmnt original character#rottmnt oc#original comic#rottmnt#save rottmnt#unpause rise of the tmnt#time to go feral in the comments again; please ignore the ramblings of an insane person#Fun fact: Vincent is mute (late mutation and didn’t fully develop vocal chords) and so he only speaks turtle and partial ASL#Morrocoy Tortoise AKA Yellow or Red Footed Tortoise bop their head to assert dominance and show emotions#Head hopping and headbutting is Vincent’s tic and you can tell how he’s feeling by how fast or slow he goes because it’s a VIBE#Working on this comic was like the preverbal attempt of taking a horse to water#except this horse is a pony (anything under 14 hands is of the devil) and would not even spare it a glance unless it was perfection#Alas mockery and spite is unfortunately my demise and I could not handle the blank page any longer#Can you see how my style changed when the focus and subject changed?😅#Forgive me my son#for I have not learned to draw you from all angles yet.#Why did I make you so pretty and detailed in my head and yet have my hand betray you?!#The true tragedy is when your idea level is not at your skill level bECaUsE I KnOw wHaT hEs SuPpOsEd To LoOk LiKe BuT I CaNt DrAw HiM yEt#So here we are and I am accutely aware of how much work there is to be done. I’m looking at you flippin turtle anatomy#But hey we all have to start somewhere#so here I am#I tried and by golly I will keep trying. Vincent deserves that much 😅🧡🫡#I just looked back at this and realized I MISSED A STINKING PANEL. And Vincent’s shirt.#Flips a table in my mind#Also I’ve never made a mute character before so if anybody has notes especially about ASL PLEASE PLEASE P L E A S E lemme know.#Wanna make sure I represent the peoples correctly 🫡🧡
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cluster-b-culture-is · 1 year ago
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is it possible to be aspd if you dont “engage in criminal activity”? what if you mask really well and hold yourself on an incredibly tight leash despite how much it distresses you? the DSM doesnt do a good job at explaining what ASPD actually IS aside from “violent criminal disorder”
It is possible, yes. From criterion one, there are seven total symptoms, and you [technically] only need three to qualify for diagnosis (along with meeting the requirements for the other two criterion--note that we personally view the DSM as incredibly flawed, especially when portraying personality disorders such as NPD and ASPD; however, we are (unfortunately) at whims of the world in which we live, and so are largely beholden to the guidelines made by a bunch of neurotypicals who can only view things through the lens of how our disorders affect them or look to them, generally just totally ignoring the internal experiences of the people with said disorders. So much for having empathy, I guess).
We're an example of someone who has not engaged in criminal activity to the DSM's standards; note that the criminal activity had to have been or would have been enough to get you imprisoned, so something like getting a speeding ticket wouldn't count for this symptom (although it would count under reckless behavior, but I digress). Largest reason why we don't (technically) fit the symptom is that we're physically disabled which prevents... a lot of the things we would otherwise do.
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augustatheghost · 1 month ago
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i don’t know what you guys are all complaining about i love that svu has vaporized olivia from woman on the verge to lady cragen
#she's behind the desk she's giving advice she's scolding the kids#she has a life we know nothing about but we know she's Seen It All and also is Lonely#i haven't been saying much about this season because here is the humiliating truth:#i am letting the cop show make me sad#(i should know better)#yes the lack of eo is a bummer but we've done it before we'll do it again#but having a season of genuinely interesting character work re olivia#to have the narrative directly engage with her as a soft furious grieving woman#to question her state of mind and what she does to herself in service of The Calling#only to not simply backtrack but neutralize her fully…#yeesh#is it a coincidence m has barely spoken a word about svu on any press appearances this season?#well no because what is there to say really#this is not a landmark season and there are zero plans to move olivia forward#she’s right where we left her tune into nbc thursdays at 8pm eastern#BUT what makes me most sad is that this shift was a demand from the viewers#(again! i should know better! and yet!)#i am just. a little heartbroken to have it confirmed that much of the audience loves olivia on the condition that she is Good#not only because she very much isn't#but also because that is boring and dangerous and speaks to our deeply warped perception of what it means to be a complete person#more specifically a complete woman#yet the audience lets out a sigh of relief! saint olivia is back! she is a Strong Woman giving Lawfully Good advice! phew!#remember when she was a little broken and volatile and seeing ghosts don’t worry she’s fixed now :)#please note my reaction is certainly tied to other real life happenings including 11/5 looming#alas it’s where i am#anyways dw you’re a loser
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gothamcityneedsme · 3 months ago
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i can't believe i never posted any of my snk fic. like. i have MULTIPLE NOTEBOOKS of handwritten stuff, and a LOT on my phone but like. i was into snk when i didn't have access to a computer. so almost none of this is typed and so thus also none of it was ever posted.
#shitpost#thinking of it because i have two of my notebooks stacked visibly rn because i am supposed to put the pages back in order#because they both fell apart so like i need to fix all the pages#and probably throw away all my military notes about all my signal crap#the thing that made me into snk is that i was actively at my military training while i was into it#and like it was relaxing to me to read about characters doing similar things also trapped in a military structure#or whatever.#anyways i had a few astronomically good ideas but they're trapped now unfinished and not fully formed and WRITTEN BY HAND#and really after i got out of my training hell i fell out of snk because it no longer was something i needed#because i was a guardsman. love that weekend warrior life.#but all this stuff is languishing and its just too bad#b/c some of it is SO good.#i had SUCH a good jeanmarco fic. and like the best time loop fic of all time dare i say.#and a few other ideas as well that were pretty good but i recall them a little less#because again i am just not into snk anymore. i was only into it for a few months but when i was i was SUPER into it#and had TONS of time to write.#in class. mostly. which is why a lot of it is interspersed with notes about radios and signal shit.#because i got through modules faster than the entire class and had to figure out how to slow myself down#because otherwise i had fuck all to do#someday i'll go through these notebooks and toss out the military shit and keep the snk shit#and hopefully be able to put the snk stuff in order. lol
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on-the-clear-blue · 2 months ago
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Little idea wiggling about in my brain...
So like *holds Danny and Billy up by the scruff of their shirts* these two bastards won't leave my brain, and for punishment I will make them kiss...
Just, the Rock of eternity technically is Shazam's (the wizards) haunt? He has been dead for a long time, living only though his champion, what if Ghost King Danny gets slapped with a post it note that reads like
"Daniel, you're required to assist the Champion of Magic as the High King of the Realms, even Pariah helped the previous Champion Black Adam."
And Danny is like, "Sure, why not, Magic is real and so are ghosts."
And like....
Sparky Danny meeting Literal Sun Beam Billy, they are both 14, it's puppy love at its finest. Danny doesn't know what to do with gay panic and Billy is just straight up "This man is my soul mate, he shall be mine." (Call iy Zeus bestowing more than just lightning)
The leauge is very concerned why Captain Marvel seems to have a seeming underage partner.
Superman squinting very hard and trying to figure this out: So...just how old is Phantom?
Billy, unaware how bad this looks: Oh I don't know honestly, it's kinda hard to tell with beings from the Realms! Though he died when he was 14!
Superman, gripping the table (which cracks a little) :And how exactly long has he been 14?
Billy, taking out his phone and flipping out pictures: Like I said, I don't really know how old he is, but there is Egyptain hieroglyphics of him! Look!
Superman, blinking at the very real looking pictures: Ahh. Fun cool cool cool...a-and how are you again Cap?
Billy mindlessly swiping the photos, excited to show off his boyfriend:Never said it, but he is definitely older than I am.
(Danny is older by a month, Billy calls him an old man for it.)
Billy gets to live full time in Danny's haunt in the Zone, Danny built him like the best house, Tucker and Sam get to meet Billy and they just are flabbergasted that Danny "I can't get a girl to date me or else she ends up wanting to kill me" Fenton has a boyfriend that has been going steady for a few months.
My brain sees like, Maddie and Jack are 100% backing Danny, they are fully supportive of their bi/gay/pan son, but in no way would they support him if he was a ghost, like they are organizing Amitys first ever Pride parade, but there is a shoot ghosts on sight order.
And just the reveal is like...
Danny gets finally tells them he is a ghost: if you start shooting me, your shooting the only Gay person you know, not very ally of you mom and Dad.
Maddie mouth open in horror: Oh no...Jack are...are we homophobic?
Jack sharing her look of fear: Great Scott...Dann-o a-are you sure...its...it's a life style right? Y-you chose this?
Danny, trying very, very hard not to laugh: It's not a life style dad! I didn't choose to Die!
Anyway, thank you for coming to my brain word vomit, I haven't slept in 20 hours.
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skrunksthatwunk · 1 year ago
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so a thing that my brain does on the reg is it makes me get nervous about a scenario (ranging from probably-won't-happen to Definitely-Won't-Happen) and then i have to spend like 40 minutes meandering my way through an improv youtube apology video until my brain feels like I've addressed the scenario about as well as i can and lets me move on. usually this comes in the form of like
you accidentally said a forbidden slur (i.e. one i can't reclaim) while streaming/in a group conversation and now have to explain that your brain misfired catastrophically hard and that you've never said this word before (true) And You Have To Do It Well Enough To Be Believed
because like. i wouldn't believe that guy either, y'know? most people in that situation just cross that bridge when they get to it and do pretty bad, so maybe my brain is trying to help prepare me via interrogation. my point is that i spend a lotta my spare time pacing in my bathroom fending off theoretical murder charges (which are either phony OR true OR a secret third thing depending on the day).
as soon as i woke up this morning my brain gave me a new one:
what if people accuse you of faking your (middling) knowledge of french? and also you're a celebrity and have to prove it by speaking french live on a talk show or something.
which like. good morning to you too, brain. the first thing i did was (slowly, mediocrely) construct an appropriately indignant sentence in my head (i haven't used french since my ap exam like a month ago) and then
BUT WHAT IF PEOPLE THINK SOMEONE FED ME THE LINE
ok we'll have the audience write in questions live
WHAT IF THEY STILL THINK IT'S RIGGED AND ALSO WHAT IF I DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE ASKING ((<- LIKELY AND UNCHARACTERISTICALLY ROOTED IN LIVED EXPERIENCE!!!)) WHICH WOULD PROBABLY MAKE IT WORSE
girl that's The Most i can do what do you want from me.
and then once i woke up more i had a realization in that blasted out, quiet way—like an astronaut drifting away from their ship untethered, forever. that
the prognosis of taking american public high school language courses is to remember jack shit (pardon my french). it's a classic babe it's near universal. we all know we don't know.
Babygirl, (And I Cannot Express This Enough,) No One Is Ever Going To Make You Speak French Live In ~5-40 Years To Prove You Took It In High School. Go Back To Sleep. there's only like two scenarios you can think of ever where that happens and there's like a 70+% chance you can just say no or ignore it. what a weird thing to fake in the first place too who would even accuse you of that.
anyway sometimes being a citizen of Braintown is funny and not exhausting in a kind of sad clown way but it's usually just kind of awful. something something c'est la vie
#held captive to the world's saddest strangest most confused lump of meat sitting in juice getting zapped with electricity ever#i cant tell if it's hard mode scripting or if i just fully have compulsions about this in ways im only realizing now#sorry if the formatting is a bit much this used to be a big wall of text and i thought yhis would make it more digestible#anyway i have Tendencies and Thoughts i should get Evaluated For because what the shit IS that#the sentence was smth like 'je deteste le tache donnez-moi hier soir' which like. shoulda been ce soir dumbass god get it together#(<- actually just glad i haven't forgotten it. also idk if the donnez-moi is right. every time i use hyphenated verb-pronoun stuff im#flying by the seat of my pants. also i think the 'je deteste' was different but idr how so there's what i prolly woulda done instead)#FUCK IT'S LA TACHE??? GOD THEY'RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE ME#making a new tag for these:#skrunk story hour#in case you want more of my stunning 2 notes talespinning#me: oh if i have ocd it's pure. also me: (see above)#idk idk. fully not sure tbh. but the fact that they tend to align with the intrusive thought subject matter (moral concerns) doesn't seem#coincidental to me.#but then again the fear of doing wrong vs the fear of being accused/misconstrued (often justifiably) are separate (albeit fused for me)#anyway tell me you had to go lawyer mode with your parents to justify feeling/wanting anything without telling me that. yes im blaming them#it all comes back baby. you can't buy fear of confrontation this bad in stores you have to grow it yourself#oh also im not going back and tagging old story times unless i happen to see ppl interacting them and remember bc i usually didnt tag them#and it would be a nightmare to dig through like 8 months of blog for it. sorry 🫶#i know im sorry. no one likes those posts better than me so i for sure know and am sorry#rare skrunk intrusive thoughts L where i can just look at it and go girl no. not only no but absolutely not. but only after i do the#homework it gives me about it. hell on earth#etc etc. moving on now
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submattenthusiast · 2 months ago
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mess
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summary - matt cumming on himself after being edged for so long
pairings - sub!matt x dom!reader
contents-smut, jerking off, mommy kink, one mention of pegging, cum, edging, crying, safeword mention (but not used) etc.
notes- based off this ask, not proofread, no plot.
“please, it hurts,” matt cried. it had been an hour of torturous edging, matt had an attitude earlier and you were sick of it, so you punished him the only way you knew how. 
hot tears streamed down matt’s face as he tried to gain your sympathy. his cheeks were red and his eyes were puffy, he had started crying around the second time his orgasm was denied. 
his cock was red and aching in your hands from the repeated blue balling. “poor poor thing” you cooed, tone laced with faux sympathy. he whined and pouted at your words, you didn’t care, you were enjoying this.
you continued your movements on his swollen cock, languidly moving your hand up and down his length. 
matt squirmed on the bed, thighs tensing everytime you gripped his cock. his mouth was in a permanent “O” shape, his voice gone from how many sounds he made.
“mommy m close– fuck please can i cum this time?” his voice cracked as he begged, he wasn’t sure how much more edging he could handle. “please please– i can’t” he sobbed, tears dropping down on his shirt.
you removed your hand swiftly, leaving him hanging once again. “no, no, please don’t stop” he complained, he was so ready this time. “i know i know, you can handle a couple more can’t you?” you urged him, wiping the tears stuck on his sticky cheeks. 
“yes please just want to cum for you mama ” he croaked out, leaning into your touch. matt regained his breath before speaking again, “can handle it just please let me cum soon please, hurts” he motioned to his cock as he finished speaking.
“good boy, gonna make a mess for mommy?” you murmured, hand gripping his base once again. “yes–ah yes i am” he winced, cock overly sensitive.
you loosened your grip on his base and moved your hand on his cock, rubbing up and down. precum dribbled down his cock, making it easier for your hand to move. he hissed at the feeling of your spit mixed with his precum.
you leaned down to kiss his tip before licking off all the precum that stuck to him. his breath hitched at the sensation of your hand and mouth. you placed your tongue back in your mouth,returning to your original position next to him. 
matt’s bottom half was fully nude, leaving him in a plain black tee. the material was becoming uncomfortable, sweat causing the shirt to stick to him awkwardly. “can i take this off please?” he begged, tugging at his shirt. “keep it on, you're gonna cum on your shirt” you demanded.
“s-so i can cum this time” he questions, eyes lighting up at the thought. you chuckled at his desperateness “nice try”. “how much longer then mama” he frowned, tears threatening to fall once again.
“you wanted this, remember?” you question, “yes ma’am i’m sorry” he mumbled, “so take it”. he groaned at your harsh tone, he loved when you got stern like this. you resumed your movements on his cock now that his previous build up had faded away. he jolted up as you placed both hands around his lengthy cock. matt held back an embarrassly high pitched whine,your hands felt too good.
you looked up at him and your brows furrowed, you saw he was holding out on you. you wanted to hear him, you didn’t care if he was close to cumming again, you were doing this to make him feel good. “don’t hold back sweetheart, i want to hear you” you comforted, knowing he was insecure about being vocal in bed.
matt unsealed his lips per your request, “o-oh okay”. his lips were beginning to feel numb from how hard he was biting down on them. “good boy” you complimented, he nodded and smiled shyly. 
“say it, say you’re a good boy” you sharply spoke, stopping your hand once again. he weeped at the loss of contact “ah– i’m a good boy, your good boy please”. your nipples hardened through your shirt at his obedience. 
“please touch me again mommy,” matt begged, missing your hands already. you nodded before wrapping your hands around him, his cock was covered in your saliva from the teasing earlier. he winced,he was beginning to feel overstimulated, he thought of using his safeword but he couldn’t use it before cumming,but he knew he couldn’t handle anymore edging.
your hand began to ache from the repeated actions to his cock and matt had been so good for you, you were finally giving in. he could finally cum this time. you continued to jerk him off, speeding up your pace, eager to push him over the edge.
“fuck– close close close” he moaned, hips starting to stutter. piercing moans and whimpers fell out his mouth. “mommy cum, n-need to ah–” he sniffled. you palmed his tip before going back down to his base. “go ahead baby” you voiced, lazily stroking him now. 
“thank you thank you” matt repeated. his body convulsed as he came, thighs clenched,as his
cock spilled out loads of cum onto your hand and covering his shirt. you squeezed him while finishing him off, making sure every last drop came out of him.
his breathing got heavy as he rode out his high. matts brown hair was a mess and he was sticky with sweat and cum. you still thought he looked so pretty fucked out. his blue eyes fluttered shut as he relaxed into the pillows under him.
you let his cock go as he was no longer hard, and overly sensitive,It fell limp against his thigh. “you alright matt?” you poked, he was oddly silent. “worn out” he uttered. you smiled before cuddling him next to him.
“if me jerking you off wears you out like this, how are you gonna last when i’m fucking you” you laughed, his eyes went wide, looking down at you to confirm he heard you right. “guess i’ll have to practice’’
a/n - rushed this bad but ty for reading.
taglist; @mattybsgroupie @frnkocnlvr @fratboychrisera @issysh3ll @zariyam @bellassturniolo @thepubeburgler @gwennybenny @matts-myloverboy @luvs4matt @floralsturniolo @karttpet @sturniolo-fann @benardsgfs @cuntendipity @heartsforvin
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pearlymel · 2 months ago
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A baby ?!
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Summery: his departure always bugs you, and surprise, it was just your lil hormones messing with you.
Wc: 3.4k
Warnings: Fem!reader, sfw because we decided to be sweet, pregnancy, reader is pregnant, there are some suggestive comments but that's all. Happy ending because i love yall.
Part one and two if you missed it my loves.
Notes: welcome to part 3 which i believe is the last part. I am kindly asking not to ask for a part 4 because i have run out of ideas. If i ever decided to write for capitano again, it wouldn't be part of this series, it would be like headcanons instead, you could imagine the reader being the same, apologies for spelling errors and thank you. :)
Credits: the art of the left panel is by @/reaperpie
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Fall was slowly approaching in Snezhnaya, and you had already expected it to be colder than the normal autumn. Which to your bad luck, it was not a suitable place for your picnic’s.
Your husband has continuesly rejected your date ideas, but you expected that anyway, you knew he couldn’t. He had duties to attend to, responsibilities to the Fatui, to the Tsaritsa, to the world. He couldn’t stay, as much as you—he wanted to.
It's not fair, You think while pouting as you stare outside the window with your chin resting on the palm of your hand, looking like a princess in need to be rescued from the tower. Your thumb toying with the diamond ring resting around your ring finger.
“Ugh, it's unfair baby.” You slump back on the bed, while your little fur baby only meowed at you in return, the orange cat jumping on the bed to make itself warm on your lap. “meow back if he doesn't love me.”
You're met with silence, only happy purrs reach your ears, and you grin, “obviously he loves me, obsessed even.” Your hand reaches to slowly pat the kitty.
“I miss him.” You sigh dreamily, deciding to stand up while carrying kitty with you so it doesn't feel left out. You make your way towards the desk in the corner, pulling the seat to take your place before pushing yourself closer to the desk.
You rest the kitten on your lap again—who quickly adjusts like nothing happened, looking as sleepy as ever.
You open the drawers to take an envelope, some wax, a stamp, a paper, and a quill.
Yeah, you're going to write him a letter, he said he didn't mind recieving even hundreds of letters from you.
How romantic.
“Dear, husband.” You start, dipping the quill in ink to brush it along the neat surface of the paper.
“i miss you.” you narrow your eyes at the empty page, saying that you miss him felt too boring.
“i utterly miss being next to you.” Hm, it lacks excitement.
“Please come back soon or i will run away.” Huh, you could already imagine the army's he would send to search for you.
“i want you inside—” okay, now you're being desperate.
You rest your arms on the desk, leaning your head on them while sighing.
“Do you know when will he return?” You politely ask one of the guards in front of the estate’s gate. Your hands together behind your back.
A leaf flew by in front of the guards with still no answer from them, and you narrow your eyes, wondering if they even heard you in the first place.
Finally, one of them shook their head and you only sigh in resignation, “thank you.” You mumble before heading your way back inside the estate.
It has been more than two weeks since he left, and he would sometimes send you neat letters to inform you about his well being, but the last letter you received was about a week ago, it was worrying you.
“My lady, are you okay?” Your personal maid, Marina, asked out of concern, watching you put an apron with a frown plastered on your face.
“Just hungry.” You take the glassy bowl, eggs, flour, butter, and sugar. Then you set them on the table. “I can help you.” Marina stands next to you, taking the butter to melt it.
“you want to make cookies, correct?” She asks, and you nod with a small smile. With the butter fully melted, you begin mixing in the sugar, beating the mixture until it becomes light and fluffy. The repetitive motion of stirring is almost meditative, and for a brief moment. “Baking is rather calming, i should've tried it before.”
Marina chuckled softly at your admission, a knowing smile on her face. "Yes, baking can be quite therapeutic," she stated, watching as you mixed the sugar and butter together. "I've found that working with your hands, especially when it involves creating something good to eat, is a great way to clear your mind," she continued, adding chocolate to the bowl.
You had both finished combining the ingredients, and the room was now filled with the warm, comforting fragrance of cookie dough. Marina stood beside you, watching as you shaped the dough into small balls and placed them on a baking tray. As you finished placing the last cookie onto the tray, you and Marina stood together, admiring the array of small, round cookies waiting to be baked in the oven.
The sounds of the gates opening is what catches your attention next, making you stand up from your chair to immediately abandon the kitchen and rush towards the entrance, your eyes searches him when you reach the front door, and surely enough, your husband has arrived.
He looked almost disheveled, tired, yet he still held a straight posture.
Capitano's weary eyes widened behind his helmet as you rushed into his arms, his body stiffening as if caught off guard by your sudden affection. But the tension in his form swiftly melted away as he wrapped his strong arms around you. His grip was tight, as he pulled you against his body. He was silent for a moment, his chin resting on the top of your head, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths as he held you.
“I…” you want to break the silence, you want to tell him how much you missed him. “I missed you.”
Capitano's grip intensified as your voice reached his ears, he was more than relieved to hear those words. To know that somone dear is waiting for him, someone as precious as you that he's willing to risk his life for.
He exhaled deeply, "I missed you too," he whispered, making sure the words only reached your ears. He pulled back slightly to look down at you, his gaze raking over you as if to confirm you were real and not a trick of his tired mind.
Capitano allowed you to lead him inside afterwards, his hand careful to be gentle when holding yours. The weariness in his body was evident as he stumbled a bit as you pulled him along. However, he matched your pace as best he could, following obediently as you guided him to your chambers.
Being greeted by the familiar room before him made his shoulders relax, the only place where he can be himself.
"How was is it? Being away from your wife for more than two weeks?" You ask while your hands started working on helping him out of the thick layers of his heavy, dirty clothing. Each layer you removed revealed more of his muscular, battle-worn physique, the scars and marks on his body a testament to the dangers he had faced.
He paused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he noticed your pout. He reached out a calloused hand and gently tugged at your lip, "It was a long two weeks," he admitted gruffly. "I have missed you sorely.”
“I'm sure you did,” you hummed, walking towards the closest to grab a sweater for him. "Don't pout like that," he chided gently, "You're making me feel guilty.”
You try hiding your smile when you hand him his new warm clothes, your arms crossing next, “as you should.”
"I've missed that pout," his lowers his voice, "but I don't miss your little attitude.”
You shrug, “i don't know what you're talking about.” Capitano's gaze held yours unflinchingly, his eyes studying your expression. He knew you were baiting him, daring him to guess your reason for being upset.
"Let me see.." he started, his voice taking on a tone of mock contemplation. "Perhaps it's the fact that I was gone for more than two weeks and left you here all alone. That's a start, is it not?”
“maybe.”
"Or perhaps it's the fact that I didn't send you a letter everyday and left you wondering about whether I was alright or not. Hmm, that could be it, couldn't it?”
“Go on.” your raise your eyebrow while tapping your feet impatiently.
"Or maybe," he stepped closer, taking a few strands of your hair in between his fingers, "It's because I didn't come home and ravish you as soon as I returned, instead letting you pout and sulk and complain like a spoiled little thing.”
He could see right through you; the way you suddenly straightened your stance and tried to act nonchalant only confirmed his suspicions.
You gasp, ”whaaaat? Nonsense.”
"Is that so?" he drawled, his hands now taking your upper arms, his thumb thumbs rubbing circles around your skin "i will make it up to you, my wife.”
Despite his promise that you could do later, you wanted him to rest more than anything, so you make him sit down on the bed while you leave to get the cookies you baked together with Marina.
“You have to tell me your opinion.” you hand him one of the chocolate chip cookies. Capitano let the taste of the chocolate chips and the buttery cookie dough settle on his tongue for a moment. He swallowed, his gaze still fixed on you, before giving his verdict.
"They're good," he admitted, "Better than good, actually. Well done.”
Praise kink goes crazy huh? Your smile widens, and it makes you feel all giddy, as you took a bite of the cookies as well.
He leaned back against the plush bedding of the bed, his strong arms resting on his lap as he observed you. "You've been busy while I was away, hm?"
“Not really, more bored than busy.”
“… i am sorry. I do not mean to leave you alone.”
You scoot closer to him once you see how guilty he looks, you sit next to him, your head resting on his shoulder. “When do you have to leave again?”
Capitano's silence spoke volumes, pausing before answering, "My duties are unpredictable, and there's no telling when the Tsaritsa will call for me again. I cannot give you an exact timeline, and that is the reality of what I do. I am a warrior first, a husband second.”
Ouch, that's fine. Totally fine.
You knew what you were getting into when you married him, after all. Still, a part of you couldn't help but wish for more. The thought kind of makes you sick… quite literally.
“I think the cookies had too much sugar.” You put the dessert back on the plate before standing up from the bed. “Shall i go get you wate—”
“no, thank you. I can do it.”
You were rotting in bed. From the morning, and now it's afternoon. It makes you feel useless since you barely did anything.
Capitano left before you woke up, even though he promised to return later today.
You felt miserable, your body weak and your spirits low. It was a mixture of loneliness, hormones, and the unease bubbling in your stomach. Capitano's absence only made it worse, adding to the feeling of helplessness that had settled upon you.
You tossed and turned in the bed, the plush sheets tangling up around you as you tried to find a comfortable position. But no matter how much you shifted, the discomfort in your stomach remained, persistent and nagging.
“Make the pain go please, I'll take any disgusting medicine,” you tell Marina weakly as you look up at her while she sat on the wooden stool next to you.
"I can give you some ginger root. It might help soothe your stomach.” she offered gently, handing you the ginger root she prepared just for you.
“… i lied i can't take anything disgusting.”
Marina chuckled softly at your admission, "I thought so," she said, setting aside the ginger root. “Have you considered telling Lord Capitano?”
You shake your head, “not that he's here. It's not that important.” you cover half of your face with the blanket, “why though? Isn't it just a normal cold from the change of weather?”
It was clear that you were trying to downplay the severity of your symptoms, perhaps not wanting to worry anyone or admit that something might be seriously wrong.
"Dearest, it's not just a cold," she chided gently, "the symptoms you're describing are not typical of a mere cold.”
You frown, “is it not?”
She shook her head, her voice soft but serious. "No, it's not. The nausea, the fatigue, the changes in appetite...these are all common symptoms of something else." Shee paused for a moment, "my lady, have you considered the possibility that you might be... Pregnant?”
You immediately rise from the bed, sitting down with eyes wide to stare at her, "what? Pregnant?” you ask in shock.
"I shall ask for a healer right away, my lady.”
You stare outside the window at the dark skies, although your eyes fixated on the gates opening, indicating his arrival.
You almost flinch when he dashes inside your shared chambers, taking his helmet off but not bothering to take the rest off before he's gently grabbing you by your arms.
“where?” He asks urgently, “where are you injured? Who did it? Do not hesitate to tell me.” He says in a dangerously sharp tone, his eyes searching for even a single scratch on your body.
“what… are you talking about?” You raise an eyebrow, and your unbothered state made him confused. “the healers were here, yet you're not injured?” he blinked before sighing, his hands caressing your arms instead, “then why? Are you sick?”
“Sick… no not sick.” You tell him, your hands ever so gentle taking a hold of his face, “… but pregnant. I'm pregnant.”
You both stare at eachother, both of you holding your breaths. You have never seen him so distracted, like he didn't hear you the first time.
Does he hate it? You never thought of the possibility.
“Capit—” before you could continue, he's down in one knee and you're bewildered, unsure of what to do.
“you're carrying our child.” he utters out so softly that you think you might tear up—and you really are in the verge of tears. He takes your hand, he's held your hand many times, but this time it feels different, he holds you like you're glass, he's so careful with it.
“I swear to protect you both, and put you both first. Should anyone hurt you, i will not hesitate to draw my sword, if i ever hurt you… then you should not hesitate to draw your sword on me.” his words hung in the air like a sacred vow.
You tried to speak, to respond, but only a soft gasp escaped your lips. Tears welled in your eyes, and you could only stare at him, utterly overwhelmed.
Capitano's gaze softened even more as he saw the tears falling down your face. He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, his hand still holding yours in a gentle but firm grip, he reached out with the other hand, his large palm cupping your cheek to brush your tears away. “Don't cry, I'm here.”
His embrace, so warm, so protective around you that it eases every single thought in your head.
Everything is going to be okay. With him, it will.
Months passed in a blur of morning sickness, cravings, and blossoming excitement for the new life growing inside you. Capitano, as promised, was by your side through it all and he went away for more than a week.
He attended to your every need, from getting up in the middle of the night to find the most ridiculous late-night snack, to comforting you on days when you felt overwhelmed by the changes happening to your body.
You rest back against the bed’s headboard while tracing random shapes on the skin of your swollen belly, a hum of some sort of song followed after. You stop once you hear the sound of slow footsteps, catching your husband freeze.
“I'm sorry, i didn't mean to stalk you like that—”
“you're so silly. Come here, honey.” You pat on your empty side with a smile, inviting him to share this moment you.
Capitano took his place next to you then continued watching as you gently caressed your belly, tracing over the stretch marks with your fingers.
“They're beautiful, you know.” he speaks first, as if sensing what you were about to say. “Beautiful?” You repeat. He lifted your hand to his lips, gently pressing a kiss on your knuckles before he replied, his voice a soft murmur. "Yes, beautiful. They're a sign of life growing within you. A sign of strength. Of creation. That's beautiful.” he continues his trail of kisses to your arm up to your shoulder, “I want to kiss every inch of you, stretch mark or not.”
You've come so far with him that it feels surreal, it feels right, “i love you.” You whisper to him, turning your attention to him again. “I love you.” he doesn't hesitate to say it back, the declaration coming out of his tongue smoothly like it was meant to be.
His hand then moved to your growing bump, "and I love this," he added. “This?” You giggle.
"Mhm," Capitano confirmed, his hand now rubbing your belly in slow, soothing circles. "This. Our baby." His eyes flickered up to yours, "We created this," he continued, his voice with pride and awe. "Our love made this.”
Love.
Were toddlers always this fast? Because one second he keeps an eye on her then the next he looks around before she's gone right from infront of him.
He was supposed to play tea party, but a little butterfly flying creature must've caught her attention.
Capitano, despite his size and strength, found himself struggling to keep up with your energetic three-year-old daughter.
He chuckled as he chased her around the garden, his large frame a stark contrast to her small, fleeting form. As she ran past you, you couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight of your husband's face, "almost got her," he panted out, his hand on his knee as he attempted to catch his breath.
“You got this old man!” You decide to tease him from behind, laughing endlessly from the sight. Though he shot you a mock glare through his labored breaths, “old man, huh?" he grumbled, straightening up and crossing his arms over his chest. "You think I'm old now, do you?" he continued, raising an eyebrow playfully. "I'll show you 'old,' darling." With that, he took a step further to sweep you off your feet, carrying you effortlessly in his arms, and your smile only widens.
“Me!” Your little girl raises both of her arms at her father, and he kneels down to carry her in his other arm. Now carrying you both in each arm.
“Oh, how strong.” You tease, poking at his bicep and he shakes his head almost shyly, “papa, butterfly.” Your daughter proceeds to show you both the butterfly she caught, the little creature doesn't seem scared of her as it rests on her tiny fingers.
“Looks pretty,” Capitano smiled, his expression amused as your daughter leaned toward the butterfly, attempting to kiss it. "Careful now," he warned gently. "Don't scare it away." He watched as the butterfly fluttered its delicate wings at her attempt and she giggles.
"You have to be gentle," he told her, his voice soft. "Just like how you handle the kittens.”
She gasps, suddenly remembering the cat that's half asleep on the grass with the three of you. “Kitty!” She shouts at the cat, jumping off Capitano’s arm so suddenly that it makes him gasp, worried that she might’ve injured herself.
“she's fine.” You pat your husband's chest and just like that, he's relaxed again. “i think our cat is tired of her sometimes.” You get down as well, watching how your daughter carried the lazy cat in her arms to run in circles with her. The cat that grew within these years, from a mere kitten to a big cat now.
"I think we should just be glad the cat hasn't hissed at her or swatted her yet," he sighed, and you hum in reply, “i don't think it ever will. That cat has been clinging to my belly ever since i was pregnant. Kept me warm i must admit.”
You grin when your daughter runs back to both of you, carrying the cat in the air, it's eyes almost closed, unbothered, "meow."
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Tags: @duchessofherself @itsjustnikkixoxo @erasme143 @yvesswoo @mooshbb @bigboygoose
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nvtstvrns · 14 days ago
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Prettied Up - Chris Sturniolo
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Smut, dom!chris, sub!fem
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Summary: you and Chris are getting ready to go to dinner with Nick and Matt when he sees you doing your makeup in the mirror, he decides to eat you out while you do your makeup.
Contains: smut, sub!fem, dom!chris, oral (fem!receiver), almost getting caught, pet names (ma, pretty girl, etc)
Authors note: I am so sorry I put this story off for so long, here it is 😭
Divider Credits: @bernardsbendystraws @adornedwithlight and @cafekitsune
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Chris and I were getting ready for dinner with Nick, Matt, Mikayla and Nate, we were in Boston for a few weeks and we wanted to get together with our old friends. I was standing at the mirror starting my makeup, Chris was in the shower.
“Ma, can you hand me that towel, please?” He asks me his finger pointing through the shower curtain. I walk over to the towel and I hand it to him. I quickly go back to doing my makeup, we only had twenty minutes left before we had to leave.
Chris comes behind me and wraps his arms around my stomach and he lays his head on my shoulder.
“Chris, you’re getting my clothes all wet.” I say pushing him off my slightly.
“That’s not too bad though right-“ he says hugging me from behind again. This time his hands trail to my bare waist. “Clothes will dry…” he reaches up and cups my breast.
“Chris.” I warn as I watch him run his hands all over my body in the mirror. “I’m trying to do my makeup.” I say blending out my blush trying to shake off the goosebumps. I could feel myself throbbing in need and I took a deep breath.
“You gettin all prettied up f’me?” He says as he puts on his underwear and then his pants. I grin and turn around. “Chris stop making me-“
He gets closer to me and grabs my jaw. “Stop making you what?” He says in a husky voice. My knees buckled. His grip on my jaw was light and soft but it still put a huge effect on me.
I look up at him with puppy eyes and he lets me go.
“Can I make you feel good baby…give you a little reward…”
“For what?” I ask quietly.
“You deserve it…but keep gettin prettied up for me ma.”
He gets down on his knees in front of me. This was a new thing from him, it’s always me getting on my knees for him, was he really going to make me feel good with no returns at all? I feel his hands fiddle with my button on my pants and then he unzips them, pulling them down to my ankles and then pulling them all the way off. His eyes trail up to mine and he places a soft kiss to my lower abdomen.
“Keep doing your makeup don’t watch me.” He says pulling my underwear off and throwing them somewhere with my pants. He doesn’t even hesitate, his mouth quickly attaching to my clit, I let out a gasp and I hang my head back. He taps the back of my thighs telling me to continue doing my makeup, so I do, trying to line my lips with all of this pleasure is not working, so I move on to my mascara.
“Oh my-fuck Chris…” I say as my legs begin to shake, I can’t focus on just my makeup, the image of him pumping his fingers in and out of my wet pussy while his mouth abuses my clit was way too much. “I’m gonna cum, Chris! Oh my fucking god, Chris…” I say grinding my hips on his face.
“Mmm yeah grind my face ma, cum all over me.” I continue grinding my hips reaching closer and closer to my high, with a final cry my legs jerk and I cum all over his face…luckily my makeup was fully finished, it didn’t look exactly how I wanted it to, but I did my best.
“Chris! Y/n come on! We have to leave!” Matt yells, in a daze I put back on my pants and he puts on his shirt, and puts on deodorant and other things. He wraps an arm around my shoulder.
“Don’t let it affect you too much baby.” He says kissing my temple “we still have dinner to eat, and then you can have me.”
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This was a lot of fun to write, and thank you sm for all of your support lately (I recently did a face reveal) so thank you for all of your compliments on that. Thank you for reading my fanfictions and if you ever have a request just send me a silly little message.
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rikupid · 12 days ago
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[3:00] 💭 your teeth in my neck . . . wc: 1.7k
warnings: haechan x afab!reader, nsfw (MDNI), dom!haechan who is still kinda whiny, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up plz), breeding, degradation, light humiliation, use of pet names (baby, angel, whore), dacryphilia, overstimulation, hyuck is just stressed!!
author’s note: winnie writing dom haechan… WHAT HAPPENED TO ME… looks around nervously bc Who am i!!!!! anyways i hope u all enjoy 😖😖
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haechan didn’t mean to snap.
he didn’t mean to grab you by the waist and push you up against the wall with so much force that you thought you had done something wrong, staring at him with a confused expression.
you know he’s not usually like this, his behavior catching you completely off guard, and his only excuse is that he’s just stressed. he hasn’t gotten a break, jumping from schedule to schedule, being told to do this and do that, pushing him over his limit. haechan’s stressed, but he really didn’t mean to snap.
his hands are rough, roaming all over your body and groping whatever he can reach. haechan’s normally sweet, treating your body with so much care that it makes you want to cry, but suddenly, like a flip had been switched, his hands begin to trail lower and lower, squeezing your ass and tugging your hips forward.
you gasp as you feel his bulge pressing against your core, mind trying to process what exactly’s going on because haechan’s never acted like this before, never taken what he wants without desperate little pleas, begging for you to make him feel good.
“hyuck,” you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against his bulge, despite your earlier confusion. “what’s—mm, what’s wrong, baby?”
haechan just groans, burying his face into your neck and pulling you impossibly closer, itching for your body against his. he mouthes messily at your neck, biting and licking your skin until it’s wet, flushed red and properly claimed.
“hyuck—“ you try again, but it’s obvious that haechan doesn’t wanna talk, too wound up to even think about voicing his stress properly if the rough sink of his teeth is anything to go by.
he pulls away from your neck, sliding his hands up towards your waist and underneath your shirt, mapping the smooth feel of your skin. “mine,” haechan mumbles, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip. it’s the first word he’s said all night, and something about it makes you throb with desperation, this new side of your boyfriend weird, but not unwelcome.
you nod your head, leaning forward to connect your lips fully and tangling your fingers in his hair. haechan moans into your mouth, slipping his tongue inside and gripping your waist with so much force that you’re sure it’ll bruise.
everything’s so hot, making your head spin as your boyfriend practically eats you alive, almost as if he was trying to prove that you were his, leaving no room for argument.
haechan’s the first to pull away, leaving the both of you gasping for air, lips slick with spit and swollen a pretty red. his gaze is heavy as he locks eyes with you, swimming with a mix of emotions that you can’t quite read. without a word, he slips a hand down into the front of your pants, past the waistband of your sweats and underneath your panties, fingers immediately sliding between your folds and spreading them, marveling at just how wet you are.
“barely even touched you,” haechan mumbles, staring at where his hand is deep inside your pants, rubbing small circles on your clit with his middle finger. “so fucking wet,” he adds, biting his lip.
“yeah—yeah,” you breathe, head falling back against the wall with a loud thump. you roll your hips into his hand, chasing more of the pleasure that comes from him touching you.
“stop moving,” haechan hisses, using his other hand to hold your hips down, forcing them to stay still. his words are harsh, void of any emotion as he growls, “you’re gonna take what i fucking give you.”
you can’t help the whine that slips from your throat, nodding and not daring to try moving again. your pussy throbs at the rough treatment, turning you on even more.
haechan says nothing else, pulling his hand out of your pants and flipping you around, crowding you up against the wall. you moan, an unexpected noise at the sudden switch in position, and his bulge strains against the curve of your ass.
his movements are rushed, little to no care behind them as he tugs your sweats and panties down, leaving them pooling around your knees. you shiver at the sudden exposure, closing your eyes and pushing your ass back against him, desperate for whatever he’s about to do to you.
“hyuck,” you moan, pressing your forehead up against the wall. you hear the faint sound of his zipper, biting your lip in anticipation.
haechan ignores you, pulling his leaking cock out of his pants, barely even bothering to pull them down, before grabbing the base and guiding it towards your slit. he teases, dragging the tip between your folds and wetting it with your own arousal.
“could jus’ slip it in if i wanted,” he whispers, talking to nobody but himself and pressing the tip inside as if he were really going to. “gonna fuck this pretty pussy, make it all mine,” he breathes out, hands pressing into your back, forcing it down into a pretty arch.
“please, hyuck,” you whine, walls fluttering around the tip of his cock that’s just barely pressing inside you.
haechan scoffs, a lazy grin on his face as he takes in the sight of you, pressing your ass back into his cock as if you were some kind of cheap whore. “begging and i haven’t even done shit,” he sneers, holding your hips in place to keep you from moving.
he pulls the tip of his cock out before spitting into his hand, slicking up his length and groaning at the stimulation. before he can lose himself in the pleasure, he places both of his hands on your ass, spreading your cheeks to slide his cock inside your pussy, bottoming out in one slow and deep thrust.
a long moan is ripped from your throat, the girth of his cock stretching you out so good, any thoughts you had disappearing and melting from your brain. “hyuck—oh,” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut.
“tight—so fucking tight,” haechan gasps, hunching over your back and digging his face into the back of your shoulder. he pulls out, just barely leaving the tip inside, before slamming his hips against yours, bullying his cock back into your pussy. like this, he builds up a rhythm, fucking you without mercy, his thrusts too fast for you to stay coherent, moans choked and words stuck in your throat.
he’s so deep it feels like you can’t breathe, your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, fingers digging uselessly into the wall. your body rocks with slam of haechan’s hips, legs going weak as you try to keep up.
“take it so good, baby—fuck,” haechan whines, voice shaky and out of breath, but his hips keep the same relentless pace, never letting up. “made to take my cock,” he babbles, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer, “gonna make me fucking c-cum.”
“please,” you moan, feeling your orgasm build up. your pussy throbs, heat boiling in your stomach and threatening to explode so hard you’ll break.
“yeah? maybe s’all you’re good for,” he says, slowing his hips and rolling them in deep, pointed thrusts. “just a whore that’s only good for cock,” haechan mumbles in your ear, bringing a hand down to rub at your clit. a choked moan leaves your lips, spit beginning to pool inside your mouth.
“so dirty baby, so fucking dirty, getting off on me fucking you like this,” he continues, words punctuated with each thrust.
“hyuck—hyuck,” you gasp, barely managing to get the words out. he picks up the pace again, leaving you breathless, and finally, the tension in your belly snaps, orgasm washing over you in strong, powerful waves. your legs give out, body supported only by haechan’s grip, and fuck, he’s still going.
“that’s it, baby,” haechan groans, hips stuttering from the way your pussy clenches around him, practically sucking his cock back inside.
“too much, s’too much,” you whine, loud and pathetic, tears welling up in your eyes. your hand flies down to grab his wrist, trying to stop him from rubbing at your oversensitive and throbbing clit.
“shut up,” haechan spits, grabbing both of your hands and pinning them behind your back. “k-know you can take it, angel, c’mon,” he pants, thrusts turning sloppy as he feels his orgasm getting closer and closer.
“hyuck,” you sob, too stupid to think of anything else, haechan’s cock having properly fucked you silly, leaving you with nothing but the thoughts of hyuck, hyuck, hyuck.
finally, after what feels like years, haechan pushes in with one last final thrust of his hips, groaning as he spills inside your pussy. “fuck,” he whines, biting his lip as he cums, the tension in his shoulders disappearing with every last drop.
you’re both panting, completely spent, and for a moment, it’s silent. haechan nuzzles into the back of your neck, rubbing his sweaty bangs against your skin, and it should be disgusting, but you’re too tired to actually scold him.
he pulls his cock out, backing away to watch as your hole flutters, a small trickle of cum beginning to pool and spill out. “mine,” he whispers, hands caressing your skin like an apology, trying to make up for the rough treatment.
you nod, finally coming back to your senses. “yours,” you agree, sniffly and quiet. haechan gently guides you back into a standing position, crowding you against the wall and nuzzling back into your neck.
“love you,” he mumbles, voice quiet and obviously drained, his body slouching against you. he tightens his arms around your waist, sighing.
“love you too, hyuckie,” you hum. “what was wrong?”
“just—you know,” haechan whines, not wanting to elaborate.
and yeah, you know. with you, words aren’t necessary for you to know what your boyfriend needs.
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a/n: ummmmm… Not sure. the haechan voices got to me and that video of him moaning during the asmr with jisung did Not help!! lmk what u guys thought about this :>
tags: @haetrack @injunnie-lemon
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the-one-and-only-elita · 2 months ago
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One thing that I absolutely love about TFOne's writing is that it manages to avoid a lot of the heavier criticism I've seen regarding MegOp's hero/villain dynamic over the years (trust me, the mid-2010s TF discourse was crazy)
*Spoilers Below*
First of all, the narrative benefits so much from the main 4 cast members all being a part of the same exploited mining class. So many takes on MegOp have Orion being of a higher status (an archivist, a cop, etc) while Megatron is much lower down on the social latter (a miner, a gladiator, often in the context of being a slave).
I've seen many people be put off by this, because it feels as if Megs is being villianized for being rightfully angry at the system that deeply harmed and exploited him, while Orion/Optimus is praised for taking a more pacifistic stance despite him not suffering as much from or in some ways even benefiting from the system he claims to oppose. I don't find their dynamic to be as simple as that, and I do find these takes to be a bit reductive, but I do very much see where they are coming from.
I am definitely one of those people who's very frustrated with the way pacifism is hailed as the one true path of morality, and the inherent implication that taking any sort of revenge on the people who abused/exploited you makes you just as bad as them. Also, Marvel's particular brand of demonizing any form of radical political action, despite the system clearly being broken and corrupt, but being completely unwilling to offer any other alternatives to meaningfully change things for the better.
When looking at what I described above its pretty easy to see how a lot of versions of MegOp's hero/villain dynamic unfortunately fits into that trope. Bringing it back to TFOne, you can see how Op and Meg coming from the same political/social status subverts this. The existence of Elita and Bee only further illustrates that out of the 4 people of the mining class who were all deceived, exploited, and literally mutilated in the same way it is only D-16 that completely loses himself to his rage, even to the point where he loses compassion for his own companions and disregarding the safety of the other miners (when he decides to "tears everything down" and Elita exclaims he's going to "kill everyone").
What I think I love most about the characterization in TFOne is that Orion is the radical one. Not only that, but he is praised by Elita and by extension the narrative for it. He is constantly challenging authority, and is the first to have the suspicion that their society is structured in an unjust way.
Meanwhile D-16, to be frank, is kind of a bootlicker. He fully believed in the system and that Sentinal Prime, as someone with power, had the right to decided "what was best" for those who are weaker/lesser (I wish I had the specific quote from D-16 to support this, but the movie's still in theaters). It illustrate that D-16 already held certain fascistic ideals, and that he and Orion already have fundamentally opposing moral/political values, it simply hasn't been of any consequence yet. It shows that their eventual falling out was inevitable, even if they had decided to rebuild Cybertron together.
It should also be noted that D-16's feelings of anger and betrayal do not necessarily have anything to do with the unjust system itself, but that said unjust system was predicated on a lie. Hence his fixation on deception in the post-credits scene and him naming his faction the Decepticons. Meanwhile, when Orion learns the truth he's just sort of like "yeah, I always kinda knew something was up" because again, he understood on some level that their system was predicated on injustice.
Even D-16's obsession with Megatronus Prime, while initially an endearing aspect of his character, is also an indicator of the questionably large amount of value he puts on one's strength. It foreshadows the "might makes right" ideology that the decepticons follow, and is a key part of their ideological characterization across continuities.
Instead of the narrative we often see in Transformers media were Optimus is idolized by the narrative for being more moderate and Megatron is villiainized for being radical (or so people often claim), it is instead Optimus who is rewarded and praised by the narrative for being radical, and Megatron who is villainized and punished by the narrative for holding potentially fascistic values.
I do agree with some criticism I've seen that the whole thing with killing Sentinel and D-16's final turn into villainy felt a bit rushed and more than a little cliche, but I also understand it both had a limited runtime and that it is ultimately a family film meant to be accessible to children. More importantly though, I think the movie set the groundwork early on that, no matter how this final act played out, D-16 was always going to turn to darkness, and Orion would not have been able to stop him.
Its perfectly tragic, the way all MegOp should be, while also feeling really well thought out from a thematic standpoint. I love it.
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yuellii · 1 year ago
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PLEASE ( DON’T ) BE MY WINGWOMAN !
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𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 his female best friend tries to help him win your love, but knowing her, it all goes wrong
feat. lyney, neuvillette, ayato ( separate )
note. gn reader, features : lynette, furina, ayaka. hello i am officially back and also officially 21 !! :]
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LYNEY.
“Oh, woe is me! Please assist, my dearest sister!” The magician sat sprawled atop the couch quite dramatically, backhand over his forehead feigning feverish feelings. “Whatever shall I do when the God of Romance is plotting against a hopeless romantic, such as I?”
“What’s wrong this time?” By contrast, his sister’s voice proved no fluctuations, tone lacking the honeyed sound he needed for sympathy. Instead of catering to his sorrows, she instead sipped lightly at her tea, for it was far more relaxing than her brother’s ‘woes.’
Still, Lyney sighed. “The love of my life—my soulmate!” he cried out. “How should I win the affections of my other half, when I can’t even grasp the scale of romantic favor?”
“Desserts.”
Lyney sat up. “I beg your pardon?”
“Give desserts,” Lynette shrugged. “Everyone likes desserts.” This reasoning totally made the most sense to her.
She watched as Lyney started at her blankly for just a moment, and then he inhaled sharply. “So I should… use desserts as my gift…” With each passing word, Lynette watched as a staggering excitement in his voice grew tenfold. “And then, if I keep giving their favorite treats”—Lyney gasped—“they’ll start to associate the sweetness with me! Oh, Lynette, you’re a genius!”
Lynette blinked at him. That strategy explanation was not what she said at all, but whatever. Not her problem.
But when Lyney dragged her by the hand to go purchase desserts, and then forced her to sit down at the cafe just to watch him gift treats to you, then maybe it was her problem.
“A very special dessert!” he presented, and Lynette sat with disinterest as she watched your eyes light up at his cheap old appearance trick. “For a very special person.” And now came her own eye roll—caused by the way Lyney giggled to himself at the end of his own sentence.
Maybe it was charming ( but personally Lynette didn’t see the appeal ), because there was a sparkle that appeared in your eyes in admiration of him. And suddenly, Lynette didn’t understand why he was trying to win your love at all, because it’s clear to her that he’s already won it.
“This is for me?” she heard you say. “This is actually my favorite! Oh, Lyney, you shouldn’t have!”
“Don’t even worry,” she watched Lyney wave off. “It was given to me for free at the shop”—Huh?—“and I have no space for it”—What was he…?—“so I thought you might like it!”
Lynette blinked to herself. Then she blinked to herself again. And then one more time, and now Lyney was back to her spot with you no longer in sight. “How did I do?” Lyney excitedly questioned her. “A good start, right? Step one of your idea to get my crush to become obsessed with me is complete!”
Okay first of all, that was literally not her idea, but maybe she should’ve communicated it better. And second, “Why did you lie? That dessert wasn’t free—You specifically bought it to give to them.”
Lyney immediately raised a finger with that confident smirk of his. “Because, my dear sister,” he began, “it’s called playing hard to get.”
If she could sigh, she would. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am! And I’m taking this game very seriously, too. Do you know how hard it is to keep my cool when I’m around the love of my life?!”
“Playing hard to get just makes it harder to get someone, Lyney. They might lose interest and move on.” But still, Lyney insisted. And still, Lynette just silently rolled her eyes.
The next time this happened was literally only a day later. So much for playing “hard to get,” she supposes. Perhaps Lyney didn’t quite fully understand the scope of how suspicious it was to offer you another “free dessert” only a day later. Or, he was just so lovestruck he absolutely could not wait to talk to you again.
Lynette decided the answer to be the latter option.
And once again, he claimed not to buy this dessert on his own, and Lynette did not miss the obvious eyebrow raise you gave her brother this time. You were still grateful since it was your favorite, of course, but it was rather clear you were beginning to question this. Lynette sighed to herself.
“Lynette!” Lyney called excitedly once he left you. “Oh, dear sister, did you see it this time? She stayed with me a bit longer—grabbing the plate much more slowly. She must have been at the start of falling in love with—!” Lyney stopped when he saw the empty seat. “Uh, Lynette?”
Farther away, you suddenly yelped in surprise, almost dropping the plated dessert in your hands.
“Sorry,” Lynette mumbled. Oops, she didn’t mean to scare you. But… maybe appearing in your field of sighs so suddenly once you turned a corner and coming from a darkened alleyway was not the most subtle.
“It’s alright,” you brushed of. “Oh, you must be Lynette, right? Lyney’s sister!”
“Correct.” Ah, how would she bring this up? She was never really the best with words… And definitely not when she had to use a lot of them. “Um, my brother,” she started. “Don’t mind him being weird.”
At the mention of her brother being weird ( perhaps she should defend him, but whatever, he was being weird. ), you seemed to relax. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “He’s been giving me these desserts lately—didn’t seem too coincidental that he keeps getting them for ‘free’… Especially since they’re, um, not even having a promotion right now.”
Again, if Lynette could wack her brother on the head right now, she would.
“He likes you.”
The sudden shock on your face tells Lynette that maybe she shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. Or that she shouldn’t have said that. At all.
“You’re a very dear friend to him,” she correct. Oh, wait, but she didn’t want to completely shut off the idea of romance. Correct it again, quick. “Or, very dear person… Yeah.”
You stayed quiet for a moment, probably trying to process the amount of confessions and corrections she just shot at you. Archons, you probably thought her and her brother were so weird. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blame you.
“Thanks, Lynette,” you said, and she noticed your feet shift to walk away. “Actually, I think I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
Well, Lyney certainly hoped you would. She just silently watched as you walked off. But she wasn’t worried, no. As long as you spoke of this “next time,” Lynette was sure her brother would eventually succeed with you, even if he was being weird at this game.
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NEUVILLETTE.
The thing that gets Furina the most excited—absolutely elated, much shown in the way she kicks her feet and patters her fingers—is the fact that her dear Iudex has no idea he’s so in love with you.
To not only her, but also the rest of Fontaine, word is quick to spread with the simple way his feet always end up turned in your direction, or how lips curve a slight upwards motion when he speaks to you. Or, the way his feelings of admiration brings out the colors in his eyes, and the shyer tone in which he laughs along with you.
And Furina, being the bestest of friends she certainly is, only wants what’s best for the Chief Justice, truly! It’s such a downer seeing him be a quiet, unsociable, hard-to-get-along-with loner all the time. And so, the moment she catches wind of his feelings, she is more than quick to come up with a way to loop the two of you together.
She pats herself in the back. She’s confident that he’ll totally thank her for all her efforts later.
This confidence still yet remains even when she has you standing up nervously on trial, wide eyes a bit scared to be accused of a crime by the Hydro Archon herself. And Neuvillette atop his seat looks exasperated, much so in a way the audience is always eyeing him with fluttering eyes and chattering whispers—because the Iudex is looking at you with such a public display of concern that he has never been known to show another on trial.
Oh, she could already see the Steambird’s morning headlines! Chief Justice Neuvillette casts eyefuls of worry towards the accused?! Or, The Iudex’s rumored lover: Accused by Lady Furina?! —Oh, oh! She was so excited!
Amidst her internal giggles was when Neuvillette’s cane came hammered down on the wooden floor of his balcony seat, silencing every voice in the Opera Epiclese. “Furina,” his voice scatters as firm as ever, though the Archon could some people gasp to themselves—Ah, she could always trust her people to spot even the slightest difference in his voice; He was clearly angrier today! “I believe you have some explaining to do.”
“Is it not obvious, my dear Iudex?” she loudly proclaimed as if acting in a performance. Her voice was playful and teasing as always, and she could tell Neuvillette was much more annoyed by it than usual today. “I am pressing charges against a darling citizen, yet a criminal over here…!”
And that was when she threw the back of her hand over her forehead for dramatic effect, making you only more nervous upon your stand. Such an increase in your fear was clearly noticeable to the Iudex, of course, as he immediately spoke to silence the Archon accusing you.
“And what would those charges entail, Furina?”
There was a sudden glare in his eyes, almost threatening. But oh well, nothing he could do—She knew he would stick by the law and allow her to make her claim anyways. This was so easy, she could almost laugh to herself!
“For…”
Oh, celebration was already at the back of her mind!
“Murder!”
…Holy shit. Oh Archons. She was supposed to say theft. “Theft,” for stealing Neuvillette’s heart. But instead she slipped up and said murder.
Oh, she can’t take that back now. But… But no worries! She was the beloved Archon that had absolutely no issues performing for her people—ergo, she could totally come up with a new plan! Certainly, a single-word slip-up will surely not mess up her entire pickup line here.
“Yes, you heard me,” she played along, hands balling to fists and dramatically sitting at her hips. “Murder!”
“Furina!” Neuvillette silenced from his place below on the podium. Never before has she seen his facial expression this angered. There was a furrow between his brows that betrayed his usually calm and emotionless look—and aw, she thought it was so romantic for him to show these emotions so outwardly just for you! The audience must love his display of passion right now—all to defend your honor! “What is the meaning of this?” his voice boomed.
Furina cleared her throat. “Murder…” she began to make her case against you. You, who looked up at her so fearfully. She almost felt bad. “For… For breathing…!” Wait, that’s not what she meant. “No, no, like murder… of breath— of my breath— no, of Neuvillette’s breath, I mean—” Okay, at this point, she just needed to spit something out. And that was when she raised a finger, pointing it accusingly down at you and making her claim: “You killed Neuvillette!”
The next instance was filled with a silence so deafeningly powerful that she felt her own stomach churn and her knees grow shaky. Well, this was definitely an embarrassment she hopes to never feel again.
Surely, this silence wasn’t awkward enough for her land the finishing blow…?
“Like, you stole his breath away…” she tried. “So you technically killed him.”
Okay maybe it was time for her to shut up.
Neuvillette’s face; oh, he looked absolutely furious. This was not the picture-perfect sight of cherry tomato blushing she was hoping for here. And you: a horror-stricken disbelief. Your mind looked like it was racing to comprehend both being charged with such a serious crime, and having the Chief Justice just randomly outed in public for… having a crush on you…?
Meanwhile Furina stood still in her usual place, just about ready to curl up and die from her failed attempt at a love confession. But before that, perhaps Celestia heard her prayers.
The audience pretty much erupted in girlish screams and whispers—all those watchful citizens of Fontaine who treated your relationship with Neuvillette like the hottest topic of the century, like the storybook romance they were reading obsessively. And now, Furina watched—watched as your expression contorted to slow realization that maybe your Archon wasn’t exactly lying about Neuvillette’s feelings, and that maybe almost the entire nation was already romanticizing you two.
And then, there: that was when Furina watched as your face blew up an expression of pure embarrassment, all the fear being completely wiped away. Then Furina could almost die when she turned her gaze to Neuvillette—who was still watching you very intently—and how the ends of his ears turned a blushing red.
Oh, this view was priceless. Once again, perfect Focalors saves the day!
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KAMISATO AYATO.
Thoma clicked his tongue. “Tall and awkward.” He squinted his eyes. “Practically unrecognizable in Inazuma despite your status.” Then, he tilted his head. “Absolutely terrible at small talk.”
Finally, Thoma nodded his head. “Yep, you don’t have a chance, my Lord.”
Thoma yelped as a paper fan hit his shoulder, and that was when Ayaka slid at the seat next to him. He made a quick apology to her, but when Ayaka looked across the table, she saw how her older brother didn’t seem quite phased at Thoma’s mean evaluation at all.
Instead, he seemed to be really considering what was told to him.
“Oh, brother,” Ayaka caught his attention. “Don’t listen to Thoma, he was only being mean. Personally, I think you have a good chance at winning this date!”
“No, no, Thoma might be right,” Ayato pondered. Aw, Ayaka didnt like it when he doubted himself. “All of those traits may make this date go horribly wrong—I might end up appearing as undesirable…”
Ayaka frowned. She may not have a love life of her own, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching her brother’s love life like an Inazuman drama act or like a romantic storybook. And the fact that Ayato has downright fallen tremendously hard for you—who Ayaka also loved dearly, and who she admired so much—makes her pray to the Archons every night for your relationship to set sail.
So Ayato scoring this first date with you was already a big deal on its own. Only… He wasn’t quite sure what date plan would make him the most appealing man to be courting you.
Of course, who else could he turn to, other than his darling best friend and sister? Ayaka certainly had no expertise in this, but if there was one thing…
“Brother, please take this!” Across the table, she shoved a stack of just a few papers, slightly faded and lightly wrinkled, into his hands. He blinked in surprise at them for a moment before squinting at the rushed handwriting that clearly did not belong to his sister. “The Traveler gave this to me; It’s a recipe for a pizza dish from Mondstadt!
And that was how she ended up here, watching with Thoma from the sidelines of the estate as Ayato gives you the friendliest smile can force upon himself as he offers to make the both of you food. Now, the last time Ayaka tried this, she blew up the oven with the Traveler in earshot. But surely, she knew her brother had much better survival skills than she did, and there was no way he would ruin a perfectly easy pizza recipe.
But then Thoma almost burst out laughing from their secluded hiding spot, and that was when she noticed her brother bringing out not one, but instead two platters of pizza. A rather odd aroma in the air. Oh.
“I thought we’d spice things up!” they heard Ayato say to you, clasping his gloved hands together and regaining his weird, excited smile and that equally weird, excited tone in his voice. Oh brother… “One pizza is normal, and the other pizza has random toppings I threw on it—as a taste test!”
And when he set the two down, it was… quite interesting. One was a normal mushroom pizza, cooked based on Traveler’s recipe: Ayato certainly made it much better than Ayaka could’ve attempted. But the second pizza was topped with a rather colorful palette: lavender melons, sea grass, and what looked like Sea Ganoderma. Ayaka and Thoma already found themselves gagging at the smell.
When Ayaka glanced at her blonde companion, he was furiously shaking his head at her, running a thumb straight across his throat as if saying “It’s over for him.” And honestly, Ayaka might have to agree this time. Maybe she should’ve never given him that pizza recipe or that cooking idea.
“A ‘taste test’…” you echoed. The two eavesdroppers heard shifts from your side do the table, meaning you reached forward to grab a slice—they quite obviously guessed you picked the regular mushroom pizza. “The host should go first, don’t you think?”
Oh? Did that mean you were interested in this game of two after all? Ayaka’s eyes practically lit up—She was so excited for her brother!
“I’ll take up that offer of yours,” Ayato chuckled lowly. And with no gag or hesitance at all, he takes a large bite with a whole unsavory mixture of the ingredients entering the cave of his mouth. “Mm, not bad at all.”
You were visibly surprised by his calmness, now reaching out to grab a slice of your own and biting it just as he did.
But almost immediately, that bite was spat right back out onto a napkin at the mere taste of this weird concoction. “Bleh, Lord Commissioner! How did you manage to eat a whole slice?!”
The first thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed: The way you said this was amidst laughter. You were laughing, and it even sounded like you were smiling. Because whenever Ayato tried this sort of gross mixing method with Thoma or Ayaka, they would also say the same line of disgust, but in an unfavorable way. But, no—You sounded genuinely lighthearted?
The second thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed ( from even the slightest of peeks ): The big, bona fide grin on Ayato’s face at your reaction. Oh, he was absolutely eating this up, as no one ever showed a positive reaction to his weird little hobby before. And of course, being partnered with the fact he was ( not-so ) secretly in love with you, only made it so much better for him.
“It was alright, I’d say!” he spoke excitedly, a hint of an uncontrollable laughter and uncontrollable smile laced in his voice. “It had the most memorable texture, and the taste felt like I was in touch with mother nature.”
You only scoffed at him in a joking manner, “None of those ‘compliments’ of yours weren’t inherently positive, Commissioner.”
To that, he gave you another big grin before silently reaching to eat yet another slice of this suspicious pizza. Well, Ayaka supposed her brother’s weirdness landing a perfect date with you, after all. And then she pat herself on the back—because maybe, giving him that recipe was the best mistake she could make.
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// not proofread ;; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNIER THAN INTENDED. BUT IM BAD AT BEING FUNNY :(
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birdyshewrote · 18 days ago
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“Birthday Girl”
Wolverine x Female!Reader
written by birdy
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Wade Wilson throws you a rink-a-dink birthday party every year, and this year is no exception. But this time, you have a new guest.. and he’s been watching you for a while.
Notes- hi. ive never written a fic before EVER, so pls be nice. this is mainly for me to be able to get my thoughts out of my head because I’ve been thinking about this man for way too long. happy birthday bitches 🫶
WARNINGS/TAGS: smut- 18+ Logan Howlett x Female!Reader, Logan calls reader “Kid”, light smoking and alcohol consumption, Wade being a menace
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You had caught glances of him a few times in the hall. The scent of smoke, leather and alcohol that belonged to only him drifted in the air behind him for a few seconds even after he had walked into the apartment room across from yours. There had been a few times where you stepped into the elevator and musky cigar smoke had filled the small space. You didn’t complain though, secretly savoring the intoxicating smell, taking more, quicker breaths than you needed too. You couldn’t deny the knot it put in your stomach and the weakness it put in your legs before stepping out of the elevator, down the hall and into your own room.
Eventually, you were tired of the mystery. Two weeks into the seemingly one sided tension, you trapped your long time friend and even longer time across-the-hall neighbor, Wade Wilson, into the elevator with you. Ever since the stranger had moved in with Wade, he had stopped inviting you over. Your birthday was coming up, and so was your annual not-so-surprised birthday party. Once the elevator doors closed, you started,
“Hey, who’s your new roomie?”
Wade scoffed, putting a hand across his heart on his chest, the other gripping a full black trash bag that smelt of blood and for some reason bubblegum scented air fresheners. “THATS how I am greeted nowadays? No, ‘Hello Wade’, ‘Looking good Wade’, ‘Here’s that five bucks I owe you Wade,’
You roll your eyes, putting a hand on your hip stepping away from him. “Okay, first of all, I do not owe you five bucks. You OFFERED to pay for the funeral arrangements after you killed my fish-“
“He looked hungry, who knew fish could be over fed?” He interrupted.
“I told you before I left!” You argue back. “I was only gone two days and you-“ You rub your forehead and shake your head, frustrated. “Whatever. Not relevant. Hello Wade, you do look good.” You say, defeated.
Wade giggly adjusted his weight to his heels, to his tippy-toes, then back to his heels again “Thank you.” He said, satisfied, and turned back to the doors.
“You didn’t answer my question. Your roommate? Who is he?” You ask again as the elevator dings and the doors creakily open.
He raised an eyebrow, looking at you sideways as the two of you walked down the small lobby. “Uhm, news flash doll face, Blind Al is not new. She’s an OG. Been here a while, silly.”
“Not Al.” Talking to Wade was like trying to a horse with dementia. “You know, ‘Mr Tall and Handsome,’ always sulking, ‘I don’t care about no smoking rules.”
Wade throws his head back, “Ooohhhh, you mean Peanut. What about him?”
“No introduction?” You ask confused, watching Wade as he carried his trash down the hall, holding the entrance door open for you.
“Well, I don’t know. I guess Iuh… I forgot.” He stuttered as he led you down the wet alleyway, towards the dumpsters.
“Last month you called me into your room to show me your new toothbrush. You have a new roommate and you just, ‘forget’ to introduce us?”
Wade shrugs, shifting the thin, plastic bag straps in his hand uncomfortably as he walked.
The truth was, Wade did not forget. The truth was, in fact, that one of the first things Wade had done was mention your existence to Logan before he was even fully settled in the apartment.
“I think you two would hit it off, hardcore. And I mean, HARD.” Wade had said.
“Absolutely not.” Logan grumbled, immediately shutting him down, not even looking up from the blow-up mattress he was unrolling in the living room.
Wade sat on the couch arm rest, looking down at the burly man. “Come on Wolvie, let a girl heal your cold, withered heart. You’re a tough, ‘don’t get too close’ typa guy, she’s an ‘I can fix him’ type of girl, I personally think it’s a perfect match.”
“Shut the fuck up. I’m telling you to drop it.” He snapped, glaring up at Wade. “I don’t need you playing Cupid here, you hear me? I swear to God, if I hear you that you’ve even said my name to anyone I’ll get the fuck out of here and never look back. I don’t need to be getting mixed up in any of that shit right now.”
Maybe years ago Logan would have been a flirt, he wasn’t new to women or relationships, but he had been through too much. He had lost too much. He’d never admit it, but the truth was, the infamous Wolverine was scared. Scared of intimacy, scared of getting attached, scared of loss, scared of you. Still, this didn’t change the fact that he had been secretly watching you leave your apartment through the safety of the peephole of his own door. And yeah, maybe if you weren’t so loud coming out of your apartment he wouldn’t know your schedule within a week. Like what time you wake up to leave for work or school, or what time you come home. What days you take your trash out or do your laundry. And when he found one of your sweaters lying around the apartment when he first moved in, what should he have done with it? He was holding onto it for safe keeping. And yeah, he knew it was yours, but only because your sugary perfume clouded his nostrils and made his head feel fuzzy. It was so recognizable, he knew immediately the sweater was yours. Maybe if you wouldn’t drown yourself in the body mist he wouldn’t instinctively know when you were just in the hall, he told himself. It wasn’t his fault he had animalistic smelling.
He couldn’t, however, find an excuse for how he’d hesitate in front of his door, watching for the elevator to stop at your shared floor, wait for the doors to open and inhale the scent of your panties from down the hall once you saw him, then he’d unlock his door and rush in quickly. Sometimes if he was unlucky he’d steal a glance of your full body out of the corner of his eye.
None of this meant anything though. He could contain the animalistic urges he had towards you. Especially when he caught a glimpse of your thigh when you knelt to pick up a dropped grocery. He could handle himself when he heard your thick, sweet laugh through walls when watching a show or movie. But at the same time, what harm would it cause if he touched himself while inhaling the scent of your hair, sweat and perfume through your abandoned sweater late at night? And keeping it locked away in a locked dresser wasn’t creepy, it was just there until you asked Wade to look around for it.
He could handle himself from a distance. He knew this. He knew his limits.
He had been woken up from the couch after a long afternoon of drinking and despair by a loud “SURPRISE!” followed by laughter and clapping. He did not know there was a party going on, let alone a party for you. He was completely blindsided when you were standing within ten feet of him, in his living area, talking to Al and Wade and the others, laughing that sweet laugh
Shit..
Where could he escape? The front door was no longer an option, everyone was clustered in front. Maybe he could make a run for it through the bedroom and out the window? Or maybe take his chances down the escape ladder through the-
“Sleeping beauty has awaken!”
Shit.
Before you could blink, Wade was pulling you through the small cluster of friends to the couch, where a very confused, very hung over, very huge piece of man stood like a deer in headlights. This was your first time seeing him up close, and shit was he alluring. His hair was untamed and messy from his interrupted sleep, his thick brows furrowed. Frown lines prominent as his large muscles twitched under his shirt-
“Hey, his eyes are up there you horn dog.” Wade publicly snapped you back into reality. Immediately flustered, you began trying to save the situation that was doomed from the start.
“I wasn’t looking at- I wasn’t even doing anything, Wade!”
“It’s okay, I know you weren’t. He’s just a moron.” He put an understanding hand up as he spoke. Fuck his voice was so deep and low, almost a growl. It felt rich and threw shivers straight to the back of your throat and straight into the dark jeans you wore. You swallowed. Hard.
After an awkward greeting, Wade had basically pushed a drink into both of your hands and left you to fend for yourself. Logan took a seat on the couch, the worn furniture dipping under his weight. He was clearly uncomfortable. He kept his eyes low, rarely meeting yours. He threw his arm over the head of the couch, spreading his knees. He pulled out a cigar and gestured to it. You couldn’t tell if he was offering you one or asking if you’d mind if he smoked, you shook your head no to both. You politely sat next to him, pulling your legs under yourself next to him.
Unfortunately, this man was not the easiest to speak to.
“So, Logan. You’re new.” You fidget with the cup in your hands.
He lets out a low “Mhm” while taking a puff, then lets smoke pool out of his mouth and drizzle out of his nose, before speaking again. “Yeah. Don’t really know how I ended up here. Just, kind of did.”
You nod, looking around the room. 2016-2018 pop hits played on the pink Hello-Kitty speaker Wade had bought for himself, now sitting on the kitchen table next to the drinks. Various characters lounged around the apartment chatting and eating pizza and drinking.
“Seen you around, y’know.”
You turn to face him again.
“Oh?” You ask, sipping your drink.
He nods in return. “If you need help bringing groceries up to your room or somethin’, you can just let me know. Heard you drop a few things before.” His top lip twitches just the slightest in what you assume is his version of a smile. He puts the cigar back into his mouth and chews.
You furrow your brows at the sarcastic banter. “Oh yeah? Didn’t know I had a stalker.” You bite back, smiling while doing so.
“Not stalking you, kid. Just minding my own business and getting interrupted every two seconds by my noisy neighbor.”
After this, the two of you spoke more fluid. Relating in Wade’s schemes and circumstances became a common interest. You felt yourself becoming more and more comfortable with the man’s presence. After your second drink, your leg rested against the rough denim of his thick thigh. He said nothing about it, so you continued to speak to him. You were unaware of what he was thinking or feeling.
He was freaking the fuck out. Especially when you asked him to go outside with him to get some air. He agreed, and the two of you slipped out of your own party. The night was dark as you walked through the city-lit pathway to the side of the building. Logan watches you and takes another puff of his cigar as you stretch in the open air. You sigh, relieved to be out of the stuffy room.
You could feel his eyes on you. The heat and heaviness of his lingering eyesight, watching your every move as if you were his prey. It made you nervous. It made you intrigued. You wanted to be in his sight, and he wanted to keep watching you.
“You shouldn’t smoke so much, shit’s awful for you you know.” You say, leaning on the brick building next to the tall, muscular figure.
He gives you a slow, sharp smirk in return, his canines showing through resting on the cigar.
Your heart begins to thump and he looks deep into your eyes, like he sees through you.
You let out a shaky exhale as your smile fades and take a step closer to him. He takes the cigar out of his mouth and looks down at you, shaking his head.
“You don’t want this, kid.”
You pause, trying to read his face in the dim lighting. “I do, and I think you do too.” You speak low and soft, like if you’re too sudden with your movements he’ll get startled and dash away. You slowly raise a hand and rest it on his hard, warm chest. You feel it rise and lower, he’s heaving now.
You bring your face up, closer to his. He doesn’t move, so you whisper into his own lips, “Logan, it’s okay.”
The light encouragement is what he needed. He looks down at your parted lips, pushes the lit cigar into the brick wall next to you, putting it out and dropping it, before muttering back,
“Well, you are the birthday girl.”
He leans down to give you what you’ve been asking him for, and what he’s been yearning for. He kisses you, slow and respectful at first, stepping in front of you. He puts his large, rough hand in between your head and the jagged building, protecting you as he pushes you against the wall. You bring a soft hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down farther into your space. He tastes like alcohol and smoke, and you couldn’t get enough. The kiss gets sloppier as you welcome his tongue into your mouth. You look at his face through squinted eyes, only to see his brows furrowed in deep concentration and self-discipline as to not overstep. You shut your eyes again as you grab his other hand, dragging it to your waist. He lets out a soft, low groan in response to the contact of your skin. Your waist feels so soft and warm is his heavy grip. He softly paws at your side, then up your loose shirt. He pauses underneath your bra, and you arch your back in response.
He breaks away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you momentarily before breaking. “This okay? You’re sure? I can touch you like this?” He’s almost pleading, even with all of the consent in your body. He looks down at you, eyes half lidded.
“Yes, Logan. Stop asking me.”
He nods, smiling slightly, and slowly shifts his long, thick fingers underneath the garment, and towards your chest. He brings his mouth to yours again, greedily taking and lapping at your mouth. The scent of your arousal intoxicates to him. You clench your legs together, to which Logan uses his thick, sturdy knee to break you open and apart. You feel exposed to him now, resting on his knee. The rough denim rubbing sends jolts to your throbbing core. The kissing is wet, his stubble rubs against your lips as he gently bites your tongue with his canines. His hand gently gropes your breast, while pushing his knee against your dampening soft area. He brings his calloused hand down back to your waist, slowly guiding your hips to rock against his knee. He uses his other hand against your head to gently grip your hair and push your head closer against his mouth.
Logan didn’t get you a birthday present, but he was definitely making up for it.
632 notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 23 days ago
Text
with you
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part one
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. established relationship from everybody talks - but can be read as a standalone! feelings of loneliness. some angst. unprotected sex. squirting. use of pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby). dirty talk. heaps and heaps of fluff. if something needs to be tagged, pls lmk!
words: just about 8.5k
notes: a huge thank you to @whatever-lmaoo for beta-ing for me yet again! i appreciate you so much!! and i know, i know, a little late for a halloween fic- but i guess it’s okay bc this isn’t really all that halloweeney lol. honestly a little more personal than usual but i hope you all enjoy it anyway. please let me know what you think and thank you in advance for taking the time to read! 🩵
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You’re pushing the basket, weaving your way through the aisles full of other semi last minute shoppers in search of their own Halloween costumes. You can’t get past a family spread out in the middle of the aisle as they contemplate their options aloud, no concern for the other people around them trying to shop. You suppress your eye roll but not the sigh of slight annoyance as you back up and move to the next aisle over, thankfully empty.
There aren’t many options here, but maybe something will give you an idea of what to dress up as. A couple minutes pass as you peruse the random assortment of costume accessories. Your mind is fully in idea mode as you try to piece something wearable together in your mind… you have that black maxi dress hanging in your closet, that could probably work as a good base.
You’re not paying attention to your surroundings as you nudge the basket further down the aisle while you examine two different pairs of long black gloves in your hands and take a step down the aisle to see the witch hats.
But do you really wanna be a witch? You purse your lips in thought before tossing the sets of gloves back into the big green cauldron you got them from. Your eyes linger on the witch section as you grasp the handle of the cart and start to push.
Before you set your head straight, you’re stopped in your path as you find yourself crashing into something. Oh gosh…
Someone.
Your apology is sputtering out past your lips before you can even turn to see the injured party, but once you do, and your eyes meet with sparkling blues, you stop your fumbling and sigh heavily in your relief.
“Oh, thank god,” you breathe as your shoulders relax. “I thought I actually hit someone.”
“Am I not someone?” Bucky scoffs with a hint of a smile on his lips.
“No, you are,” you assure him as you leave the basket and walk toward him, “but you’re my someone, so it’s okay and you have to forgive me.”
“Oh, I see,” he nods, eyeing you in your approach. You double check the aisle is still clear before kissing him, soft and fleeting.
“Did you find it?”
“Out of stock,” he frowns.
“Damn. We’ve looked everywhere, what now?”
“I don’t think ghosts lining the grass are gonna do much more than the full out display you’ve already set up, sweetheart. I think we’ll be okay,” he laughs.
“Yeah,” you sigh, a soft pout still on your lips, “you’re right. I just…”, a tight, heavy sigh leaves you as you shake your head, trailing off.
Bucky steps closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist, squeezing lightly.
“I know,” he says, softly.
You force a smile, taking his hand to hold in yours. “Alright, well, we got the candy and the groceries and the toothpaste,” you list aloud, trying to think if you’re forgetting anything.
“Toilet paper,” Bucky supplies, pushing the cart backwards before turning it to push it himself.
“Toilet paper! Who needs a list when I have you,” you lean into him as you walk before heading to the aisle ahead of him.
“Sweetheart?” Bucky calls from the kitchen as you wipe at the stray tear falling down your cheek. You blow your nose gently and close out of the app.
Another post of fall fun your nieces are having, and right below it another post from another costume party you weren’t invited to.
Don't let it get to you, you chide yourself. It's just the fomo sinking in. Nothing more.
You wipe at your cheeks before grabbing the door handle, calling down the stairs, "I'm coming!"
You make your way down the steps and are met at the bottom with Bucky, smiling like a schoolboy.
In his hands he holds a singular Halloween decoration.
"It's not light up ghosts, but,"
"It's perfect," you cut him off, smiling softly as you take the familiar ghost cutout from his hands.
You can't help but grin at the memory of your first Halloween with Bucky. Your first date. First meeting! God, it's been a whirlwind of a year.
Your eyes flicker to his and you immediately meet his stunning gaze; his already set on you.
"Just like you," he simpers.
You groan in jest, setting the cutout to rest along the stairs before you wrap your arms around him, leaning into his warm, solid hold. You sigh as he rubs your back comfortingly.
"Hey," he calls gently, causing you to pick up your head to look at him. "Talk to me. Please," he adds as your pout grows. "You've been off all week, what's going on?"
Your gaze drops to his chest as your arms drop from around him. He doesn't let you slip away as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the couch, pushing you down before he follows suit, wasting no time in getting you back in his hold once you're both comfortable. You let your head rest on his chest as he holds you.
"I miss my family," you say simply with a shrug.
He waits for more, but when he realizes you're done talking, he speaks himself.
"You've been missing them since we moved here," he presses, "I know it's not just that."
You mindlessly play with the buttons on his shirt, not able to make eye contact right now.
You swallow hard.
You know the truth, and you know Bucky deserves to know what you're thinking. After all, he did uproot his entire life for you after only knowing you five months...
"I just...I don't know."
You glance up at him, his eyes soft and gaze patient.
"I... What if this was just a huge mistake?" You ask. "Moving here. Just another stupid, selfish idea that I'm gonna regret by next year."
"Living your life away from your family isn't stupid or selfish," he says, no judgement in his soothing voice. "And, you know what we talked about before we moved here. No regrets. And if you decide you want to go back,"
"We go back," you nod. "I know."
"Well," he starts, "do you?"
"No," you answer right away. It's the truth. You don't. But still, that fear. The unknown, it nips at you. What if? "I knew this wasn't gonna be easy, but," you sigh, "what if I just don't belong here?"
His brows furrow, "Why wouldn't you?"
"It's been, what, seven months? And what do I have to show for it? And it's not just work-" you stop yourself before you start to rambling, taking a deep breath. "I haven't even made a single friend yet. All those sets and events and all those people I've met, and I just. I haven't fit in anywhere. No one...likes me," you trail off so quietly, not really wanting him to hear.
"Sweetheart, that is not true."
"You don't know that, Buck,"
"Oh, and you do?"
"I do. That gig on Monday," you stammer, embarrassed, "it's stupid," you try to brush off, not wanting to have to explain the memory.
He doesn't have to say a word with the look on his face.
You sigh, but continue.
"We were in between takes and everyone was talking, like, to each other in a group. And I was there, but like, I wasn't there. I was standing with everyone else and trying to be...engaging. But," you purse your lips as the embarrassment burns you anew. "And, they were talking about their plans for Halloween, and this girl said she was throwing a party, and she invited everyone, asked for their numbers so she could send them the information, and she got everyone's number. Except for mine. And I was just standing there, like, probably looking so lame," you try to laugh as your eyes sting, "pretending like I didn't notice, nonchalant," you breathe tightly, pulling at a loose thread on the little V of his henley.
"I followed some of the other people online for like, 'connections', ya know, for future work, and one of them posted pictures from the party, and like, everybody from that set was there. And it looked like so much fun. And, you know I don't even like parties," you throw out, "but...why wasn't I invited? Why," you pause, biting your tongue, "why didn't they like me?"
"Baby," Bucky coos, his touch featherlight and yet so stabilizing, "those are just a few people,"
"That wasn't an isolated incident, Bucky. That has been my entire life. I try not to let it bother me, but I try. So hard, I try to be...normal. Likeable. Friendly. And no matter what I do, or how well I think I play the part, I'm just a mess of introversion and social anxiety."
You can see how badly he wants to interrupt you and reassure you of your so-called perfection, but he doesn't. He lets you talk; he wants to hear you.
"You know how many parties I was invited to in school?" you ask rhetorically. "Not a single one. And the people I thought were my friends wer-" you shake your head. "I'd always try to console myself with the thought that it would get better as I got older, but I think...I think it actually hurts more now than it ever did back then. The nerds were friends with the nerds, and the popular kids were friends with the popular kids, and everybody had their group. But even in my 'group', I was just kinda there. Not alone, but alone. Fading into the background. Into the gray."
You sit in quiet for a long moment before continuing.
"But then I'd get home. And I'd be with my sisters, and all of a sudden I wasn't alone. And I was, like, really me. For forever, they were the only people who ever really, truly saw me. Who I was comfortable enough with to be myself," you turn into Bucky further, your hand still on his chest.
"Then I met you," you smile. "And I don't know how or why, but you see me."
"In technicolor," he whispers as he lets his knuckles brush your cheek. You close your eyes at his soft touch, melting further into him.
"I've just been feeling excluded, and then I start missing my sisters even more, and you know I love you, so much, but this job is just constant rejection and it all just piles on and I keep trying to get by without having to dwell on it all, but I know I can't keep doing that. I know I want to be here. And I can do this. It just, gets hard sometimes. And I've been getting in my head. And I'm sorry I haven't talked about it sooner. I don't want it to seem like I regret moving here, and I really don't want it to seem like I'm not so grateful that you're here with me. That you came all this way for me. It means the world; you mean the world to me."
"The feeling is mutual," Bucky simpers, the corner of his lips turning up as he watches you, his hand aimlessly wandering up and down your side. "I'd go anywhere with you, sweetheart. I know it's not the same, but for what it's worth, I like you. I'd want you at every party."
You smile at him as he cuddles you and can't help the fit of laughter that erupts from you as he squeezes you, nuzzling into your neck and peppering kisses along your delicate skin.
You catch your breath as he finally lets up and pulls away, only to lean his face closer to yours, kissing you softly.
"I'm really proud of you, you know. You're a lot stronger, and a lot braver than you give yourself credit for. And anyone would be lucky to be able to have you in their life, let alone to call you their friend. As your best friend, I should know," he adds playfully.
"You're my best friend?"
"And you're mine," he nods, eyes gleaming with that look that sends butterflies a flight in your tummy. Your eyes flick down to his lips for less than a second before he's kissing you again; just as soft, and twice as sweet.
"I love you," he murmurs.
"Iloveyou," you mumble back, just a little dumb from the depth of his kiss. You give yourselves a moment in your shared embrace before you speak again. "Okay," you sigh, "we gotta finish the yard so I can facetime the girls before they head out for trick or treating."
Bucky rolls off the couch before pulling you up after him as you extend your arm expectantly.
You’re surprised as Bucky’s hold doesn’t let up and he tugs you into him. You stare at him, eyes wide and curious.
“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling bad lately. Whatever you wanna do tonight, and tomorrow,” he emphasizes as you smile demurely, “you got it.”
“Because that wasn’t gonna happen anyway?” You tease, earning a smirk from him as you reach for his hand to drag him to the front of the house.
You pause in your path and spin to go grab your favorite little ghost decoration from the steps.
“I know exactly where this is going.”
The familiar ring of the Facetime call has you growing more and more giddy with anticipation as you wait your sister's answer.
But the longer you wait, the more fallen your smile becomes.
Your FaceTime isn't answered, but not too long after, your phone dings with a text.
The girls went trick or treating early, no connection. Sorry! Try to call you back later. But send pics of the yard whenever! We need to see!
You deflate at the news. You guys had planned this, they knew how excited you were to show the girls the house yourself - or as close as you could get. Stuff happens, and by now you've come to accept that when it comes to kids, plans rarely ever play out the way you'd like. But still.
You sigh as Bucky watches you intently, noticing your shift in mood instantly. You can already see how the rest of the night will go. They'll get back from trick or treating and try to call, but you'll inevitably miss it, and once you do get another moment to call back, the girls will already be asleep. Pics will be it.
And that's...okay. You're disappointed, of course, but really, it's okay. You’re sure had you not talked to Bucky about how you’d been feeling lately, you’d be in tears right about now. But having gotten some of your frustration and anxiety out has helped. Just being around him has helped. You didn’t realize before that you’d been in and out of the house all week with classes and work and now that you think about it, this is the first day you’ve been able to spend actual time with Bucky, too. No wonder you were feeling so isolated.
"Can't talk right now?" Bucky asks as he steps closer to you in the front yard.
"Nope," you pop the 'p'. "Trick or treating early. I'm just gonna send 'em some pictures I guess."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he tries to comfort you, pulling you into his side as you both look on at the Halloween decorations littering the yard. "I know you wanted to share it with them."
"'S'okay," you smile a small smile, leaning into him. "I still had fun doing this with you. Thank you for your assistance," you add, fluttering your gaze up to meet his.
"Anytime. Anything to see that smile,” he adds, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your cheek, sending warmth through you at the affection.
“Guess we should get the candy ready,” you muse.
“And your costume on.”
“I didn’t pick anything,” you frown. “I don’t really feel like dressing up anyway. Besides,” you turn into him, “all the kids, and moms, are coming to see you,” you nudge him with a smirk on your lips.
He shakes his head, trying to fight his blush as he rolls his eyes at you. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”
You laugh at the memory of your first week here; everyday was a new woman coming over under the guise of welcoming the new neighbors to the neighborhood. You knew after the second platter of unexpected cookies that word was spreading fast about a certain super soldier taking up residence in their lovely - and expensive - neighborhood; you had sworn to Bucky you didn’t need to move into a place so big, and a part of you was worried you wouldn’t be able to pull your weight financially if you did, but he swore he would prefer it. You didn’t necessarily believe that was his only reason for wanting to spend more on a nicer place, but how could you argue? Especially after he made it clear that he wouldn’t be accepting any money from you for rent. He let you connect your card for the monthly water bill, but that has been it. And you’re absolutely not complaining! But you don’t know you ever imagined this kind of thing would happen.
Until the very day you moved in, you were constantly thinking you were dreaming. But when you noticed the watchful eyes of the neighbors as you brought your boxes in, you realized it couldn’t be.
This was real.
You couldn’t blame their curiosity, but you could blame their forwardness. The way they fawned over Bucky in front of you - all the while ignoring your eye when they’d come over to introduce themselves - was both irksome and, kind of funny.
You only really started to get annoyed when you noticed how uncomfortable it was making Bucky. At the first sign of his discomfort, you found yourself ushering the door shut with a new, outlandish lie every time. But always thanking them for their treats, of course, as you’d close the door.
It’s been almost seven months since you moved in, and the fascination with Bucky has waned slightly, but has yet to fade completely.
“Never,” you laugh. “But it’s not like it’s a bad thing. You, my love," you take his face in your hands, his stubble rough against your palms, "are very, very handsome,” you murmur. “And mysterious, and brooding to the outside eye. It’s hard to ignore you. You're like a magnet of intrigue. It's sexy.”
“Sexy?” He huffs. “I’m not brooding.”
You scoff, “Hah, I wish you could see your face right now,” you say disbelieving; the irony of his words obvious as the furrow of his brows and his frown cause your lips to twitch in a soft smirk.
He fixes his face at your laugh, eyeing you with that ever familiar glimmer of growing want. His hands cover yours as he walks you back, closer to the house.
"So, you think I'm sexy?" he speaks lowly, his grip on you firm as he slides your hands from his face to his chest, down his thick torso as you watch him - your eyes growing heavy as you watch him. It's like you're in a trance.
Your back suddenly hits the front door and you're snapped out of your state, surprised by the contact and even more by the distance you've walked in what felt like a second.
"Yes," you utter after a second, Bucky pressing closer. "I do." Your fingers flex against his abdomen as he leans into you. His nose brushes yours as he teases you with the prospect of his kiss until the door unexpectedly opens behind you; Bucky having turned the knob with his metal hand from around you.
You gasp at the loss of contact with the door, inching back despite yourself - worrying for a split second you were about to find yourself on your ass. But in the same instant, Bucky's hands are around you, keeping you in place.
"I got you," he reassures you; voice deeper now than it was a second ago.
You can only nod as you’re caught once again in his crystal blue gaze.
You really should expect it when he picks you up, but you gasp anyway at his easy display of strength when he takes you off your feet and carries you inside.
“It’s a good thing you don’t have a costume, actually,” he says as he walks past the couch toward the stairs. “No need for you to be dressed.”
You nearly scream as Bucky bounds up the steps, holding you securely with a grin plastered on his face as you cling to him. Not a second later he’s walking you into the bedroom and setting you down carefully to sit on the bed.
“If we’re handing out candy, I’m gonna need to be dressed,” you point out the obvious, trying your best to not look so flustered as he stands in front of you. Tall, strong, and imposing; his eyes darkened as he holds your gaze. You take in a nervous breath as you look up at him and he takes a step closer. You lean back on your arms and wait for his next move.
Bucky slows gets to his knees before you and just as he reaches for your hips to pull you closer to him - there’s a knock on the front door.
He squeezes his eyes shut in his temporary disappointment, grimacing before he shoots up. “I knew that was gonna happen,” he sighs, earning a breathy laugh from you.
“Already got a better turnout than last year,” you offer despite your own momentary disappointment.
He shakes his head with a soft smile as he takes you in. “Nothing could ever beat the turnout last year,” he says thoughtfully, “not by a long shot.”
You smile softly at his meaning as he turns to head back downstairs and get the door.
You hear him open the kitchen cabinet where the candy bars are and then hear his ‘Happy Halloween’ greeting. By the sounds of it, there must be a group or two of trick or treaters already out there.
You ponder your options for a quick second before deciding to go with your gut. You know he won’t mind having to get the door himself tonight for all the trick or treaters - especially if you’re not dressed to do so yourself.
You open the middle drawer of your dresser and spot the red lingerie set instantly. It is your anniversary after all…
You and Bucky agreed to call November 1st your anniversary, just for celebration sake, but you know the truth.
Your thoughts catch up with you as you quickly strip and mindlessly slide on the lacy underwear and bra.
Your anniversary. Duh! You wondered why you hadn’t seen much of Bucky this week! He’s usually so attentive and when he’s not working on his bike or car or catching up on the many items of his list to read/watch/listen to, he’s wrapped up in you. Retiree life has been good to him, and you’ve never had to vie for his attention or affection. This week though, he has clearly been preoccupied. And now you realize why. He’s up to something…
You drag the stockings up your legs and pray they stay up your thick thighs for long enough as you hear the door downstairs shut. You curse under your breath but are quickly saved by another knock at the door before Bucky even heads back up the steps. You forget looking for the straps that connect the faux garter to the underwear and head for the bathroom to make sure you don’t look insane.
You fix your hair a bit, but the worn look suits the occasion and the slightly smudged liner adds to the sex appeal. You adjust the bra strap on your shoulder and a flicker of a smile forms on your lips. You look good. A renewed sense of giddy finds you as you spin to the door and walk back into the room. You listen for Bucky downstairs and are satisfied as you hear the last “thank you!” from the kids at the door.
You walk out into the hall and stop at the top of the staircase. You can see Bucky from where you stand and he’s able to see you from downstairs, too. You put a hand on the banister, posing just a bit as you wait patiently for him to turn around. You watch as he sets the bowl on the entryway table and turns quickly to get back upstairs.
He stops dead in his tracks the second he spots you. His mouth parting as he stares at your chest, slowly letting his eyes rove over your scantily clad curves and down your legs before he looks back up and meets your wanton gaze. The look of faux innocence playing on your face only riling him up more.
It feels like a play of cat and mouse as you stand at the top of the stairs and he stands at the bottom. His gaze heated, eyes hungry.
“You coming back up or should I meet you down there?” you ask demurely.
He’s cut off from answering you with a new knock on the door. He nearly growls and you could laugh at how differently his experience with trick or treaters - or lack there of - was last year.
Bucky turns back to get the door, putting on a smile as he greets the new group of kids and lets them choose what candy bar they’d like. For his part, he really is happy the neighborhood kids aren’t scared of him here! But at the same time, it’s technically his anniversary; and the love of his life is dressed in nothing more than his favorite lingerie, waiting for him so fucking prettily right up those stairs.
He doesn’t think much before making his decision. The last kid makes their choice and the group is on their way as he shuts the door. He heads into the kitchen, feeling you watch him quizzically. He tears a piece of paper off of the notepad on the counter and gets a sharpie from the kitchen drawer.
PLEASE TAKE ONE
He writes it in all caps and heads back to the door.
You lean more onto the banister to see what he’s doing from where you stand. You raise a brow as he moves the entryway table closer to the door before he opens it and sets it outside with the candy bowl sitting on top of it. That’s one way to do it, you think with a smile tugging at your lips.
Bucky slips the piece of paper under the edge of the bowl so it’s visible and then comes right back inside. He’s coming up the stairs within seconds and heading right for you.
You laugh in surprise as Bucky grabs you by the waist, pulling you close to him. His eyes are heavy as his hands squeeze you, wandering your curves. You almost moan when he grabs your ass, pulling you into him fully as you brace against his solid chest.
You’ll never get over how good it feels to be felt by him. His strength evident in his every touch, and yet so soft as he caresses you. His lips ghost your cheek and your ear as he breathes you in and you arch into him, wanting - needing more.
His fingers begin to play with the lace of your bra band, tickling you as he does. “My favorite,” he husks lowly, kissing your neck and sending a shiver through you as you pull at his shirt. “Special occasion?” he asks with a smirk.
Your hands find the waist of his pants, “None that I can think of,” you pretend to ponder.
You moan into him as Bucky suddenly kisses you hard. What you expect to be hot and fervent slows to something deeper and more intimate as you melt into him.
You inevitably have to pull away for air after a bit and murmur against his lips as he holds you, “Oh, right,” you breathe, “we have our anniversary.”
“Thought you wanted to call it tomorrow,” he smiles.
You lick your lip lightly with a shrug, “Couldn’t wait.”
His answer is another searing kiss as he walks you back toward the room. You’re pushed onto the bed and find yourself in the same position you were earlier, leaning back on your hands as you watch Bucky watching you.
He reaches down with one hand and undoes his belt effortlessly, popping his button and sliding down the zipper before he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, kicking off his boots right after. His pants are next before he closes in on you, crawling on top of you as you lay back on the bed, eyes still locked and dark with your mutual desire.
His hands trail from your hips, up the curve of your waist as he positions himself between your spread thighs.
“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you as he lets his eyes wander your body once more. He leans down and earns a breathy gasp from you as he starts placing soft kisses down your neck, your chest, over the tops of your breasts before he takes hold of the clasp of the bra sitting on your sternum.
He undoes it easy and pushes the cups to the side, revealing you to him. You sit up a bit to shimmy out of the garment and throw it off the bed. His large hands hold your breasts and he plays with you, squeezing and running his thumbs over your already peaked nipples - earning a pathetic mewl from you at the sensation it send through you. His lips wrap around your tit, tongue swirling around your sensitive nipple as he sucks at you, sending your eyes back and your hands grasping his grown out hair. Your lips parting in a silent gasp.
He licks and sucks at your tit, big hand playing with the other until he switches his attentions. All the while, your moans and tugs at his hair have him growing impossibly harder as his cock strains against his briefs.
He mindlessly grinds his hips against you and you whimper. “Please, Bucky,” you whine, trying to roll your hips against him in turn.
He sucks a little more on your tit before he moves down your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. You’re partly surprised he listened to your ambiguous plea without teasing you just a little longer, but as his fingers pull at the band of your underwear, you realize he’s just as desperate as you.
It has been a long week; the longest you’ve gone without each other in the year you’ve been together.
Bucky pulls away to rid himself of his briefs, his thick cock hard and angry. You can practically feel your mouth salivate as the slickness between your thighs grows. Fuck, he’s perfect.
“Need it, Buck. Need you,” you plead, spreading your thighs even further as he leans back into you.
“I know, sweetheart,” he teases his cock head along your slit, “gonna give it to you, baby. Gonna give you what you need,” he promises.
He lines himself up to your entrance, pushing his tip just inside of you as you moan on a heavy breath.
You hum your pleasure, a delighted smile gracing your lips as he slowly pushes further in; his deep, heady breaths turning you on even more as his hands grip your hips.
“Feel good, doll?” He husks. “You’re squeezin’ me so tight,” he grunts. “Perfect fuckin fit,” he grits through his clenched jaw as he fucks you, his thickness stretching you with every thrust of his cock. Your walls clench his length as you moan - the feeling of being full of him, of his heavy balls slapping against your skin, the way his dirty words always set you off more than you’d ever expect… This is pure fucking heaven. You can’t help yourself. It's not very long before you find yourself already feeling so dangerously close to your undoing.
“Like you were made for me,” he growls, “made to take my fat fuckin cock just. like. this.” He punctuates each of his last few words with a hard thrust, hitting so deep you swear you’re seeing stars. You can do nothing but babble your agreement as your hands wander his body, one wandering back into the dark strands of his hair.
As much as you love holding him, you know how much he likes the feeling of you tugging at his growing strands, too; so you do just that.
His lips brush along your jaw as you tilt your head for him. His stubble tickling you in the best way.
“Never gonna get over how fucking good you feel wrapped around me. How goddamn beautiful you look under me. Fucked out and cock drunk the minute I get my dick inside your tight little pussy. Always so fucking wet for me, desperate for it.”
You swear you’re on the verge of tears as the coil in your tummy tightens more and more with his every word. Your legs are around him as he rolls his hips into you, his cock brushing all the right spots as he finds your lips. You’re moaning into his hot mouth as he kisses you. In sharp contrast to his words, it’s soft and sweet, his nose rubbing against yours as he moves his tongue expertly. His teeth gently nip at your lips as he pulls his face away for a second before pressing his forehead to yours. His hands are tight on your hips as he tries to control himself from getting carried away. A week is just too long and you’re both already reaching closer and closer to your ends.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groans, sounding almost pained as his eyes squeeze shut, his thrusts growing the slightest bit erratic as you feel him tense above you.
“Come inside me,” you beg on a whimper. “Please, please,” you mewl. “Wanna feel you. Need it.”
The growl of curses that leave him as he fucks you deeper have your muscles tensing, your velvety walls clenching down around his length as the hair on his pelvis stimulates your sensitive clit with every roll of his hips. You’re a mess of moans and heady gasps as you cling to him, your body tight in the impossibly building pleasure as your toes curl and that coil finally snaps; white hot heat and sparks of overwhelming pleasure taking over you as you cum.
“Fuck,” Bucky moans, “that’s it, baby. So fuckin’ good. Look at you, so pretty coming for me,” he kisses you sloppily as your skin burns and your pussy flutters.
Your orgasm seems never ending as Bucky works you through it. His hands grasp at you, feeling your softness and bringing him closer to his own orgasm as your walls squeeze his cock while you cum.
His lips press to yours as he swallows your wanton sounds, kissing you hotly before licking into your mouth sensually. He keeps one hand on your hip to hold you where he needs you and brings the other to hold your face. He can’t get enough of your lips, your kiss, your taste. All the while rocking his hips into yours, his cock moving in and out of your slick, tight hole.
The pulsing of your sensitive walls around his length finally have him cumming hard. His seed hot and thick, spurting along your walls as he fills you up. Your name is both a curse and a prayer as it falls from his lips amidst sweet praises and filthy words. You’re panting and smiling through the growing overstimulation as Bucky’s thrusts slow but don’t completely stop just yet. His thumb brushes your cheek as he presses his forehead to yours again, his brilliant blue eyes glued to you before he leans in to brush his lips against yours.
You kiss him back, holding him to you with a hand still in his hair. Your kiss grows deeper as he thrust just once or twice more before stilling; his lips so soft as he slowly pulls away, breathing heavily.
He hisses so quietly you almost don’t hear it while he slides out of you at last, leaving you a dripping mess in his wake.
You stare at him as he looks entranced by the sight of your orgasms smeared all over you. You take a sharp breath as he gingerly brings two fingers to your cunt, slipping inside you easily and fucking what he can of his excess back into you. You expect him to stop but he just doesn’t.
He works his thick digits in and out, his mouth parted open and his eyes set on the way you suck him in so easily. You whine at the building pressure as he finger fucks you, already too close to another orgasm. Your hand is holding his strong arm as your eyes threaten to roll back.
“Bucky,” you whimper, “fuck, I’m gonna come again.”
Your words spur him on as he moves more precisely, hitting exactly where he knows you need him to. With his free hand, he brings his thumb to your clit and rubs in tight circles as your voice peaks and your legs shake. You’re nearly blinded by the orgasm as it hits you and the sound of Bucky cursing makes its way to your ears. You weren’t expecting it but as Bucky shakes his fingers inside you, prolonging your high like it’s the only thing in the world he’s concerned with - your pleasure, you - you realize you’re practically gushing as you squirt all over his fingers. You hear his voice but not his words as Bucky talks you through it.
It’s not the first time you’ve come so hard at his whim, but fuck, you’re exhausted as you slowly come down. You whimpered despite yourself as you open your eyes and Bucky gently slips out of you. He leans over you again as you gaze dizzily at him before he kisses you delicately.
“Did so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek before he gets up off the bed completely.
You lie there, trying to recoup and catch your breath until he comes back not long after, a pair of his sweats low on his hips and a damp cloth in his hand, a glass of water in the other.
He sets the glass down on the bedside table before tending to you. He wipes gently at the mess between your legs, cleaning you up with the warm cloth before discarding it with the clothes and coming to sit next to where you lay.
“You okay?” He asks, that ever present concern evident in his voice as his hands gently start to wander your soft body.
You smile and nod at him, taking one of his hands in yours. “Better than okay,” you simper. “Was not expecting that,” you add, “but god.” You sit up and cling to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “That’s one way to celebrate a year.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, turning to stand and pull you off the bed with him, “that wasn’t even the celebration.”
You smile and walk slowly to the closet to grab a night shirt, slipping it on before grabbing a pair of panties from your drawer. “I knew you were planning something,” you eye him playfully, coming up to wrap your arms around him.
He smirks, hugging you back for a second before just deciding to lift you up. “You get so cuddly after sex,” he laughs.
“Me?!” you laugh out, hugging onto him as he walks toward the door of your bedroom, “take a look in the mirror, buddy.”
“Fine,” he agrees, starting down the steps, “you’re right, we both do.”
“That’s just good compatibility,” you muse as he walks you into the den.
“Great compatibility,” he one ups. “It’s almost like,” he pauses a second, setting you down on the oversized sleeper chaise before he leans down to you, “we were made for each other.”
You lean up to meet his lips in a quick, gentle kiss. “Yeah,” you agree softly, a smile beginning to form on your lips. You bite your lip as you watch him go back out toward the front living room. He peeks out the window to make sure no one’s out there before he opens the door.
There's a pause as he takes in the scene outside...or lack thereof. “The candy’s gone!” He yells to you in disbelief.
You can’t help your snicker as he turns to look at you across the way, empty bowl in hand. He waves it, still seeming in shock; like this possibility never crossed his mind.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” you laugh, “but good thing you have like twelve more cases,” you remind him. He licks his lips as he stares at the empty bowl, shaking his head slightly. A second later, you see his brow raise as he starts to straighten up, but you aren't sure what he's reacting to until you hear her voice.
“Trick or treat,” a sultry voice comes from behind Bucky as he still stands at the open door. His eyes widen before he sighs, slowly turning to face the most persistent of his neighborly admirers.
You quirk a brow at her lack of company and strain to hear better.
“Sorry to bother,” she smiles, eyes dragging down Bucky’s solid - still shirtless - chest before she manages to rein herself in and snap her gaze back up to his. “I’m in the middle of mixing up some cookie dough but I ran out of flour. Paul and Michael are busy running their fun house or I’d have them go grab me a bag. Do you think you’d be able to lend me a cup?” You are slightly irked at the change of tone in her last question. She sounds flirty and though Bucky is mostly blocking her from your view, from what you can see, it seems like she’s leaning in closer to him. “We just had a rush of trick or treaters but it’s so quiet around here now. Paul’s so preoccupied with that set up though, I don’t even think he’d notice if I went missing,” she laughs, her toothy grin rubbing you the wrong way as her lashes flutter.
“Uh,” Bucky clears his throat awkwardly, “yeah, we probably have some flour we can spare. Give me a minute.”
“Oh, yo-“ she takes a step forward with her words but is cut off by the closing of the door.
You get up with a tilt of your head and follow Bucky into the kitchen quickly. “Did she just hit on you?” you ask incredulously.
Bucky eyes you as he sets the empty bowl on the counter and walks to the cabinet. “I could see how you could think that,” he avoids a real answer through his embarrassment.
You huff a laugh, walking to the drawer you keep the measuring cups in, grabbing the cup, smirking. “She is somethin’ else.” You sidle up to Bucky as he opens the jar of flour. You lean into him, holding out the cup for him to take, “But, I guess, who can blame her? You know what they say, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”
Bucky chuckles with a roll of his eyes as he grabs it from you, scooping up the cup of flour. You’re confused as he tries to hand the cup back to you.
“What?”
“Go give it to her,” he nudges you.
“I’m not wearing pants,” you state the obvious.
“I don’t have a shirt on,” he argues.
“She already saw you,” you nudge him back with a titter.
“Please,” he breathes a light laugh, but you see the seriousness of his request in his eyes. His discomfort is evident, and you don’t know how you didn’t recognize it earlier.
You don’t know everything he went through, but you know enough to know how important Bucky’s privacy is to him - and that includes physically. He is the only one who should be able to decide who sees him, when, and how much of him they see. Of course, no one should be treated like an object, but you get the feeling it can feel a lot worse for Bucky than it can for the typical person.
You take the cup with a soft smile, “Okay, yeah,” you acquiesce. “You should open another box while you’re at it,” you nod toward the cabinet where the boxes of candy bars are before turning around to get the door.
You open it with a smile, trying to hide your bare legs with the door as you hold out the cup of flour. “There you go,” you offer.
“Oh! I didn’t, ha-“ she laughs lightly, “didn’t even realize you were home.” She looks down, moving some hair behind her ears before she reaches for the cup.
You smile brighter as you take a step from behind the door. “Yeah,” you say simply. What the hell does she mean she didn't think you were home?
“Well, thank you,” she smiles tightly, trying to not look at your bare legs. The implication of your and Bucky’s lack of clothing, his messed hair, and your smudged makeup all hanging in the air. “Happy Halloween,” she adds before turning around and heading back down the path.
“Mhm, Happy Halloween,” you return before shutting the door. Unbelievable. But you know you have less than nothing to worry about, so you let it go. Hopefully this interaction will finally be the one to get her off of Bucky's back.
You spin around and find Bucky behind you, eyes having been set on your ass as he holds the newly filled bowl of candy. His eyes shoot up to meet yours as you deprive him of the view. That heated gaze back in his ice blue eyes as he trails up and down your body again.
“See something you like?” You ask teasingly, popping a hip as you cross one leg in front of the other.
“Not something,” he swipes his tongue against his bottom lip unthinking, “everything.”
You go closer to him, a soft, flattered smile in place as you take the bowl of candy from him. “Why don’t you go pick a movie, and I’ll start on dinner in a minute.”
“I already ordered delivery, should be here in about half an hour.”
“Oh?” you raise a brow, reaching back to the door to put out the candy again.
“Mhm,” he hums, his hand in his pocket as he leans, watching you as you close the door shut and turn back to him.
“I thought you said we’d do whatever I wanna do tonight?”
“‘M sorry, doll,” he reaches a hand to you that you take, letting him tug you into him and walk you back into the den. “What do you wanna do?”
You try to bite down your smile as you get to the chaise, Bucky turning to look at you as he waits for your answer. You take the opportunity to slowly push him back, essentially guiding him down as your push had no real physical effect. He watches you with curious, patient eyes as he lets you lead until you bring yourself up to straddle him; his gaze darkening instantly as his hands find your waist, slowly feeling you down, fingers kneading your soft, plushy curves as he wanders down your hips, making his way to grabbing your ass.
You settle a little more comfortably on top of him, your hands on his chest before letting your fingers dance all over his thick torso. You smile, letting yourself answer simply and honestly.
“You.”
You’re cuddled up to Bucky as you lay on the chaise, bellies full and feeling satiated and satisfied - in every way. The blanket keeps you warm, but being this close to Bucky keeps you even warmer. You’ve run out of candy, and the porch lights are out as the Halloween classic plays on the screen before you - volume low as you and Bucky talk more than you watch the film.
“It’s kinda crazy when you think about it,” you say. “We’ve been together for essentially the entire time we’ve known each other. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten tired of me yet,” you laugh a little at yourself.
He looks you deep in the eye, a confused half smile on his lips as his brows furrow ever so slightly. “How could I ever get tired of you? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, doll.”
You are taken aback, despite the commonplace of his adamant affection and feelings, at the intense sincerity of his words, the way he’s looking at you. Like he sees you.
Really see you.
Because he does. And somehow, for whatever reason…
“I love you,” he whispers, completing your thought without knowing it as he leans in to kiss you. Your noses brush as he kisses you softly, slow and delicate before it grows just that much deeper. You slow again and with a few lighter kisses, finally part to breathe properly, though you never leave his embrace.
“I’ve had a year with you,” he speaks softly, running his fingers up and down your arm, “and it’s been one of the best years of my life,” he measures his words before finishing his thought as you gaze up at him, “because of you. And I think I’m gonna need a lifetime more,” he decides, “at least.”
You can’t help your smile at his words as you nuzzle into him. “A lifetime, huh? ...I think I could be okay with that,” you say lowly, a teasing tone edging in your words.
You know you’d be okay with that.
Bucky’s heart skips a beat at your agreement and he grows a bit more excited for what he has planned for tomorrow. It all starts with breakfast, and if things go right, it’ll end with one very important question.
“Happy anniversary, Bucky,” you mumble into him as your eyes grow heavy. “I love you. So much. This has been a really perfect night,” you smile softly.
“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he kisses your head, holding you closer as you slowly drift off in his loving embrace.
Your gentle breathing calms the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of tomorrow. Any nerves can wait until then.
It’s been a year, and now he can’t wait for the rest of his life.
With you.
—-
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a/n that no one asked for: thank you so much for reading! getting ahead of this now - there will not be a part three. this took so long to get through and i just can’t commit to any more sequels of anything. 😭 you are, of course, free to head canon what comes next however you’d like! though if you’re curious, in my mind these two get engaged the next day and idk maybe sometime around Christmas they find out they’re pregnant? but babies or no babies, work works out for reader and everything is good and lovely and they make friends and are able to see family more often and blah blah blah they live happily ever after! lol again, thank you very much for reading!🥰 let me know if you enjoyed it, feel free to share your thoughts. <3
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