#and instead of feeling the production’s insecurity
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kerrste · 7 months ago
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Quick sketch cause I watched the first movie yesterday
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qoldenskies · 29 days ago
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I feel you with the mental health issues. I had a breakdown today over an objectively small problem. One nap later and I'm still a bit melted. My return to humanity will be slow
i honestly just kind of listen to my gut and my, like, two month long feeling of anticipation (/pos) crashed into anticipation (/neg) and now im suddenly expecting something bad to happen for such a small meaningless reason that shouldn't realistically have that much weight im just weird LOL
idek what i was expecting before. i kept thinking SOMETHING was going to happen but now its been replaced by like. ive fallen off. ive not made anything worth talking about and my work is useless forEVERRRRRR and i bet in like a day or two im gonna be me like Man what the fuck was that. Anyway
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seeminglyseph · 9 months ago
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having now read the manga one of the funniest things to me now is watching people talk about Sugishita's hair when watching the anime and assuming he's like. a raggedy man with split ends who doesn't do shit with his hair or whatever. And the reality is the man gets hair treatments once a month???? he just hates tying it up.
This is not a raggedy man with untamed hair, this is a vain motherfucker with long luscious locks of hair he refuses to tie up, cut or hide.
That long hair is a risk in a fight and a sign of cockiness and indulgence because he still loves that long hair enough to keep it and maintain it.
That's the opposite of the raggedy neglectful long hair trope. this delinquent has long hair because of hard work and effort. That hair's probably healthier than I am.
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lilliryth · 2 years ago
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On the subject of Forbidden Tumblr Posts About Makeup … one thing that always really puts me in a dilemma is the problem of inclusivity within the beauty industry. A brand will come out with a variety of shades for all skintones, and half of me wants to be like, “Yes! Diversity win!” and the other half is thinking, “Isn’t it kind of fucked up that a product made to hide and/or change your face has become such a social necessity for women that making sure Black Girls Can Hide Their Face Too is a diversity win?” I don’t know dude.
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heckling-hydrena · 2 months ago
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I have a complicated relationship with the concept of microlabels and more specifically aspec microlabels, because on one hand I have nothing against people who want to use a term that more closely describes their experiences it's literally none of my business good for them etc. but on the other hand I do think that sometimes people feel pushed to use microlabels because there are sooo many misconceptions about what asexuality and aromanticism actually are. so for example people who are just discovering their identity will try to connect with other aspecs, realize their experiences don't fully match every other aspec's experiences and get insecure, and that leads to interactions like "is it normal that I'm aromantic but I like shipping and romcoms?" "that actually means you're aegoromantic!" like it doesn't have to! it literally doesn't have to you don't have to identify as aego you can just call yourself aromantic! I feel like it would be way more productive to put effort into dispelling the idea that there's a 'proper' way to be asexual/aromantic instead of creating a microlabel for every experience that doesn't match common stereotypes.
and I'm gonna talk about asexuality specifically here because asexuality is still talked about so much more often (sorry to the aroallo warriors out there) but we've, and I can only assume this is a consequence of the stupid fucking ace discourse, internalized this weird idea that anyone who doesn't 100% fit into the category of 'never felt sexual attraction ever + no libido + sex-repulsed + never even THINKS about sex' either needs to use a microlabel or maybe even isn't really asexual. I've genuinely seen people ask "can I be asexual if I masturbate" "can I be asexual if I think this fictional character is hot" like YES? YES OBVIOUSLY? who is making you feel like you can't call yourself asexual point them out in the crowd for me tell me their name and their home address.
not to mention the fringe group of idiots (and I'll be real it's mostly weirdo terfs saying this shit) who are like "ohhh I feel bad for the REAL asexuals IF they even EXIST because these STRAIGHT people who don't put out on the first date are HIJACKING their community" which pisses me off so bad every time I see it. who the fuck are you to speak for me? keep your forked tongue behind your teeth etc etc.
like idk! people are totally allowed to call themselves aceflux and quoiromantic and fray and litho and whatever they want, but they should never feel like they have to! and it's become abundantly clear that some are being made to feel like they have to.
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blythesarchives · 26 days ago
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Just As You Are. | B.B
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summary: He tries his best for Valentine's Day.
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warnings: Smut | 18+ MDNI | Fluff | CW!Bucky x Fem!reader | Cunnilingus | PiV sex | Light dirty talk | Unprotected sex | Slightly insecure Bucky
a/n: I'm not big into Valentine's Day just because it feels very commercialized to me, but I like imagining it with Bucky. This plot changed so many times lmao but I think I am satisfied with how this turned out. If you're allergic to strawberries, just imagine a different fruit. Not beta read. ;; wc: 4.2k
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Bucky stood motionless in the bustling store, his steely eyes fixed with a deep frown upon the endless aisle dedicated to Valentine's Day merchandise.
He didn't remember it being so...big back in the day. The sheer volume of products and options left him feeling completely overwhelmed, his mind drifting back to simpler times when a thoughtful bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolate were considered more than acceptable tokens of affection for your sweetheart.
Now, he watched as frantic shoppers rushed past him, their arms laden with elaborate bouquets, towers of candy boxes, and enormous stuffed bears that seemed to grow more ridiculously sized with each passing year.
There were some shoppers who took a different approach, selecting items for personalized gift baskets filled with practical things like cozy socks or fragrant bath bombs. That seemed more personalized with his old-fashioned sensibilities, but you weren't particularly fond of long soaks in the tub, making that option feel somehow inadequate.
A wave of insecurity washed over him unexpectedly. Despite knowing that you had never once demonstrated materialistic tendencies or pressured him for presents, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he should be showering you with gifts. Traditional values ingrained in him insisted that as the man in the relationship, this was his role to fulfill. His heart warmed slightly at the mental image of you beaming with delight over an armful of fresh flowers or savoring each piece from a velvet-lined, heart-shaped box of premium, ridiculously expensive chocolates.
Truthfully, he felt completely lost about what would be the perfect gift for you. The confident, charming young man he used to be - the one who could effortlessly capture a lady's attention with just a well-timed smile or clever word - seemed like a stranger from another lifetime. These days, the gazes that would drift to him were filled with suspicion and barely concealed hostility.
Defeated and increasingly anxious, Bucky turned away from the crowded store aisle, his mind spinning with uncertainty as he struggled to think of what to get you for this special occasion. As he made his way through the bustling shop, he passed by an enthusiastic florist who was eagerly displaying enormous bouquets of perfectly arranged, vibrant red roses.
The vendor was encouraging every passing customer to purchase one, his sales pitch well-rehearsed and persistent. The sight made Bucky recall a conversation from several months ago, where you had expressed your views on traditional romantic gestures. You explained that while roses were undeniably a sweet and romantic gesture, they felt somewhat predictable and conventional to you. Too ordinary, you had said, preferring instead gifts that showed genuine thought and consideration.
"Sure, roses are beautiful. I think they're a wonderful gift for birthdays or valentine's, whatever. But...I don't know. Everyone gets roses. I would be happy but it would also sort of feel like you didn't really try, since they're so abundant and common. It makes them feel less special. Hopefully that doesn't make me sound snobbish. I'd rather get a more personalized bouquet or...one with my favorite flowers instead." You glanced up at Bucky who was nodding and listening, remembering, for later.
Though the roses were beautiful, their pristine petals catching the store's fluorescent lighting to aid in their deep crimson coloration, Bucky could practically envision the polite but slightly underwhelmed expression that would cross your face if he chose such a common option.
Plus...why were flowers so expensive these days? A dozen roses for almost a hundred dollars? The modern pricing was ridiculous - back in his day, that kind of money could have bought several weeks' worth of groceries. Besides, a lot of the bouquets contained wilted flowers. If he got you a bouquet, each and every flower would be alive and well.
He didn't want to leave without getting you something special, something that would bring a genuine smile to your face. He stood there for several long moments, running his flesh hand through his hair as he considered what kind of gift would truly resonate with you, something that would perfectly balance thoughtfulness with appropriateness while still managing to surprise you.
After spending what felt like hours wandering through the store's aisles and watching other men pick the big red hearts off the shelves without a second thought, he began to carefully examine each heart-shaped box of chocolates, reading every label and ingredient list to ensure he found the exact type of varieties you had mentioned loving. Finally satisfied with a winner, he put it in the basket he grabbed.
Moving through the store, he made his way to the stuffed animal section, where he spent considerable time comparing different plush versions of your favorite animal, wanting to select the one with the perfect expression and the softest fur. That one looked too grumpy, that one looked lopsided, that one wasn’t proportioned right - but he found the perfect one.
Then rather than settling for a pre-arranged bouquet, he thoughtfully handpicked each individual flower, remembering all the times you had pointed out different blooms during your walks together, creating a personalized arrangement that represented all your favorites. Even with the care and attention he put into each gift selection, a nagging feeling of inadequacy crept in - everything he chose, while thoughtful, still felt too ordinary.
Bucky shook his head and paid for the items, ignoring the feeling.
Back at home, he arranged everything perfectly. He individually wrapped each item, positioning them precisely in the basket alongside the plush animal and chocolates. Taking his time with the flowers, he trimmed each stem at exactly the right angle and arranged them in the vase until the composition was just right. When Bucky finally stepped back to assess his work, his heart sank slightly, and he let out a frustrated sigh.
The entire arrangement somehow still didn't feel special or unique enough.
Alpine gracefully leapt onto the counter, her blue eyes focusing intently on the array of gifts laid out. She lowered her head, her pink nose twitching as she investigated each item curiously. "What do you think, girl...good enough?" Bucky asked softly, his fingers running through the ragdoll's silky fur as he gently stroked from her head down along her back.
After her inspection, Alpine cast one final, contemplative glance at the presents. Then, with typical cat-like indifference, she turned away from them, her fluffy tail held high like a banner as she delicately padded across the counter to the edge, and descended to the floor with one smooth leap.
"Bad, huh?" Bucky released a heavy sigh, his eyes lingering on the carefully chosen gifts as waves of uncertainty began to wash over him, his anxiety gradually creeping in and eating away at him.
He didn't have more time to wrestle with his uncertainties as the sound of keys jingling at the front door caught his attention. You made your entrance quicker than he had anticipated, your exhausted form slowly making its way through the doorway after what was clearly an demanding day at work. You kicked off your shoes in a haphazard manner, letting them land wherever they might. The weariness etched across your features told him everything he needed to know about the challenging nature of your workday.
"Hey," Bucky offered in greeting as he made his way over to you in the entryway, his mind racing as he tried to keep you from noticing the carefully prepared gifts just yet. Perhaps if he could buy himself a little more time, he might figure out something better to give you than the basic gifts.
A soft, tired grumble was all you could muster in response, though the gentle warmth in his eyes worked its magic in lifting your spirits considerably. "Hey..." you murmured an actual response, crossing the space between you to wrap your arms around his sturdy frame. He gladly hugged you back, letting you bury yourself against him.
The thought of spending the entire day at home with him had been your secret wish throughout your shift, but responsibilities couldn't be ignored. He had promised to make the evening special, and that thought alone helped you persevere through the long hours of your workday.
Bucky thought fast, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze with those intense steel-blue eyes. "How about a hot bath? I can get one ready for you, make it nice and warm - it'll be perfect for those sore muscles of yours...plus, I know you’ve been on your feet all day." He offered gently, his flesh hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face. A playful smirk slowly spread across his lips as he added, "I could even feed you some fresh strawberries while you relax..."
"Ugh, that sounds so heavenly right now..." You agreed with a soft, appreciative moan, already imagining the soothing warmth of the water and the sweet taste of cool fruit.
Bucky made his way to the bathroom, wanting to create the perfect relaxing atmosphere for you after your long day. He tested the water temperature with his flesh hand until it reached that ideal warmth you always preferred, then clogged the drain.
While the tub filled, he selected your favorite aromatherapy soap, watching as it created billowing clouds of soft, luxurious bubbles that released that soothing scent you loved so much. He also scattered rose petals across the surface - special ones he had purchased with your other gifts. They would slowly dissolve into the water, but for now they created a nice, romantic display as they rested atop the peaks of foam.
In the bedroom, you gradually shed your work uniform, letting each piece fall away with relief before walking into the bathroom to meet him. He remained unaware of your presence for a moment until he turned, and when he did, he took the chance to admire you. Bucky rose up to his full height and approached you, his hands finding their familiar place on your hips. "You're so beautiful, doll..." he murmured, his voice full of affection as he leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek, before adding, "Bath's all ready..."
"It looks perfect," you replied in an equally soft and tired tone, carefully stepping into the steaming bath water and sinking down with a contented moan.
God, it felt absolutely amazing - after countless exhausting days of non-stop work, your muscles were crying out for relief. Your back and neck were especially sore from hunching over your desk for hours on end. The perfectly heated water enveloped your body like a warm hug, melting away the tension and aches that had built up over time. The chosen aromatherapy oils filled the air with a soothing blend of lavender and eucalyptus that relaxed you even further.
"Thank you, Bucky... this is... exactly what I needed," you mumbled appreciatively, slowly sinking lower into the luxurious bath until the fragrant bubble clouds rose around your shoulders like a soft blanket.
Bucky's lip quirked up with a gentle, knowing smile as he reached for a plump strawberry from the delicate pink crystal bowl beside the tub. His eyes sparkled with affection as he held the fruit up teasingly, "Of course doll... now open wide~"
"Tease," you said playfully, leaning for the strawberry he held between his fingers. You gladly accepted the offering, letting your lips brush against the plump, red fruit before taking a delicate bite. The sweetness burst across your tongue as you savored each moment, watching his expression intently. Unable to resist the temptation, you gently caught his finger between your lips, your tongue darting out to taste the lingering juice - a deliberately cheeky move to provoke a reaction.
Bucky's eyes darkened as he watched you, a knowing smile spreading slowly across his face. His fingers twitched slightly at the sensation of your tongue, and he leaned in closer. "Don't start something you can't finish, doll..." he warned in a low, honeyed voice that made you shiver, even in the steaming water. "You know exactly what'll happen. Besides, it's Valentine's Day..." He reached out to trace your jawline with his thumb, his touch feather-light and promising. "...I'll make it all about you..."
You couldn't resist the temptation that coursed through you, causing you to slowly emerge from the water just enough to delicately capture his hand between your teeth and deliver a playful nip. Your lips ghosted across his wrist and laid a kiss, "I think I wanna see what you mean..."
That's how you ended up on the bed with his face between your legs.
Your swollen, sensitive pussy being devoured by the soldier keeping your legs spread open. His tongue flatly lapped at you before he would encase your delicate clit in his lips and desperately suckle. The alternating movements kept you close enough to the brink of orgasm, but he wouldn't let you finish all the way yet.
"Bucky! Pl-please," you cried out desperately as he suctioned to your throbbing clit once more, his skilled tongue working magic against your sensitive bud. Your trembling hands clung tightly to the twisted sheets below your hips, your knuckles turning white from the intensity of your grip. Your cheeks were deeply flushed as tears of pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over.
It felt so fucking good - Bucky always dove into you like a starved man who hadn't tasted such sweetness in decades, you were a fruit from Eden and he wouldn’t stop until he has had all of you.
Which was kind of true, until you two had started dating and everything changed. Over time, he gradually gained the confidence he needed, becoming more and more comfortable with engaging in intimate acts. The hesitation that had once held him back melted away completely, and once that newfound bravado took over, he became a passionate and attentive lover who knew exactly how to make you come undone.
Bucky growled against you, tugging you even closer as he kept his face against your folds and lapped at you repeatedly. His eyes would peek at your expression from time to time, but he mostly kept them closed, purely focusing on your taste. So sweet and delectable, you were his favorite thing to lap up and devour. He never wanted to stop. This was his favorite thing ever. Being the source of your pleasure and hearing how you whined and squirmed underneath him.
"Come for me, baby...come on. Give it to me." He muffled against you as his tongue continued to move up and down with his repetitive licks, getting your juices and making sure to run over that swollen bud.
Fuck, you were. You were going to.
You moaned loudly as waves of pleasure coursed through your body, the tense burning sensation gradually building deep in your belly while your legs trembled uncontrollably. Bucky kept a firm hold on your legs, keeping himself buried in your pussy as he continued his feast. Heat radiated outward as you began to feel your nerves come alive, electric sensations traveling from your core and flowing down through your limbs to the tips of your fingers and toes. The pressure continued mounting until finally, everything began slowly blossoming and unwinding into an overwhelming, desperate climax.
When he pulled away from your folds, his face and dark scruff were thoroughly soaked with your juices. The smug, satisfied bastard slowly licked his lips and began climbing over your shaking body, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses from your sensitive belly all the way up to the crook of your neck. "Y'r so soft...god, I love every inch of you," he whispered in that husky, desire-laden voice as his lips grazed the shell of your ear.
"Bucky..." You whined needily, the desperate tone in your voice betraying just how affected you were, but you couldn't bring yourself to care - you were absolutely burning with desire for him. The delicious scratching sensation of his rough scruff against your skin felt absolutely divine, and you couldn't help but nuzzle your cheek against his strong jaw, seeking more of that friction. Your responsive action drew a knowing smile from Bucky as he pressed his body more firmly against yours, allowing his head to respond to your pressure and reaching his hand down to carefully position himself against you.
"Easy, my beautiful girl...I promise I'll give you everything you want and need. My perfect doll...just lay still for me, just like that...looking so gorgeous spread out underneath me..." He praised in that gentle, soothing voice that you normally adored, but in your current state of desperate arousal, his sweet words only served to turn you on even more. Something about it drove you insane.
When he finally breached you, your body arched off the bed and your hands immediately grabbed onto him, mindful not to claw at his heavily scarred shoulder.
The moan that escaped from between your parted lips was abruptly silenced as he captured your mouth with his own. The lingering taste of your pleasure danced on his tongue as it skillfully glided past your own, delving deeper to thoroughly explore every corner of your mouth. A deep, resonant hum of satisfaction rumbled in the soldier's chest and vibrated against your lips as he pressed into the kiss with mounting intensity, perfectly matching the quickening rhythm of the increasingly passionate snaps his hips made against you.
The gentle slapping that filled the room was drowned out by your cries of unison - the two of you spewing groans and moans of all kinds as his cockhead repeatedly kissed your cervix and coated it with his precum. The gummy walls of your tight cunt continued to squeeze and massage his cock with each little movement you made squirming beneath him and listening to his lower pitched sounds of pleasure.
"Bucky...ah, feels so good...feel so full," you whined and fell back onto the sheets, ignoring the gentle bulge that appeared beneath your skin each time he hilted himself inside you.
"So perfect for me, doll...made for me, made for my cock," he whispered with reverence, his voice thick and heavy. He leaned down, pressing hard, passionate kisses against your neck, which you willingly allowed. You tilted your head back, exposing more of your sensitive skin to him as he skillfully left a trail of bites and gentle purple bruises blooming across your flesh.
Prettier than any of those damned flowers he saw today.
"R'member when I bit all over you... 'round Christmas? I was so lost and confused back then and..nngh...all I knew was you. All I could think about was you. All I ever wanted was you...completely all to myself..." His voice came out rough and broken between desperate grunts as his hips pistoned at an increasingly frantic pace, his movements becoming more urgent with each thrust.
"Ah, yes...I remember it...you were so needy," You gasped breathlessly, a small knowing chuckle escaping your lips as you eagerly took him harder.
"Now look who's being needy...f-feel you squeezing around me so tight..." Bucky hissed through clenched teeth as he pushed even deeper inside you, his thick cock swelling noticeably with his rapidly approaching orgasm.
"Come for me, Buck Buck...I want it inside. Want you to fill me up," You reached up to him, yearning for more, pulling him down closer until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. His silken hair cascaded down like a brilliant curtain, framing his face while he let out pants from slightly parted lips. The cool metal of his hand gripped firmly at the meat of your thigh, his touch both gentle and possessive, chilling the skin beneath it.
Bucky ducked his face down and pressed closer to you, a deep groan tore through his throat as his rapid thrusts finally stilled - you felt his thick member twitching inside you as he coated your pretty velvet walls in his cum. As his orgasm washed over him and made him thrust a few more times for good measure, the overwhelming sensation brought you to yours again.
You both panted, breathing heavily in unison as you relished in the feeling of him still tucked inside you, thick cum oozing out as you let out soft laughs together.
"That was absolutely incredible..." You breathed out in a contented sigh, your voice thick with emotion, "I love you so much..." Your lips tenderly found his in a series of gentle, loving pecks, while your fingers delicately traced patterns across his cheek, savoring the warmth of his skin.
"I love you too, babydoll. And actually, I have something special waiting for you in the kitchen..." He began, his eyes flickering towards the doorway. With a knowing smile, you gently guided his face back to yours, your fingers lingering on his jaw.
"Would that happen to be that beautiful arrangement of flowers and those decadent chocolates I spotted sat next to an adorable plushie?"
"Wait, what? How did you -"
"I saw the setup when you were preparing my bath earlier...sweetheart, you really shouldn't have gone to all this trouble. I feel terrible now." You propped yourself up slightly on your elbows, guilt evident in your voice. "Work has been so hectic lately, I didn't even manage to find time to get you anything..."
He drew you even closer into his warm embrace and gently rolled both of you onto your sides. As his softened length slipped free, you nearly whimpered at the loss of connection, you held the pout back for now. "Doll, you should know by now that I don't need fancy gifts or presents. What matters most to me is having you here, sharing these moments together.” He winked playfully before returning to a more serious tone, “You coming home to me is the greatest gift I could ask for. And you know what? The night's still young - we could curl up together and watch a movie, if you'd like..."
You smiled and nodded, letting out a soft chuckle. "That sounds wonderful, but I really think we should freshen up first...things got pretty messy and you made me feel all sticky." You whispered with a playful lilt in your voice, carefully lifting yourself from the tangled sheets. As you made your way towards the bathroom, your hips swayed flirtatiously, each step a teasing invitation. Pausing at the doorway, you glanced over your shoulder with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "C'mon baby...if you're good, I’ll do that thing you always like..."
His reaction was instantaneous.
Like a coiled spring suddenly released, Bucky leapt from the bed with the same sharp reflexes from his military days - every muscle alert and ready. His blue eyes darkened with desire as a roguish grin spread across his face. "Yes ma'am," he responded, voice husky with anticipation. In two swift strides, he crossed the room and swept you up into his strong arms, making you squeal and laugh with surprise, cradling you against his chest as he carried you eagerly toward the shower.
When your feet touched the cool tile of the bathroom floor, Bucky was already eagerly anticipating another passionate moment together, but you gently placed your hands against his firm chest, causing him to pause. Your eyes met his as you spoke softly but earnestly, "And just so you know, everything you got me was absolutely perfect. I love it all so much. You really shouldn't have gone to all this trouble - just spending the evening together would have been more than enough for me, but...everything you did get makes me feel so special. The arranged bouquet with all those beautiful flowers, the adorable plushie of my favorite animal, and those delicious chocolates...it's all too much. You are perfect."
Bucky felt an overwhelming wave of relief wash over him at your heartfelt words, the tension he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying suddenly melting away. His voice was tender, slightly hesitant as he responded, "O-oh... yeah, of course. I...I really wanted to make tonight special for you in every way possible. I picked all your favorite colors and included those specific flowers you always stop to admire during our walks together...and I made absolutely certain the chocolates only contained ingredients and flavors I know you enjoy...and found you a soft, cuddle buddy to keep you company when I have to be away." He ducked his head slightly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he added with endearing awkwardness, "Besides Alpine, of course."
"Yeah, whenever she's in one of her affectionate moods and decides it's snuggle time," you added with a gentle, warm chuckle, your eyes crinkling at the corners. He swore his heart beat faster each time he saw those delicate lines. "You are enough, Bucky." You gazed deeply into his eyes, taking in every flicker of emotion that passed through them, before offering him a tender, reassuring smile.
Your hand came up to cup his cheek as you leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, feeling the tension slowly melt away from his body as he relaxed against you. Drawing back just enough to meet his gaze again, you whispered to him with absolute conviction so he could feel the words as much as possible.
"You are always enough, and don't you ever doubt that for a second..."
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Thanks for reading. -em 🌿
Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.
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luv-lock · 2 months ago
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ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤBOUND BY BLOODㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱
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☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Batboys x Fem Reader
☆⁠ HEADCANON : Ranking Them From Worst To Best As A Father.
☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, 90s Tim Drake, Damian Wayne.
☆⁠ NOTE : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
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— 1. DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆
Damian would be the absolute worst father as a yandere. To him, the child is not a beautiful product of your love but an unwanted distraction. Your attention belongs solely to him, and the baby becomes his rival from the moment they’re born. He’d tolerate the child for a while, but if your affection leaned even slightly toward the baby more than him? Damian��s jealousy would fester. He emotionally neglect the child and even harbor disturbing thoughts about getting rid of the "threat" to restore your focus to him. If the child cried too much or interrupted his time with you, Damian’s cold, sharp temper would flare. You’d have to constantly shield your baby from his wrath. "You should be with me," Damian snaps, his voice cutting as he watches you rock your baby to sleep. His eyes narrow. "You’ve been ignoring me all day because of... that."
— 2. JASON TODD ⋆
Jason’s relationship with the child is complicated. On one hand, he sees them as a part of you—someone to protect and cherish. On the other, his deep insecurities could make him jealous of the attention the baby takes away from him. He’s unlikely to harm the child, but his temper could lead to emotionally volatile moments. Jason might unintentionally make the child feel like they’re competing for your love. He would struggle to find balance, often pulling you away to spend time with him instead of parenting. His own trauma colors his ability to be a stable father, even though he genuinely loves both you and the child. "I’m not saying I don’t care about the kid," Jason mutters, running a hand through his hair. His eyes meet yours, frustrated and vulnerable. "I just need you, okay? I need you more."
— 3. 90s TIM DRAKE ⋆
Tim is more detached as a father, not because he doesn’t care but because he overanalyzes everything. He sees the child as a tool to keep you close—an anchor to bind you to him forever. While he wouldn’t intentionally harm or neglect the child, his obsession with you overrides his parental instincts. Tim might use the child to manipulate you subtly, ensuring you don’t leave him. He’s not overtly cruel, but his priorities are clear: you come first. The child’s needs are secondary to keeping you within his grasp. "We’re a family now," Tim says softly, his hand brushing over yours. His eyes gleam with determination. "And families don’t leave each other. Ever."
— 4. BRUCE WAYNE ⋆
Bruce’s obsession with control means he would take his role as a father seriously, even in a yandere context. However, his need to micromanage everything could lead to him treating the child more like a future Wayne heir than a person. While he wouldn’t harm or neglect the child, his emotionally distant nature might make him seem cold and unapproachable as a father. He would still provide everything the child needs materially and intellectually, but emotionally, his obsession with you takes precedence. "He will grow up strong," Bruce assures you, his tone pragmatic. "But only if we guide him together. You’ll stay, won’t you? For them?"
— 5. DICK GRAYSON ⋆
Surprisingly, Dick would be the best father among the Batboys, even in a yandere scenario. His obsession with you doesn’t diminish his natural warmth and love for his child. He genuinely wants a happy family and sees the baby as a beautiful extension of your love. Dick is attentive, nurturing, and emotionally present. He might occasionally feel jealous if the baby takes up too much of your attention, but he wouldn’t let it affect his treatment of the child. His focus would be on creating a harmonious family where everyone feels loved—especially you. "She got your eyes," Dick says with a soft smile, cradling your baby in his arms. He glances at you, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn’t think I could love anyone more than I love you... but I do."
FINAL RANKING : Worst to Best
1. Damian Wayne – Jealous and potentially dangerous.
2. Jason Todd – Overwhelmed by insecurities and prone to jealousy.
3. Tim Drake – Calculated and emotionally distant.
4. Bruce Wayne – Dutiful but prioritizes control over connection.
5. Dick Grayson – The most nurturing and balanced, even as a yandere.
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— MASTERLIST ☆
— © luv-lock. Don't copy, repost or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆
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xjulixred45x · 1 year ago
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I could't contain myself guys sorry--
Bro, do you realize how scary it would be to have Vox as a Yandere?
just imagine it. You could be one of his workers, maybe too good at your job, because not only do you do what Vox tells you without asking questions, but you also know what to say and what not to say to avoid a "tantrum" from him. or rather, when his insecurities attack with force like when Alastor returns.
Vox would probably be a somewhat condescending yandere (as seen with Val) but don't think you can't turn tables easily, if you stroke his ego enough, you can have him around your finger. but that doesn't make it any less dangerous for those around you.
He makes the typical 180 degree turn in attitude when it comes to Other Employees and when it comes to You. Damn, you may be the only one of his employees who gets paid vacations (or even vacations) or even birthday bonuses, things like that. He likes to give you his things or products with the excuse that "they are for testing" even if they have already been released on the market.
Like:
Vox: who the fuck eat My leftovers!?! WHENEVER WHO WAS I'M GOING TO-
Darling: it was me sir.
Vox:--give You the rest and take You out for lunch, You haven't eaten in the whole day AGAIN, didn't ya?
He definitely avoids conflict with you by hypnotizing you, when he starts to feel hostility, fear on your part or that you want to leave, he makes you "out of nowhere" have "ONE MORE TASK" and you can't help but do what he says.
and IT IS NOT just to avoid fights or for you to leave, it is something CONSTANT (once every two days MINIMUM), although Vox is not worried about your brain turning into mush due to its powers, it always keeps nutritious things in your diet and they come out relatively often , as you have to follow him everywhere.
Eventually he becomes more clingy and needy in this case, it's practically not that he's proposing to you or anything, he's just slowly dragging you into a relationship without you realizing it (because you're not lucid enough). Unless you develop a higher level of tolerance to his hypotonic trick, I don't think you'll notice his Red Flags.
I think it would be ESPECIALLY BAD if Darling is also a Sinner, because then they wouldn't even be able to get out of the pride ring to run away from Vox. leaving you with many fewer options and having to avoid all of Vox's technology, which you could only achieve by 1- going to the Cannibal Legion or 2- going to the Hazbin Hotel.
Running away is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT, not only because of his hypnotic trick, but because he literally has EYES EVERYWHERE, on every screen in hell. If you somehow manage to get away with it and run away, Vox would be SO ANGRY and looking for you all over hell with their screens.
Although definitely if you were gone more than a day, he would be more distraught than angry and would begin to despair. Even Val and Velvet would give him a hand because of how bad it would be.
Just imagine, thinking that you finally lost sight of Vox's search drones, without realizing that you stand in front of some store and VOX ITSELF appears on the screens :)
If you made the stupid decision to go to the Hazbin Hotel, Vox would be distraught and would even think that Alastor was somehow holding you hostage, obviously! Why would you go there if you knew his biggest enemy was there? Alastor must be using you as a bargaining chip! How dare he!?
(in this case, fortunately, the punishment is much less severe, but he would definitely monitor you for the rest of your life)
When he eventually gets you back (after a few days or even WEEKS of anguish) expect, first of all, to be in a mortal embrace that lasts AT LEAST 2 days and then receive your "punishment" which would be to be under hypnosis for AT LEAST 1 YEAR to be sure that this NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.
Although calm down! He gives your mind breaks periodically because 1- he doesn't know if that would ultimate mess with your head and 2- it's nice to hear YOU talk instead of the robotic version.
When that year FINALLY ends, you will be a much more obedient, more terrified, sweeter version of You, according to Vox, like a frightened Deer. It was a long and hard process, but the good thing is that you don't have to do anything anymore! absolutely! Just do what he tells you and everything will be fine.
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Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!
Not one of the Best yanderes to have, but Def not the worst
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sincerelybubbles · 6 months ago
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could you write something where the reader is listening to reid going off on his tangents and when he gets insecure, just straight up saying. "no, go on. i like the sound of your voice." ? ty! 🤍
Don't shut up // no warnings as far as i can tell? lmk if not <3 pure fluff!! ty for the request <333
"They usually called her the Limping Lady but there's really no way to tell how many pseudonyms she used," Spencer is saying, dragging his hand through your hair where you lay on his lap, His other hand is busy grasping at the air while he talks.
"Because of the prosthetic leg?" You ask, urging him to continue talking. You're nearly asleep, eyes heavy and chest loose with the comfort of his proximity.
"Yeah. She actually nicknamed it 'Cuthbert' when she got the wooden prosthetic. It's actually pretty interesting - people have been using prosthetics for a really long time. We don't know exactly when people started using them in modern medicine, but the first evidence we can find of them dates all the way back to ancient Egypt where they found a prosthetic toe."
The documentary Spencer put on over an hour ago about World War II has long since been paused, Netflix's blinking "Are you still watching?" hovering uselessly on his laptop screen. He paused it ages ago to discuss the inaccuracies about Hitler's past, then Italy's involvement in France and the parallels between the almost French famine and the Irish famine, leading him to Virginia Hall.
All in all, you're in heaven. He's been stroking your hair, blunt nails scratching every so often, voice rumbling through his chest and stomach where your ear presses against. He's talking calmly, even, if not slightly rushed, like he can't wait for even a breath to keep telling you about everything he knows.
"I just want you to know all of the things I know, too, you know?" He told you once when you urged him to slow down. He's learned to take his time with you, eventually, realizing that you're not waiting for your opportunity to jump in. You don't spend your time with Spencer figuring out when it'll be your turn to talk next; instead, you lull in the comfortable space of listening while knowing he'll return the favor the moment you have something to say.
"Sorry, are you trying to sleep? I can shut up and turn the movie back on," Spencer says suddenly, hand stilling in your hair.
You open your eyes slightly to find him looking down at you, lip caught between his teeth, a hesitant look in his eyes.
Spencer doesn't often get insecure like this around you - you've spent plenty of time convincing him that there's no need - but moments like this still happen. You suppose it's a natural product of constant teasing and bullying through childhood.
"I don't mean to ramble," he mutters when he catches your eye.
"No," you say, interrupting him and reaching up to brush your fingers across his cheekbone and up to his eyebrows. "No, Spence, I literally love the sound of your voice. Please, keep going."
You watch him melt, afraid for a moment that his liquid brown eyes will start to water. You make a concerned noise, about to sit up and comfort him further, when his hand moves to press down on your collarbones. He holds you in place as he looks at you for a second, heated gaze causing you to feel warm. Slowly, he bends to press a kiss on each of your eyelids, right below your eyebrows. He rests his lips on the bones there for a few moments before moving to the next.
"I love you," he murmurs, the truth of the statement oozing out too sincerely to ignore.
He doesn't give you a moment to breathe before diving right back into his explanation of how ancient prosthetics were integrated into modern medicine, hand resuming its path in your hair and voice slowly bringing you to a calm half-nap.
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jellykyunnie · 2 months ago
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˗ˏˋ Entry : 056 - Lover! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Drabbles ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
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╰┈➤ ❝ [ Winter Blues ] ¡! ❞
Curse Winter.
As lovely as the season is— It's stretching on for far too long and now you're in your room bedrotting the hours away since somehow you feel your body extremely heavy as of late.
You know you should be doing productive things instead of procrastinating, but what can you do if your body feels as if it has a ton of weight placed on it?
So screw it and just stay in bed.
That's the best way to deal with this issue, just screw it all and rest peacefully.
꒰ .... ꒱
"Jagiya?" Jinwoo calls out as he enters the pitch black room and turns on a lamp— To which he hears you grunting and whining the moment the soft yellow light flashes around.
A small smile only tugs at the corner of his lips, shaking his head and sets the takeout food he ordered on your desk before approaching the bed.
"Jagiya, you know you shouldn't be in bed all day" He cooes lovingly, rubbing your back to soothe you. "Are you sick?"
"No, winter is just making me so lazy" You complain, shuffling over to his lap and nuzzling his stomach.
"Mn... I guess it's extra cold today, huh?" Jinwoo smiles. "Come here"
He lifts you up to his lap, settling you on his thighs while pulling your head to hide on his neck.
"There, there" He hums lovingly, peppering the side of your head with gentle and lingering kisses. "I can't have you get too lazy, but for now I'll indulge in you."
He had always been spoiling you ever since the both of you started dating. Honestly you don't even know how you managed to pull a hotshot like him. People are always intimidated by him, specifically the men, the girls? —Oh they have a fat crush on him.
Can't blame them, Jinwoo is hauntingly so handsome after all.
With pretty grey eyes like his and a deadly good looking face with a body tall and lanky but muscular— Why wouldn't you fall for him? He's like an idol himself that made you feel very self-concious about the fact someone as mediocre as you is dating such a good looking man.
But somehow you managed to date him because you to met by a friend of a friend, became friends yourselves, and then he courted you somewhere down the line.
If Jinwoo ever finds out about your insecurity— You'll be in for a long scolding session and making you tell yourself you're absolutely prety in front of the mirror.
Yeah, he has a very... Unique way of scolding you.
So now you're here, being babied by Sung Jinwoo. Never spent a day without having him spoiling you one way or another.
May it be cuddles or kisses— You'll always have them and he make sure you do.
"Wanna eat some noodles? I bought some home?" He reaches out to the food he bought home and opened the plastic bowl. "Come on, you can't be lazy in eating too, sarang"
And so, he started feeding you as if you're a child.
It's embarassing to be treated like this but Jinwoo himself seems to be enjoying the fact that you are this reliant on him. He made sure to blow on the noodles before feeding them to you of course, he can't have your pretty little tongue burnt since he intends to kiss you until you're breathless later.
"Heh..."
"What?" You perk up at his little chuckle after gulping down the soup on the bowl.
"Nothing, you just look especially cuter as of late" He wipes the excess soup on your lips with his thumb before bringing it to his lips. "Still feeling a bit fatigued?"
"I feel a little better now" You mumble, nuzzling against him like a clingy kitten.
"Mn..." He hums, kissing your forehead affectionately. "I guess I should baby you more for now, huh?"
"My lovely sarang."
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꒰ 🪼 A/N: A short fluffy fic because I want to heheh~ I'm planning on posting another fluffy fic before a lovesick one because hehhhheeh!!!!~~ Are you guys excited for another lovesick fic :D? ꒱
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ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .。✧: ~ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.
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wikipediette · 4 months ago
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Sorry but can I talk about how realistic Jimmy is as an abuser?? Like the scene at the birthday party where he's yelling at curly.
Jimmy can never accept anything, he can't accept the idea of losing his job, or getting a new one (SAing a woman and getting her pregnant because of it, injuring his only friend, fucking over everyone else in the ship, ect.) so instead of thinking of his future or making plans or LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE he simply lashes out at curly.
He shames him and degrades him like he had any part in the situation and because he's deeply insecure he convinces himself curly is an arrogant man with an Inflated ego (tho i feel there is some truth to that) and up-turned nose at the "working class". When in reality curly is simply a human trying to make his way in the world. Thus absolving himself of any guilt for what he did and adding in more to the "take responsibility" aspect of the game.
And like a real abuser he attacks the people around himself to feel better, because his life is shit. He's surrounded by people who have had hardship and struggles but still try and live their life (anya still trying to be the best coworker she can be on the ship despite living with her abuser, Swansea being a sober man who puts in the work of bettering himself and being a productive member of society, diasuke finally taking up an internship and trying his hand at a trade) and he is so mad about it.
Because he simply cannot accept his life as his own, he wants to view all hardships as unavoidable and out of his hands. Much like the ship, he steers himself into danger and when others around try and help he turns off the auto pilot. It doesn't matter that he's affecting everyone else because he only cares about his own feelings. No one is allowed to try and be better because it makes him feel bad. He feels inadequate so he has to pull everyone down to his level, if he cant be happy then no one can, and that's what truly makes him an awful person, he's rotten from the inside out.
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I truly hate this man so much someone help
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griddleharker · 3 months ago
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Mel's trauma/experiences in season 2 are easily overlooked/forgotten due to how fast paced the season is, to how she handles herself and due to misogyny.
I wish I could say it's easy to forget how difficult what she went through was, but it really is not. The intro itself makes it very clear.
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She survived an explosion, got attacked, was abducted, saw her friend die right before her eyes, thrown into a pit, made to believe a family member she mourned was alive, had to 'kill' the thing wearing the skin of her brother, learned shocking informations about her mother and was lead to two conflicting thoughts about her: 1, she is a child of a love affair, a product of love, her mother loves her too much and it is why she was cast away, 2 she is a weapon, everything down to her conception was calculated, it was never love but a thirst for power.
She breaks free of imprisonment, awakens as a mage due to almost dying and immediately gets a proposition from someone of a higher power/knowledge. She has no more means of defense, and she has to throw her lot with the person who killed her brother and who's chasing after her mother. I am not saying she was never swayed by Leblanc's words nor that she didn't believe her, but it was coercion rather than agreement.
She was gone for MONTHS, just like Jayce. She lived through hell for these few months and came to a terrible conclusion, just like Jayce. She's finally back to Piltover, and she goes to see him first, before anything else. She worries about him, she's happy to see him. She seeks comfort within him, just like he did with her several times through both seasons. He refuses her this comfort, instead attacks her and demands her to answer for a crime that is indirectly hers. She protects him anyway when it was needed.
He apologizes to her and, arguably, breaks up with her then. She goes to see her mother afterward, ready to leave it all behind and betray her new found 'family' as Leblanc said if her mother simply agreed to. If her mother simply chose her this time. But she doesn't. She needs more than Mel. What she needs goes against everything Mel stands for. She walks away.
She then helps to fight her mother, and is the direct cause for her death. Her mother finally sees her in her last moments, she finally has no choice but to look at her daughter, who's no longer a helpless little girl but a strong, powerful and insightful woman. She still forces her into the mold she made for her, a wolf. It's a compliment really. But is it really one for Mel? Her mother dies in her arms. They never could fix their relationship. Her mother committed so many unspeakable deeds, yet she still loves her, yet she still mourns her.
She has to take over her now. She can't openly mourn her, nor show her grief. And she has no one close to her she can be vulnerable with left. She is more alone at the end of season 2 than ever and has to take on more responsibilities than she deems herself worthy of. She said that she's not up to the Medarda's name, and is shown so often to feel insecure because of it. But now she has to be up to it and she doesn't get a choice.
Through reaching the 'Medarda's standards', she lost everything else. And she didn't get a choice.
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parfaitblogs · 8 months ago
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peace ❀ s. reid x reader
in which you self isolate, and spencer knows better than to let it get too bad. 
pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. suicide ideation? ("i want it to end"). depression. lots of stuff that coincides with that. brief mention of reader not eating/having no food. please be aware of your triggers. i think i mention reader as a girl somewhere? word count: 1.9k a/n: i finished this then relistened to peace (taylor swift) which was the og inspo for this, and added a section in the middle so if it feels weird its because i failed at integrating it! this was supposed to be out two days ago. all my relationship insecurities in a fic. lol how embarrassing here's my heart tumblr dot com!! anyways enjoy ily all
also posted here on my ao3 !
Three consistent raps against your front door was the only sound that got you up that day, pyjamas that you had not shed from your body in a week hanging off a frame that could probably be described as lifeless — with the nearly dead-looking face to match.
In fact, the only thing to prove you were still a living human being aside from your movement, was the pink hue around your eyes, on your nose, and above your lips, indicating how much you had cried recently. 
Usually, it isn't this bad. You just need a day or two of rotting in your apartment and doing nothing but scrolling on your phone until it died, staring at the wall, or — on the better days — watching reruns of a 90s sitcom that you don't really watch. 
But it was exceptionally bad this time around, for some odd reason, and not one part of you actually wanted to get up and out of bed for long enough to be productive about your day. Your phone had died again, after charging it two days ago, which meant you were on day six of no communication with anybody. Which might partly be why it was so bad now. 
You had a blanket wrapped around your body, dragging against the floor as you wiped your eyes and let out a small sigh, unlocking your front door and opening it, completely unsurprised by the person standing on the other side. 
He was the only one who ever paid enough attention to your disappearing act when you were like this. 
His eyes softened at the sight of you — which is kind of amusing, considering you thought you looked like death reincarnate currently. 
Neither of you said anything as you stepped aside to allow him in, the door clicking shut behind him as he placed down the leather bag he had slung over his body, turning back to you as he finally allowed the frown to appear — one you knew he would've had the entire way here.
"Have you eaten today?" was the first thing to break the silence — the question coming out so gentle you were sure you'd break down again at some point in the next few seconds. 
You wordlessly shook your head, and he nodded his own, saying nothing else as he walked into your kitchen, knowing you'd trail behind him no matter what. 
He opened your fridge first, before closing it when he was greeted with the alarming sight of nothing. Doing the same with your pantry, at which he turned around to look at you.
"Angel, you have no food," he said. And while it held no malice in the tone of his voice, you could tell he was slightly annoyed at the fact. Your heart ached. 
"I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled, and his eyebrows creased inwards. 
He didn't mention your apology — arguing with you about your vast use of 'sorry's' is futile. "Do you want a pizza?" he asked instead, and even though you, mentally, did not, you knew he wasn't actually asking. So you only nodded your head, and found a place at your countertop, the blanket falling from your body and pooling to the ground in a heap.
He ordered a pizza, and then he was nudging your knees apart, standing between them while you stayed sat on a stool, his chin atop your head, that was buried into his chest. 
And he said nothing, as he held you like that until the pizza arrived. And then he ensured you had at least eaten two slices, the remainders going in your fridge for the next meal you needed to eat. 
He was so kind to you, with his every movement, as he dragged you into the bathroom to help you shower. 
It was heartbreaking, the love you could see in his eyes. The tenderness in every stroke of his fingers against your scalp as he washed your hair, the softness in his touch as he did the same to your body. He gently dried you, told you to stay there, disappeared, and returned with one of his many t-shirts left in your apartment drawers. 
That was when you cracked. When he pulled the shirt over your head, that smelled so painfully Spencer and you. The mix of his clean scent and your own laundry detergent that you were so accustomed to, triggering something in you.
So, you crumpled to the floor of your bathroom, and he followed soon after, his arms wrapped around your body once more, firm enough to keep you still as you sobbed into his chest. 
You weren't sure how long you stayed like that for. Long enough for your head to hurt, and your eyes to sting, and hideous snot bubbles to stain his cardigan. 
When your sobs subsided, he spoke. 
"You wanna talk about it?" he said, quietly, and you shook your head. 
"Don't know what to talk about," you mumbled, and he knew that all too well.
He nodded his own head. "Did something happen?"
"Lots of little things."
"Yeah? You wanna tell me about them?"
You hesitated, because you didn't know where to begin. But then you nodded your head wordlessly, swallowing the lump — and, by extension, the sob — in your throat. "I fell down on the stairs at the train station in front of everybody. And then I missed my stop, and I was late to work. And I had a huge project due, but I didn't finish it, and I forgot I hadn't finished it, and I was anxious about it all day. And I think my friends are just pretending to be my friends, because I keep trying to make plans with one of them, and she keeps blowing me off for her boyfriend. And I'm just really sick of being sad all the time, Spencer. I want it to end."
With the onslaught of your bad vignettes throughout the past month coming back up, you broke down, again. Another sob escaping your lips as you pushed your fists down into the tops of his thighs.
If it hurt, he didn't say anything; simply continued to hold you against his chest, on the floor of your bathroom, that, if it were any other time, he would be having a field day rambling about the germs you both were currently sitting on. 
He also didn't say anything for a while as you sobbed, instead his fingers entangled gently in your hair, and he peppered kisses along the top of your head. 
"I don't want it to end for you," he finally said. His hands slid down from your scalp to your face, holding your cheeks with such tender, pulling you back so he could look at you. 
You sniffled. "I'm so exhausted."
"I know, my love. I know," he sighed, thumbs caressing over your cheekbones. "Ending it won't fix that. You know, logically, however you die is the state you'll be in, in the afterlife. So if you die while you're exhausted..."
"You don't believe in the afterlife," you answer, but his words still cracked through your tearful expression, and your lips twitched with a small smile. 
He returned the small smile, nodding his head. "That's true. But I also don't know anything about post-death. I could be wrong."
"How terrible," you mutter, and he laughed, quietly. 
"I know," he mused, falling silent for a few moments longer, with only both of your quiet breathing to break the silence. 
His fingers ran through your hair once more, and you sniffled audibly, your brain wandering away from the small content you had felt in that exchange, and back to one of the many reasons why you had isolated in the first place. 
"Why are you still with me?" you said, slicing through the silence all at once. 
You watched the smile fall, and his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips part as he went — and hesitated — to say something. "What do you mean?"
"I'm difficult." Your voice is impossibly small, and it breaks a crack in his heart as his eyes soften. 
"No. You're not," he reassured. 
"Yes I am," you breathed out — and then the tears came back. "I get sad and then I stop responding and stop seeing you, and you don't get any warning even though I know you should, and I feel so awful every time but then that makes me feel worse. And I'm sad all the fucking time, Spencer. I mean, I get upset when you aren't at home and you have to deal with all those messages and calls even though you hate texting, but then you get home and I'm isolating myself because I'm sad, on top of all the other things that make me sad, and you deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you their all and—and—"
"Hey," he cut you off, as did the sob that was ripped from your throat. "No. That's not what we're going to do. Do not sit there and tell me what I do and don't deserve." 
"But you do deserve better."
"No," he sighed, resting his forehead on your own, warm breath fanning across your face that usually made you scrunch your face up and pull away, now comforting you. "Do you love me?"
"What? Yes, of course I do. Why would you even—"
"—That is the only requirement I have for you," he said, oh so simply. When you didn't reply, he pressed, "Okay?"
"Okay," you murmured, and he relaxes a little.
More silence fell between you, your tears subsiding and your shaking body relaxing a little more. 
Then, "Did you hurt yourself when you fell down?"
You nodded your head, reluctantly pulling back from him so you could show him. You pointed to a yellowing bruise just below your knee, and the grazes on the bottom halves of your palms. 
"Oh, wow. Look at these," Spencer said, running a thumb gently over the grazes on your hands. "You're braver than me. These would've taken me out."
You laughed, and you saw his face light up at the progress he was making with you, and your mood. 
He then pulled you back into his chest. More silence, but less anxiety, and you sat comfortably in his arms for a few moments longer. 
"Did I worry you?" you say. "Not responding?"
You were so close to him you could hear his breath hitch, and you prepared yourself for a lie about how he wasn't worried at all. Except; "Honestly? Yes."
"Oh."
He exhaled, shakily, and you were kind of glad he couldn't see your sadder expression, half-buried into his chest. 
"You've never gone that long without checking in," he then explained. "The first two days I got what was going on. By the fourth I figured you still needed space. Today I just had a gut feeling."
"Just a gut feeling?" you echoed, and you felt his head nod against your own. 
"Thought you might need someone."
You sighed. "I hate that you're a genius."
"No you don't."
"No, I don't."
His fingers entangled in your hair again. "I also didn't figure you needed me here because I'm a genius."
"No? Then how?" you asked.
"It's simple," he murmured, tugging your head back oh so gently so he could look at you again — puffy eyed, and tear-stained cheeks and all. "I just know."
"That's the most illogical sentence I've ever heard leave your mouth."
He laughed, and you smiled again.
"Come on," he then said, untangling your limbs and pulling the both of you up to your feet, hands ghosting your waist to hold you steady. "I am willing to sit through whatever awful movie you want me to watch."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡
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cultven · 6 months ago
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Butch Wolverine Headcannons
(General Headcannons and X Female! Reader)
This is sooooo indulgent, my mind is just taken over by her… Here are some head cannons I daydreamed up with my pussy 
Warnings: Some very very mild sexual implications
Female! Logan doesn’t shave. Like ever. Due to her animalistic properties, the hair just grows back in a matter of hours, so it’s not worth the upkeep. She occasionally tries her best for special events, but it’s always rendered useless. Plus, she knows you don’t mind anyway, it’s just so much work. 
Bras are her worst enemy. Occasionally she’ll fight in a sports bra, but you will never catch her in one of those frilly Victoria's Secret bras. Unless you ask, of course. Then she’ll gladly drop a small fortune on a cute little bra and underwear set just for you. 
Every month the day before her period her cramps hit her like a truck. Despite her advanced regenerative properties, her uterus seems to be the exception. Seeing her outside her room during this time is an accomplishment as she is practically bedridden. The only way she truly survives these times is due to your care and support. You provide all her favorite foods and offer her numerous heating pads and other soothing ointments. Female! Logan will never admit it, but she absolutely adores being babied by you. 
She is usually the big spoon, scooping you up in her muscular arms. She presses you firmly to her chest and sometimes, if you're lucky, lets you turn around and practically smother yourself in her tits while cuddling. It’s like a small dosage of heaven. Wolverine would pepper small kisses in your hair, smelling your sweet shampoo. 
Other times when she’s feeling particularly soft, she’ll allow you to embrace her from behind, acting as the big spoon. 
Her arm is always around you, no question whatsoever. She’s far from insecure in your relationship, knowing how loyal you are to each other, but she just loves flaunting you to others. This pretty little thing on her hip? Yeah, that’s her girlfriend. Jealous? You should be. At least that’s Female! Logan’s mentality. 
When it’s your turn to cling onto Female! Logan, it’s always onto her arms. You love feeling the hard and soft muscles flex under your fingertips. It always gets you going.
Female! Logan is not a fan of Scott Summers. Not in the slightest. The first time you came around Xavier’s to meet the other mutants he was instantly intrigued by you. Some light conversation led to flirting on his part. Usually, he’s smart enough not to mess with Female! Logan, but he hadn’t assumed the two of you were dating until he got a swift punch right along his jawline. From then on Female! Logan has assured you were never left alone in a room with Summers for longer than thirty seconds. 
Instead of adopting regular Logan’s alcoholism, Female! Logan tends to stay more on the side of smoking. Hand her a fresh pack of Marlboro Reds and she’ll reward you that night. ;)
Admittedly, she doesn’t smell great. It could be worse, but hygiene is not one of her top concerns. Every year as one of the smaller gifts you give her is a bottle of Bath & Body Works body washes, and every year you end up just using it yourself. She believes taking brisk showers is most effective, she doesn’t have time to slather herself in expensive products. You always wonder how her hair stays so fluffy. You suppose it’s just natural.
Speaking of her hair, you are OBSESSED. She has a short layered wolf cut with the classic ear tufts, which you’re pretty sure are natural since you never see her style them. If you’re ever having a rough night just pet and play with your girlfriend’s hair for a few minutes and you’re out like a baby. Sometimes you think she has you under a magical spell. 
Backtracking to showering, you end up showering together a lot. Female! Logan always happens to need to shower at the same time you do, but you know it’s her way of asking if she could join. Of course, the answer is always yes. Her mentality of quick showers immediately goes out the window when she watches you strip down and stand under the running water. The shower wasn’t the only thing wet at that moment.
After your extracurricular activities in the shower, the aftercare is always sweet and loving. Hot water falls over both your bodies as you rub each other's skin with soap lovingly. You scrub the shampoo into her scalp, she exfoliates your legs. Once you’re both done you immediately get into your pajamas and cuddle under a nice blanket, watching something until you’re both soundly asleep. 
Everyone at the mansion thinks you guys are so cute. They constantly tease Female! Logan for being able to snag such a positive, sunshiny girlfriend. She typically shrugs them off with a mean glare and a snarky comment back, but deep down she knows she’s truly lucky to have found someone as accepting and loving as you. Sometimes she doesn’t feel she’s worth the hassle, but you always find a way to reassure her. 
It takes a few years for Female! Logan to propose, mostly because of her insecurities as a mutant, but when she does you are instantly in shambles, bawling out your acceptance. 
Female! Logan never thought she would get married, especially not to a regular human. She never thought humans could ever fully understand and accept a mutant the way that you do. Additionally, she fears her lifestyle will get you hurt, something that haunts her nightmares. But after seeing your beautiful bright smile after she popped the question there was no doubt in her mind she needed you as her wife. 
A big wedding was never what either of you wanted. If she was being honest, Female! Logan would have been happy with just eloping, but you wanted to do something small and she could never say no to you. 
On a warm day in spring, the two of you finally wed, the other residents of the mansion applauding the two of you. It was a small crowd, only a few select friends, but it couldn’t have felt more perfect for the two of you. 
a/n: I could easily write more. Someone please request a oneshot with her (and also name ideas, I don’t want to keep referring to her as Female! Logan. I’m not sure if there is already an agreed-upon name for her.)
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ghostlyferrettarot · 4 months ago
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🦋Pick a Picture: 💎🦚You hidden talents🦚💎
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•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3
❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️
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🦚Masterlist🦚
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🦩Pile 1: 3 of Wands, 3 of Cups and 8 of Wands.
You have a unique ability to connect with people. Although you may not recognize it at times, there is something about your energy that draws others to you. Your presence radiates a mix of maturity and softness that makes people feel at ease around you. It is as if your company alone can calm those around you, creating an environment where they feel safe to open up and share. That ability to calm others is a gift that not everyone possesses, and it is something that you should value. Many around you perceive that you have a voice that resonates strongly and can influence the lives of others. If you have ever thought about using your voice more actively, whether in the professional or personal sphere, do not hesitate to follow that impulse. Your path seems to be aligned with the idea of ​​communicating and expressing yourself, and that can take you to surprising places.
There is a special quality about you that makes you stand out when it comes to helping others. Not only are you a good listener, but you also know how to provide advice and comfort when it is most needed.
🦩Song:
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🐞Pile 2: The Empress, 5 of Pentacles and 4 of Swords.
You have a unique ability to create, I feel that you can be a master manifestor. Any project that crosses your mind, any idea or work that you wish to carry out, has the potential to generate a significant impact on your life and the lives of those around you. Your ability to innovate and think differently is something that many fail to understand, but that does not matter. The essential thing is that your ideas are original and can lead you to achieve notable recognition, so do not hesitate to share them with the world. Your ideas have the power to endure over time, and I am convinced that you will be able to build a legacy of your own. The way you see things is unique, and although some may not capture the essence of your thoughts, that should not discourage you. On the contrary, it is precisely this uniqueness that sets you apart and gives you the opportunity to leave a mark on the world. Every idea that comes from you can be the start of something great, so keep going and don't hold back.
Don't limit yourself by the opinions of others; instead, focus on what you are truly passionate about and how you can bring your visions to reality.
🐞Song:
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🦋Pile 3: 10 of Cups, The Sun and 2 of Wands.
You have a special gift for brightening the day of those around you; it seems like the day of others doesn't start until you appear. It may seem a bit extra, but that is the impression you leave. Your energy is contagious and you are one of those people who always looks for the positive side of things. This attitude of yours is what makes you so loved and appreciated by everyone. Many people admire your charisma and the confidence you radiate, even if sometimes you doubt it yourself. It's funny how, despite your insecurities, there are those who see you as a role model. The truth is that you have a natural charm that attracts others, and it's essential that you start recognizing it in yourself. Don't let your achievements or productivity define your worth; what really counts is the unique essence you bring to the world.
At the end of the day, what really matters is how special you are in the lives of others. In their eyes, you are a true winner, and that is not measured by material success or goals achieved. So, start believing in yourself and the positive impact you have on those around you.
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💎Thank you for reading and tell me if it resonated💎
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purplecoffee13 · 3 months ago
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Nerdrry - office crush part two*
Part 1 here!
Wc: 2.2k
Warnings: light smut, f!ngering, teeny tiny bit of dirty talk
A/N: Hello everyone, here is a part two of the nerdrry blurb I wrote a while back. I kept imagining those two on a first date, and I decided to write it down. Also THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD so sorry if there are mistakes😙
Enjoy!
General Masterlist
Harry could've thrown up from the anxiety that was rushing through his body as he stood in the elevator, waiting to be brought up to the fifth floor, to Y/N's apartment.
To their date.
Was it a date? He wasn't sure, still. From the way Y/N had asked him, and the faint blush on her cheek every time he would allude to the Friday night, he thought he could positively confirm that it was, in fact, a date. Harry let out a tired sigh, slightly shaking his head to clear his thoughts.
No, never mind if this was a date or not, he was going to make it one anyway. He promised himself to make a move tonight, to go for what he wanted instead of nervously standing by and hoping to be chosen. He liked Y/N so much, and if there was even the slightest chance that she liked him back... well, he wouldn't be able to live with his moronic self if he'd never try and find that out.
The hallway was silent as he walked up to apartment 5C, the only sound coming from his sneakers patting against the ground with each step he took, and his bag that crinkled. He'd brought a lot of snacks, maybe too many, but he simply couldn't choose.
Standing in front of her door, Harry allowed himself to breathe in and out once more before knocking on the door. He heard some distant shuffling and the sound of a rattling lock, but in no time the door opened and a smiling Y/N stood in front of him.
The smell of vanilla hit his nostrils in the short time it took him to raise his brows at the sight of her and conjure a smile of his own. The warmth radiating from the apartment was comforting, and it reflected Y/N perfectly. She, too, radiated this kind of ease.
"Come in!" She said cheerily as she stepped aside, allowing Harry to enter her home. He looked around, eyes wide in wonder at how fitting this apartment was for her; he felt like he was looking into her mind.
Posters, art and photographs decorated the white walls; a clear alternative for painting them, something he imagined her landlord wouldn't let her do. She had a colorful rug and a green couch that he'd always found cool but was too insecure to buy. Harry would always consider everything thrice before making a decision, and sometimes he wished he was a little more careless. To just buy something because he thought it was pretty, not because it was necessarily convenient. Have a little more fun from time to time. He could learn from Y/N.
"You have a great apartment." Harry noted, not being able to articulate his thoughts more elaborately. Y/N peeped a soft thanks, slowly peeling the bag with snacks from his hands and putting it on top of the kitchen counter. Harry followed her steps, biting his lip to refrain from grinning like an idiot at her curious face scanning all the products he'd brought along.
"Oh, I love chocolate chip cookies! I forgot to buy them, and I was so sad because the shop had already closed." She beamed, holding the box up like it was some sort of prized possession. Harry stood there, his stomach fluttering so intensely that he felt he might get dizzy, but nothing about that feeling was scary, not like it was before. These feelings could make him floaty all they wanted, she made him feel grounded anyway.
After investigating every snack that was in the bag, Y/N carried—or tried to—everything to the coffee table, where a mountain of snacks already resided. Harry quirked up his brow.
"I thought we said I would take care of the snacks." He said, sitting down and looking at Y/N for clarity. She swallowed.
"Well— yeah, but I just... I was at the store anyway, so."
Harry was stunned. Was she nervous, around him? He could've laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Here he was, stressing about this girl and whether she would ever give him the light of day, and now she was tripping over her words like he was the one who needed to be impressed, and not the other way around.
He hummed at the girl's wobbly answer, and mainly let Y/N talk as she plopped next to him and put on the documentary.
Harry didn't know why he thought it would be awkward to watch a documentary together. Sure, it might be if he went on a date with a boring person, but not with Y/N. She was constantly throwing in facts, referring to the 1997 Titanic movie, or noting how delicious the snacks were. There were plenty of silences, but they weren't dull.
About twenty—almost thirty minutes in—is when it all changed, for Harry at least. Y/N had been shuffling in her seat for the past five minutes, but he'd kept surprisingly still. Harry had no idea how to handle this whole 'making a move while watching a movie' thing that quite literally every guy on the planet seemed to have down.
She finally changed positions, leaning against the armrest of the couch and stretching her legs, right over Harry's lap. He stiffened slightly in those first two seconds, shocked at the fact that she threw her legs on him so casually. His eyes flicked back and forth between her face and her legs, but she didn't acknowledge her action and kept on watching the movie instead. Harry decided to do the same.
And so, casually, he began tracing mindless figures on her upper thigh. He swore that there was electricity in his fingertips as they grazed over the material of her leggings, and he tried his hardest to keep his eyes on the TV screen in front of him.
When the end of the documentary rolled around, Harry finally allowed himself to look at Y/N, whose eyes were already on him. He didn't stop the movements of his fingers, hoping to see a trace of its effect on her face. The corner of his mouth lifted when he saw it. She was flushed.
"I'm going to the bathroom." She announced, very suddenly, and pulled her legs away before hurrying off into her hallway. Harry's heart was racing, he needed to do something. He drank a few gulps of his water and set the glass down as he gave himself a mental pep talk.
When Y/N returned and tried to walk past Harry to sit down again, he grabbed her wrist before she had the chance to go anywhere. His head turned slowly, looking up at her confused face.
"I like you." Harry blurted out, feeling a sense of relief as he said it out loud. Such relief was short lived, though, when he noticed the crease between Y/N'a eyebrows deepen.
"I'm sorry, I'm not... very good at this whole small talk, subtle hints kind of thing. I just— I like you, and I'm really hoping that this was a date. And if it's not, I hope you'll let me take you on one." He confessed, grateful to get it off his chest. The frown on her face slowly faded, and a dimple appeared as Y/N began to smile. The floaty feeling was back, sure to knock him off his feet if he were to stand up.
"You're such a dork, of course this is a date." She teased, letting Harry intertwine his fingers with hers. "And I like you too."
Harry raised his brows, and slowly got up to stand, towering over Y/N by a landslide. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, the height difference throwing her off guard.
"Yeah? You do?" He asked, needing to make sure he hadn't dreamed the answer that had left her mouth. Harry's voice was raspier, heavier than just a few seconds ago. His need for her was weighing down on him; he couldn't hold it in anymore.
When Y/N nodded, he swore he could've exploded right then and there. Nothing was holding him back anymore, no insecurities or uncertainties. There was only the soul crushing urge to touch her and to never stop.
It entirely possessed him as he leaned forward, grabbing her face and planting his lips on hers. Carefully, but with a sense of haste that could only come from the carefully restrained crush he'd had on her. He never thought he'd be able to do this, to have her lips on his like this, to slide his tongue in and taste every corner of her mouth as her arms wrapped around his neck, getting as close to him as she could. He felt her relief in the way she moved.
Y/N broke away from the kiss, her eyes still on Harry's lips before she slowly dragged her eyes up to meet his. The moment they did, Harry knew he was a goner. Something inside of him unleashed, washing away any doubt whatsoever the moment her lips touched his. Enough for him not to think twice about leaning in and planting his mouth on hers again. Grabbing her jaw with one hand, he pulled her closer to him, her body immediately following.
Harry could feel his jeans start to strain as he slipped in his tongue and she allowed him to do so. Burying him back into the couch, Y/N climbed on top of him, her hips mindlessly starting to move against him. It was slow, torturous, and needy.
His hands had slowly traveled to her hips, guiding them along as she ground against him. Harry groaned. He needed her as close as possible; this crush of him was possessing him entirely. It was hard not to fall apart at the way she whined when he took his lips off of hers, but Harry pulled away nonetheless.
He grabbed her hips and directed her until she was sitting on his right thigh. Looking up at her in silence, he slowly guided his own hand towards the black sweatpants she was wearing. She gasped when his fingers tugged at her underwear, glancing down in anticipation. Harry only kept his eyes on Y/N, drinking in her every reaction to his touch. He could drown in it for all her cared.
“Is that okay?” He asked, voice horse from the thick tension that hung between them. Nodding vigorously, Y/N brows creased in an inpatient frown.
“Yes, please—” She breathed out. Harry let out an absentminded hum, indicating for her to specify. She met his unwavering stare, a deep sense of frustration in her eyes, probably at the casualness with which he addressed her plea. Harry’s cock twitched.
“Touch me, please.”
Not wasting any more time, Harry immediately obeyed Y/N’s wishes and stuck his fingers between her panties. A moan fell from her lips the second his cold finger touched her heat, her relief shown in the way her shoulders slumped slightly.
Slowly, he began circling her clit, just to get her started. But he couldn’t ignore the slickness that coated his hands, and he felt his ego grow at the realization that she had been tremendously wet already.
“Shit, you’ve soaked my fingers already. That’ll make it easy to…” He said, sliding his fingers into her before he could even both to finish his sentence. She was so wet they slipped inside with ease. His erection grew even more painful when she mewled in pleasure and began to grind herself on his fingers, and his thigh. Y/N was a sight for sore eyes with the way her body moved. Jaw slack as she stimulated her most sensitive parts with Harry’s hand.
From the way her breaths were getting shorter, he could tell she was getting close to her climax already. Her brows curled upwards, and she spoke like it cost her all her energy.
“Please don’t stop.” She let out an exhausted, exhilarated whine. She was slowing down, despite how near her climax was. Harry looked down, seeing her trembling thighs. Her legs had gone a bit tired, he figured. Poor thing, she wanted it so bad.
Taking pity, Harry revved up the movements of his hand, fingering her at a much faster pace than Y/N had been able to create. She leaped forward in shock, the sudden intensity bringing her closer with each high pitched shriek that escaped her.
“There you go, that’s it.” He encouraged her, running out of breath himself. Harry felt like his ears were ringing when she pulsated around his fingers, her climax nearly made him come. But he managed to keep it together as she convulsed around him. Her head buried in his shoulders made for a muffled string of moans, and his heart fluttered at the mention of his name a couple of times. All while her pussy coated his hand with the aftermath of her orgasm.
They stayed like that, for a little while at least. Harry stroked Y/N’s hair while she came down from the high, hands clung to his shoulders as she tried to steady her heartbeat. There was no indication that Y/N’s head was going to be lifted from his shoulders anytime soon, and as he waited, he found that he didn’t care for it at all. With her in his arms like this he could stay on that couch forever…
General taglist: @mema10
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