#anyway i thought this blurb was fun

[sssatorus]

Satoru Gojo had never dated a fellow sorcerer. In fact, it was almost like an unwritten rule of his not to. It would be too complicated, too annoying. Too much work. On the occasion he did go out with a girl, it was always someone random, someone normal that he’d run into whilst out and about in the city with Suguru. It didn’t happen often. Suguru always says it’s because he’s too obnoxious and girls like a guy who acts like a gentleman rather than a ‘petulant man-child’ (Suguru’s words). This usually earns Suguru a forehead flick.

One time, when a girl had stomped away after one of Satoru’s stupid comments, Suguru had smirked, a lovely blonde-haired girl holding onto his arm, absentmindedly playing on her phone. He leaned over to Satoru’s ear and tauntingly whispered, “I can give you a few pointers if you need it.” This earned Suguru another forehead flick.

Satoru had briefly considered it, though he’d never admit it. Asking for pointers, that is. Suguru seemed to be having a much better time with girls than he usually was, which didn’t make sense because Satoru was basically a god (that had to count for something, right?) but whatever.

So yeah, Gojo didn’t date other sorcerers, but as he watched you walk down the stairs, the way hair bounce with every step, your uniform skirt swayed against your thighs - he changed his mind right then and there.

[dipperscavern]

thinkin’ about (fem implied) targaryen!reader introducing cregan to their dragon (silverwing) for the first time

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

though you and cregan had been married for a few moons now, he had always preferred to leave the dragon-taming to you. dragons were formidable beasts, able to wipe out populations with a single breath of fire. truthfully, he had always been weary of them. he preferred for them to stay down south, because capable of a warrior & protector cregan is, there was nothing he could do to tame the temperaments of fire made flesh.

he had no qualms about silverwing specifically — a seemingly calm and gentle beast, who had done cregan the favor of sticking to her cave, unless to hunt or stretch her wings between your visits. while not fully capable of understanding, he thought of the targaryens ancestral connection to their dragons something akin to the starks and their direwolves.

he would watch with bated breaths as you and her took to the skies, becoming one in the art of wings, not words. he would exhale with relief each time you landed unscathed, and waited for you to depart from your dragon before approaching. and thus, you had fallen into routine. cregan stuck to his castle, silverwing stuck to her cave, and that was that.

until you started showing interest in introducing one to the other. the increased mention of your dragon in various conversations, occasionally flying over winterfell itself, when you had not dared such an endeavor before. cregan caught onto your idea long before you actually brought it up, and had been mentally preparing for the conversation he had no doubt would ensue. one fateful night, on the walk to your shared chambers after supper, ensue it did.

“Husband..” you began. “Wife,” was the response you got.

“I’ve been thinking,” you say, gaze flickering to cregans face in uncertainty. he hums, waiting for you to continue. “and it would greatly please me to have your company on the morrow. Whilst I see Silverwing.”

cregan keeps his gaze trained ahead, and you can almost see the gears in his head moving. he speaks, tone not with malice — only interrogative. “You would have me face the she-dragon?”

“Not face, my love. Only… greet.” you see the upward tug of cregans lips that tell you he doesn’t think that much of a difference.

you exhale through your nose, a twinge of annoyance seeping through you. though you can’t blame his hesitance (most men cower at the sight of dragons), you can’t help but feel like as he denies silverwing, he denies you. doesn’t he know you are one and the same?

“I only meant,” cregan says, “that dragons are… formidable creatures.” he’s careful with his words, he knows you view silverwing as an extension of yourself. “To displease a dragon is an err only men now with the gods have made.”

“Silverwing is most temperamental, and you would be safe in my company.” you assure, and you truly mean it. on dragonstone, silverwing is regarded as the gentlest of them all. “I only wish as I embrace Northern culture that you familiarize with mine own.”

cregan hums, knowing you have the right of this situation. marriage is about compromise, and you’ve been steadfast in your assimilation of his culture. you were married in the sight of his gods, you moved to his home, left your family… cregan is aware of the sacrifices you’ve made, indeed. he will meet you in the middle.

“On the morrow, then.”

out of his peripheral, he can see the instant smile that spreads on your face. it tugs on his (thought to be cold) heartstrings, and once you stop at the heavy wooden door, you stand on your tip-toes — pressing a kiss to his cheek. he bends to aid you.

it’s safe to say when morn comes, your mood is most chipper.

you and cregan had decided to do your dragon-embracing in the early morning, hours away from meetings or duties, time carved out where you can simply be. be with one another, silverwing, and if cregan is lucky, the gods. you can almost hear the silent prayers echoing from his mind as you make your way up the hill and to your dragons home.

you register the uncertainty in his gaze, and how his eyes flicker around the stone walls of the cavern entrance. you know you ask much, for him to saunter into the dragons den, but you’re grateful for his effort. excitement bubbles in your stomach at the prospect of seeing your dragon, and introducing her to the one you love.

you’ve not gone far in when you decide to halt (for cregans sake), you’re far enough in to be blocked by the wind, but close enough to the exit to soothe cregans nerves. cregans more than happy to allow you to take the lead, paying attention to your every move. you send him a smile, he attempts to return it.

you dislodge from cregans side, stepping forward as to be the first one silverwing sees. you have brought in tow a stranger, after all.

“Naejot Māzīs, Gēltīkun.” come forth, silverwing.

seconds pass, before you hear a low rumbling, accompanied by the sound of rocks moving — and the sound of something moving. something big.

cregan looks around, waiting to see her emerge, but he underestimates the dragons’ ability to cling to the shadows. had it already seen him, before he even knew it was there?

before he can finish his thoughts of curiosity about the stealth of dragons, the head of one slowly reveals itself, moving into the light, and cregan swallows. her gaze flickers to him only briefly, registering him in the least possible amount, before returning to & staying on you. you reach a hand up and out to her, and she lowers her head to you. cregan sees the brief close of her eyes, one touch from you being all it takes. targaryens, he thinks. targaryens indeed.

you step to silverwing, moving to run your hand from her nose up the expanse of her cheek, and cregan sees her lower her head almost fully to the ground. a part of him almost finds it cute. her lips split as a low rumble escapes her mouth, unlike the noises cregan hears her emit when you both are in the skies. even though cregan knows as much about dragons as you do about the witches of asshai, he would venture as far to say it didn’t sound like a displeased growl. more of an unsure-curiosity-filled-question-mark. still, you don’t take any chances.

“Lykirī.” you mutter, be calm. “Ziry iksos daor se qrinuntys, mērī issa valzȳrys.” he is not the enemy, only my husband.

steam blows from her nostrils in an almost sigh, lighter-toned noises echoing from her throat when you finish speaking. she makes you smile, hands still pressed against the hot, scaled skin of the dragon you share a soul with.

cregan knows not what you said in your ancient tongue, but it seems more than efficient in guiding silverwing toward the acceptance of cregans presence. she is cool-tempered, as you said. he remembers what feels like so long ago that he encountered your brother jacaerys’s dragon, vermax. an ill-tempered beast, he was — cregan would say. though he can’t blame it all on vermax entirely, dragons don’t like the cold.

once you’ve roamed your hands across silverwings neck, drinking her in, you beckon him over. “Come, Cregan.”

you could have went to him and came back to silverwing, but truthfully, you challenge him in a silent test of bravery. will he trust you, as you’ve trusted him?

cregans gaze moves from you, to your dragon — where it stays. he’s cautious, but you can’t fault him for that, and he eventually begins to step forward.

silverwing keeps her gaze trained on cregan, keeping herself unusually still as he approaches. you can’t claim to know the heart of a dragon, but your intuition tells you it’s her gentle nature — she doesn’t want to scare him. you amuse yourself with the thought of meleys or vermax in silverwings current place. meleys’ intimidating horns moving as she tilts her head to the side, challenging anyone to step forward (that isn’t rhaenys), or the light snap of vermax’s jaws as he enjoys toying with the man, watching them jump back from the prospect of his teeth.

when he’s a breath away from her, you decide to take pity, and move from silverwings side. now it is you and cregan, looking into her eyes in a silent understanding.

you slide your hand over his own, and move it up to touch her snout. she could pull away, or leave you a widow, but she doesn’t. she even moves a hair forward, nudging herself into cregans hand. the surprise in his face is palpable.

“She’s warm.” he says.

you nod. “In more ways than one, yes.”

you stand there for minutes, cregan lightly stroking silverwing, and her enjoying the attention. only when cregan himself removes his hand do you pull away.

“As much as I have… thoroughly enjoyed this,” he says, looking at silverwing as if she can speak english. “I think I’ve exercised bravery more than enough, this morn. Winterfell awaits.”

you sigh at the prospect of leaving your dragon and facing your duties. “That it does.”

cregan looks at you, secretly admiring your features. it is one thing to cautiously approach a dragon, and make it out alive. it’s another to slide on its back, and a different thing entirely to speak its language. he can’t deny the certain aura he feels, gazing at your silvery-hair, knowing you share the feature with all of your ancestors.

“Will you join me, or should I expect to return alone, cold and wifeless?” he asks, a smirk breaking its way through his usually-hardened exterior in light of his sarcasm. it makes you smile, so it was well worth it.

“Freezing and lonely, for now.” you say, brushing your cloak aside to show him a glint of your riding attire. the sight of it only etched love in cregans pupils as he reaches out for you, and connects his lips to yours. the kiss is briefer than you both would have liked, but duty unfortunately calls. once you break apart, he looks at silverwing, and with a quick nod of his head, turns to exit the den he’s grown to appreciate.

cregans approaching winterfells gates when he hears the whoosh of wings, and looks up just in time to see a familiar pair fly over him & winterfells walls. the men around him duck, your laugh and silverwings screech intertwining into a euphony fit only for the gods to hear — and as cregan watches you dance with the clouds, he remembers the feeling of dragon-scaled warmth under his palm.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

[mingwrites]

i have an idea of something fun we could do while i work on requests! send me a member (or members) + a one-word prompt and ill write a smut blurb about it :D

example: jongho + apple

jongho always called you his apple, and he told others it was because you were sweet like an apple, but you knew there was a different meaning to his nickname. the truth was that he wanted to eat you like an apple, to bite greedily into your supple and sweaty flesh and cover his mouth in your sweet juices until they dripped down his chin. he wanted to split you like an apple, forcing your thighs apart until they were buried in the mattress beneath you, leaving your center wide open for his feasting (or fucking). in all the dirtiest ways, you were jongho's sweet apple.

[holographic-mars]

crawls into your inbox,, mars,,, mars i need ravage and soundwave affection headcanons. mars i need fluff. hands held open, only u can save me,, 🤲

CRACKS MY KNUCKLES DID SOMEONE SAY SOUNDWAVE AND RAV AFFECTION HCS

Starting off well known and easy—Soundwave, though seemingly adverse to being touched, much enjoys physical contact from the mechs he cares about. Touch is reassuring and comforting, it also provides a means of grounding himself when his senses overwhelm him. When Ravage is around, they are attached at the hip. Ravage is pressed against his leg, curled up on his lap, or draped over his shoulders (being able to not only hear, but feel Ravage’s spark pulse is comforting to Soundwave, and Ravage knowing that Soundwave is safe with her again. It’s mutual reassurance).

Ravage butts her head against Soundwave when showing affection. She nuzzles into his palm or under his chin, and Soundwave will nuzzle back. He bumps his head against his other cassettes and loved ones as a way of affection because Ravage does it to him (on that same note, Ravage will roughly butt her nose against Soundwave to get his attention or to reprimand him if he’s done something she does not approve of).

Grooming is a very high form of affection between Soundwave and all his cassettes. Whether it just to pick flecks of dirt out between Ravage’s plating or use sharp claws to dig into hard to get places on Soundwave’s frame, keeping one another well maintained is love. They will take family baths together where they all soak in a hot oil bath with an obscene amount of bubbles. They’ll lie in the oil for hours and hours enjoying the comfort and company. And pile bubbles on top of whichever cassette is closest. (when Soundwave was much younger and much less adept at keeping himself clean, Ravage would grab Soundwave and clean his face as if she was grooming a kitten. She still does it sometimes, much to Soundwave protest).

Soundwave, much like Ravage, rarely takes full rest cycles and instead just takes short naps whenever he can. Because of this, they take naps together all the time. Soundwave is Ravage’s personal space heater, and she will sprawl overtop of him to take a nap. If Ravage falls asleep, Soundwave will follow soon after (Ravage knows this and takes advantage of it when Soundwave is overworking himself. He cannot resist the pull of a sleepy Ravage. No work. Just Naptime).

THATS ALL I CAN THINK OF OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD BUT. BUT I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR ,, I LOVE THEM

[lorelune]

(cw: yan gojo, horror elements, obsession, divinity)

gojo satoru as a god with many eyes and only one face, who hasn't been human in a long time (maybe ever, he can't quite recall.) he doesn't need to exist here, or there, or anywhere, but he must at the same time. poor old god.

imagine his surprise when a little human looks up at him-- sees him, like he sees things. poor little creature.

little things like you aren't meant to see big things like him. as you cry and wretch on the floor of your bedroom, overwhelmed, he steals the memory from you. it would be cruel to burden you with Sight like that.

he watches you, stays close to earth, and keeps it in the palm of his hand as you go about your days. he learns about you. how you take you coffee, the type of nightmares you have, the exact speed blood shoots through your veins. he learns the sound of air entering your lungs, and leaving. how cute of you, needing so much matter to keep your little flesh and body moving? he finds you charming, entrancing even.

there's many gods though, ones like him that are big and endless, and one hurts him. hurts him. how odd. and perhaps, in his pain, he descends to your little place in the world. he crafts bones and ribs and blood for himself. he lets it soak your garden, fertilizes your flower beds with him.

and oh, the sweet thing you are, you see this almost-not-quite human sprawled in your fields, bleeding gold, and help him. you press a cold glass to his lips (cold, glass-- new sensations for him. he loves it. he thinks he already loves you, and he hardly knows what love is) and have him drink. you feed him mushy human food, but it taste (taste, oh, what a sense he never realize he lacked. he wants to tastes you) warm and homey.

you tell him you'll look after him, clean his wound, and take him elsewhere if its his injury worsens (it won't, he could heal himself, and snatch you into the immaterial if he wanted, but he doesn't.)

"Is there anything else you need? I can fetch you another blanket--" you move to leave his side (oh, he's material, you can leave, he's not everywhere anymore, the feeling stabs him in the chest and chills him.)

he drags you back, first by your wrists, then by a tight grip on your jaw. he takes you nose to nose, close as atoms and little particles will allow. he laughs, his first material laugh, and says, "I only need you."

[girlfox]

ah the eternal battle of appreciating riot's world building & lore surrounding ahri, or yoinking her straight out and writing a general fantasy main verse for her . . .

[makeitlookdecent]

local silly is learning so much guys...<3

[quietlyblooms]

i swear once i get through this week, i'll be more active writing-wise! it's just been stressful bc of some ooc things, like both my best friend's kid and my mom having their birthdays this weekend :' ) i'm just running low on battery as a result, so i appreciate y'all's patience with me!!

[icewindandboringhorror]

a boye whom'st loves to attack paper balls

[acerathia]

i hate when i get multiple brainrots.... like bestie, I just finished with dabi, wdym I should write gojo??? i barely remember the anime???

[maxverstappendefender]

ain't no love in oklahoma // op81 smau

description: twisters actress!reader x op81 but lando is convinced oscar is lying (from request)

a/n: sorry for being completely inactive. life happened and it didn't happen in a good way! i have a huge exam coming up soon so i will most likely still be inactive besides maybe a few short things here and there. anyways first oscar fic so enjoy! all pics found on pinterest, i don't own any

a/n pt2: might do something fun for each day in october but im not sure what so send me some ideas. also might do some more headcannons/blurbs soon here!

requests: closed but feel free to send me some messages since i love talking to you guys

masterlist

liked by oscarpiastri, glenpowell, and 2,927,641 others

youruser: go see twisters!! if you don’t, you suck and you better hope you don’t get stuck in a tornado because there’s useful information in our movie

tagged: glenpowell

view all comments

oscarpiastri: proud of you!!

↳ youruser: 🧡

glenpowell: caption is so real of you

user1: doesn’t yn have a boyfriend? why is she so close to glen?

↳ user2: yes but probably because there’s limited space. yn isn’t like that

↳ oscarpiastri: exactly what user2 said

landonorris: cute!

↳ user3: what are you doing here??

↳ user4: lando in the comments?

user5: such a good movie

user6: yn + glen = power duo

liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,951,750 others

oscarpiastri: proud boyfriend award goes to me 🏆 thx for all the bts selfies

tagged: youruser, glenpowell

view all comments

landonorris: i just laughed out loud

landonorris: “boyfriend” lmaooo

↳ user7: i cant tell if he’s joking or serious

user8: cutest couple ever

glenpowell: aww so glad you remembered the time you took me to the aquarium, what a romantic!

↳ youruser: get your own boyfriend capybara

↳ user9: yn CLOCKED him

// lando’s phone//

//

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 4,027,835 others

landonorris: POLE BABYYYY!!! everyone ignore my teammates instagram posts, i have told him to stop. i think he took a hit to the head or something

view all comments

oscarpiastri: do you want to go to the farm or not?

↳ landonorris: you already said i could go so no take backs

↳ user10: lando is going to yn's farm??

↳ user11: LANDO'S MEETING YN?!

↳ user12: oh i know he's going to fangirl so hard

user13: get me someone who looks at me the way oscar looks at lando

↳ user14: are we sure that they aren't the ones dating?

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 3,017,426 others

youruser: back home finally! pic 1: yeehaw. pic 2: my cat cora had her babies!!! pic 3: dinner date :)

tagged: oscarpiastri

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user15: CORA HAD HER KITTIES

↳ youruser: i am officially a grandma. i feel the gray hairs coming in now

user16: oscar and yn are endgame

oscarpiastri: the best company

↳ landonorris: STOP, idk how you got her in on this joke either

↳ user16: i can't tell if lando knows they are actually dating and is joking or if he truly does not believe oscar

user17: boyfriend is back on the feed!

↳ user18: farmer yn is back on the feed!

glenpowell: miss you lady

↳ youruser: you miss my animals more

↳ glenpowell: and what about it.

liked by youruser, oscarpiastri, and 4,209,384 others

landonorris: OMG HE WASN'T LYING i got to feed so many animals, got to channel my inner cowboy, AND get drunk with the yn? i can die a happy man

tagged: youruser

view all comments

oscarpiastri: believe me now?

↳ landonorris: never doubted you

↳ user19: lando seriously didn't believe oscar lol

↳ user20: i fully thought he was joking the entire time

user21: how hard did you fangirl to meet yn, lando?

↳ landonorris: surprised i didn't pass out honestly. i facetimed GLEN POWELL

youruser: so glad you had a fun time!!

liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,298,361 others

oscarpiastri: everyone clear that this is my girlfriend?

tagged: youruser

view all comments

user22: sassy oscar

↳ user23: channeling his inner lando

landonorris: yes sir 🫡

↳ oscarpiastri: stop being weird ?

youruser: MY MANNNNN

↳ user24: oh she's in deep

user25: there is one thing oscar doesn't play about in life: yn

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 4,208,763 others

youruser: didn't even know there was confusion that this was my boyfriend lol

tagged: oscarpiastri

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landonorris: how was i meant to know?!

↳ user26: literally how everyone else knew, instagram.

glenpowell: yn stop posting pics of me and my boyfriend and acting like he's yours

↳ youruser: i dont like this joke.

↳ oscarpiastri: bromance or whatever

↳ user27: they're in a throuple

↳ youruser: ew

↳ glenpowell: disgusting

↳ oscarpiastri: huhhh

user28: couple goals forever and ever

user29: if they don't get married... love isn't real

[aquaticmercy]

Beautiful Mess

Summary : Bucky tries to cook you a food you’ve been craving. It goes wrong, but it also goes right.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her) 

Warnings : food, mild cursing? and lots and lots of fluff! 

Requested by : anon 

Word count : 1.5k

Note : It’s my first fic in 4 years and boy I forgot how good it felt writing for fun. Thank you to the anon who requested this! (I said it would be >1k word blurb but I got over the limit and I hope you don’t mind!) Enjoy!

Requests are open!

“Shut up,” Bucky grumbled, aggressively poking at the smoke alarm with the end of his rifle case. He stretched on his toes, metal arm whirring as he tried to reach the obnoxiously tall ceiling. 

‘Oh this is wonderful,’ you had been giddy with joy when the two of you viewed this apartment, ‘I love the high ceilings, don't you, Buck?’

He had chuckled and agreed that day. For all he cared, the ceiling could be as high as the atmosphere allowed if it meant it made you happy. But now he was thinking maybe your next place should have, at the very least, a reachable ceiling on his tip toes. 

The shrill beeping had been going on for what felt like an eternity. Bucky Barnes has never been known for his patience, and now it was wearing dangerously thin.

Clearly, he hadn't thought any of his actions through. The rifle case was too flimsy, and it bent under the pressure of each jab. If the alarm didn’t stop soon, it wouldn’t just be his sanity at stake— the neighbours would probably come knocking on the door asking if they needed to evacuate.

"Great idea, Barnes. Brilliant," he muttered to himself, throwing a desperate scan around the room. His eyes landed on the bo staff you kept in the corner— a weapon from your training collection. 

“Perfect,” he said to himself, practically lunging for it. Surely, you wouldn’t mind him using it just this once. It was just a stick, right?

Grabbing the staff, he reached up again, tapping the alarm with its tip. His strength— which usually worked in his favour— became his single greatest enemy. With a loud snap, the white disk detached completely, wires dangling from the ceiling as the alarm finally went silent. A part of him took in the quiet bliss for a moment before realising the repercussions. He’d have to contact the building super, then pay the fees, and since he’s off for a mission in a couple of days, he had unintentionally given you a bit more life admin work around the house.

He cursed under his breath, staring at the detached alarm hanging limply in his hand.

He tossed it into the kitchen trash bin, as if hiding it there might make the problem disappear.  For a moment Bucky just stood there, staring at the mess around him, trying to make sense of how things had spiraled out of control.

He ran a hand through his brown thick locks, ones you had asked him to grow out again. He sighed. How did it go so wrong?

All he wanted was to do something nice for you. Just one thing. You’d been so good to him— so patient, especially after he'd returned from weeks of missions worn down and, admittedly, a bit grumpy. You greeted him with nothing but warmth, even though you were probably as tired as he was.

And then there was the food. Bucky still wasn’t sure why he'd been craving bland, 1940s-era meals, the kind no modern person could possibly enjoy, but you indulged him anyway. When he’d mentioned how much he missed a particular meatloaf recipe, you made it for him. He could tell from the look on your face that you were struggling not to spit every bite out, but you powered through for his sake. And when he’d told you about his mom’s molasses cookies, you had taken the time to bake a jar that tasted just like the ones from his childhood.

It was perfect. You were perfect.

So why couldn’t he get this right?

You'd been talking about focaccia earlier this week, your eyes lit up in childlike wonder as you told him about how you used to experiment with different toppings. He’d taken a mental note of that moment, thinking he could surprise you by making some himself.

He glanced around the kitchen. Flour dusted on nearly every surface, olive oil splattered on the counter, and a sad, burnt dough resting on the baking tray. 

Bucky sighed, leaning back against the counter, staring at the mess with a mixture of frustration and helplessness.

You’d probably laugh at this, he thought as a self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He could already hear your teasing voice, reminding him that not everything had to be perfect.

But still, he wanted to get it right. 

He glanced at the clock. You’d be home soon. He had maybe thirty minutes to try and salvage this— or at least clean up the evidence before you walked through the door. 

Priorities, he thought.

He cracked his knuckles, pouring the excess dough to a new baking tray. He thanked whatever gods still existed that he had accidentally made way too much dough. Not even waiting for it to rise, he shoved it in the oven and reshaped it into something that didn’t look like a science experiment gone wrong.

“Okay,” he pressed a palm to his forehead as if that would magically clear his mind. “Focus.”

He realised the oven was too hot, and that was probably why it burnt. 

Very smart, Barnes, he thought to himself, about time you used basic logic.

As he fumbled with the oven dials, he heard the familiar sound of your keys jingling at the front door. His heart sank. Shit. She’s home early.

Frantically, Bucky darted toward the flour-covered countertops, grabbing a towel to wipe down the mess. But there was no saving kitchen wreck—not in under thirty seconds, anyway. 

You stepped through the door, humming softly to yourself as you dropped your heavy bag with a thud. You stretched your shoulders, straining a little from the weight. Tossing the keys to the side, you noticed how uncharacteristically quiet it is in your home.

As you moved deeper into the apartment, you saw why.

It was your boyfriend, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, holding a flour and oil-coated dish towel like a deer caught in headlights.

The corners of your mouth lifted. “What on earth?”

“I can explain,” a red plum blush coloured his cheeks, raising his hands in defense. You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to the crime scene.

“Wait…” your eyes widened, “are you trying to make focaccia?” 

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “I thought I could surprise you with it, since you’d been talking about how much you love it. But, uh…” He motioned to the oven. “It’s not exactly turning out the way I planned.”

You let out a soft laugh, one that melted Bucky's heart, that made his chest thrum with joy. You took the towel from his hand, squirming then dropping it when you touched the part of the fabric that was very sticky with congealed liquid, clearly a mix of olive oil and flour. “I can see that,” you teased, quickly wiping your hand as you bent down to be eye-level with the dough. “What is this? An attempt at modern art?”

Bucky groaned, covering his face with his hands. You looked around the room, seeing your bo staff on the floor, and his (hopefully unloaded) rifle by the dishwasher. “Did you shoot it?” you joked.

“No.”

“Did you hit it with my stick?”

“It’s a disaster,” he complained, exasperated.

You took a deep breath and then giggled, your shoulders shaking as you leaned against his shoulder for support.

“I tried, okay?” he grumbled, part mortified, part relieved, and fully, thoroughly, embarrassed. Still, he could feel his heart flutter as he watched you laugh.

You cupped his cheeks affectionately. “I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just to make me bread.”

He shrugged, his expression softening as he looked down at you. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. You’ve been so good to me. I thought I could, I don’t know… return the favor.”

Your heart melted at his words. You didn't care about the focaccia, or the mess in the kitchen. It was about the fact that Bucky had gone out of his way to try and do something sweet for you— even if it clearly went south.

“Bucky,” you said softly, standing on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love that you tried.”

He sighed in relief, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into his warm chest. “I just didn’t want to screw it up.”

“You didn’t,” you reassured, resting your head against his shoulder. “I didn’t even know you knew what focaccia was,” you teased.

He chuckled, burying his face in your hair. “I’m still not sure I do.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him “Tell you what, I’ll make you an offer. I’ll show you how to make focaccia, and we’ll order takeout in the meantime.”

Bucky’s smile widened, as he peppered kisses on your face, overwhelming you with as much love as he could possibly give, “That sounds perfect.”

You threw him a clean kitchen towel once you were able to escape his affectionate attack, not that you wanted to. “Now help me clean up, Buck.”

He grabbed the towel and started in the corner as you started chucking empty olive oil bottles into the trash bin.

Wait, trash bin-

“What the hell is the fire alarm doing in the trash, Barnes?” 

Bucky froze, turning to you with wide eyes. “I can explain.”

You tried to suppress a laughter, piecing together the clues, “Did you break it?”

He raised his hands in defense. “It was beeping, and I didn’t mean to rip it out of the ceiling…”

“You tried to kill it with my staff, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

You smiled. Oh, what a beautiful mess you had found yourself in.

-end

[hungharrington]

Your last blurb has me thinking of Steve and soft early relationship smut where it’s still fairly new and exciting and he’s just so sweet and wants to be close to you 💔💔

this is basically the premise of a little less conversation BUT it’s also such a good prompt anyways that i wanna write something goofy n domestic hehe <3 u put heartbreak emojis but i’m making this goopy sry! and actually it’s not even soft god i’m sorry MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Steve sinks into you in one slow thrust and makes a noise like he’s been stabbed, his forehead to your collarbone.

For one very long moment, he doesn’t move.

“You… you okay?” You ask, all breathy yourself. Your cunt pulses wildly, eager for him to start moving, for some friction— but you’re worried he’s maybe hurt himself somehow. “Steve?”

“I’m good,” He hisses, voice all tight like he is very much not at all good. It blends away as a husky tone threads through his voice. “God, sorry, you just feel—“

He gives a little rock of his hips, pulling out an inch and thrusting back in and a beautiful moan pulls from his lips. He does it again, pulling out a little further and pushing himself back in to your wet, inviting cunt.

He groans again, “Oh my god, I like you so much.”

You startle a laugh, your arms around his neck sliding down so you can pull his head up a bit. Steve’s flushed and looking sheepish by the time you get him face to face. His hips haven’t stopped moving, still small, perfect thrusts in and out, driving you mad.

“Sorry,” He says again, half panting. “Not the best thing to say the first time we fuck but,” He huffs, a throaty moan slipping out in the middle of the sentence. “It’s true.”

You’re beginning to pant too, all your inhales sounding gaspy and high. Your thighs spread more instinctively, pulling them further back to your chest, letting him get in deeper.

“N-No, it’s good,” You say, smiling a bit as he focuses on your face, his lips parted and pupils blown wide. “I really like you too.”

Your words inspire another moan, particularly loud, and his hips rut into you with more fervor, a soft lewd squelching noise beginning to fill the bedroom. Steve moans shakily, peppering sloppy kisses up the side of your neck.

One hand shifts on your hip, sliding up to press your leg further out and unexpectedly, and there’s an audible pop of a joint cracking. Steve stills instantly, still inside you, as he stares down at your hip.

“Oh my god—”

“No, no, it’s fine!” You hastily interrupt, knowing what he’s thinking. You tug his gaze over to you and away from your leg, seeing the smidge of panic in his eyes. “It just cracks sometimes, you couldn’t know that, it’s fine, it didn’t hurt.”

Steve deflates rapidly, giving a relieved chuckle against your chest where he buries his face. When he speaks, his words are all muffled, “I thought I broke your hip.”

You can’t help it, you laugh a bit at that— imagining his panic at the thought. For the third time, you urge his face up and out of hiding, leaning up to nuzzle against his face.

“Quickest way to end a relationship ever,” He jokes, but you can hear the genuine worry beneath his humour.

“No, no, I’m sorry I should’ve told you,” You murmur tenderly, dropping little kisses along his cheeks and nose. His face blazes hot beneath your ardent affection. “But hey, we’re figuring it out, aren’t we? That’s part of the fun, yeah?”

You use your ankles, crossed over his tailbone, to press him into you and Steve gets the message quickly, starting up his gentle thrusts again with a grunt. The soft noises of sex resume, mixed with your combined low moans. The rhythm from before is easy to slip back into. Your cunt throbs hotly, pleasure starting to drool through your stomach.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes heavily, watching your face closely. “Part of the fun. Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

He says it so sincerely that it makes you gasp, clenching around him and eyes screwing closed for a moment. A low whine crawls out your throat.

“God, fuck you for saying that,” You say, with no heat at all. You can’t open your eyes just yet, you’ll combust if you see how handsome he looks right now.

“Yeah?” Steve huffs, sounding a little smug. Your cunt gushes at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you’re right. Figuring this stuff out is the fun part.”

You whine as he fucks in a little harder, the angle just right to have your gut twisting up in pleasure. Your breath is ragged and you finally open your eyes again, swallowing back another sound at the sight of Steve. Messy haired, pink cheeks, reddened lips. He looks hotter than you’ve ever seen him.

“Shut up and hold my hand,” You say— because two can play that game. It works a charm. You can feel the stutter in his hips, see the ripple on his face, hear the whimper in his throat.

Steve keens, tucking his face down into your neck again. His hand searches the sheets til it finds yours, fingers intertwining before he presses your linked hands into the mattress and ruts into your snug cunt harder and faster, deeper.

“F-Fuck,” He stammers, a moan lilting the word. “I like you so much.”

You can’t even laugh this time round because your mind is starting to melt a little at the edges— but it makes the pleasure all that much better, knowing he means it.

[hs-is-loml]

Don't Make Me Say It Again. (x.t)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Addams!Reader

Summary: blurb! xavier is close to snapping when you don't realize what he has been hinting.

Warnings: mutual pining, fluff

a/n: okay, another one before i go torture myself in actually reading my textbook that i haven't picked up in weeks.

masterlist

“Shouldn’t you be with your sister?” Xavier questioned as you tied on your apron.

“No, she wanted to work at pilgrim world for some odd reason. I would rather die than dress up as a colonist,” you informed the boy.

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Hey, Y/N! Need a hand?” Tyler called out from behind the counter as you and Xavier cleaned the tables.

“Already got one,” you replied back pointing to Thing wiping the table.

“I thought I told you and your sister that he was bad news,” Xavier whispered to you as he reached over to grab a mug on your side of the table.

“Twice actually, but I couldn’t care less about him. Wait. Enlighten me,” you turned to face him.

That was when you noticed how close you two actually were. Though you were standing around a foot away from each other, it was concerning how he seemed to step closer to talk.

“It happened last Outreach Day. I was working on a mural for the town then he and his friends come up and start attacking me. They destroyed the mural and left me with bruised ribs. People like him don’t like people like us,” he explained.

“Hm.”

“It’s not like you would care anyways, right?” Xavier scoffed walking off to the next table.

“It seems like he’s changed, quiter softer now, which is disappointing,” you admitted as you followed Xavier. “Why do you care so much if I talk to him though?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Why would I kid?” you blanked.

“Open your eyes, Y/N! I have been here on your side this entire time, and you still don’t get it?” Xavier snapped banging the table with the tub full of plates and mugs taking a step closer to you. “Sometimes it’s unbelievable how little empathy you have for others.”

“Xavier,” you breathed out taking a step back.

“I like you, Y/n. What do I have to do for you to see that?” he followed in taking a step closer.

“You know I don’t actually like Tyler, right? You might be an imbecile and infuriating but-” you hinted.

“Really know how to make a guy blush,” he let out a small laugh.

“It’s the attributes I like about you though,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that?” he mocked.

“Don’t make me say it again,” you deadpanned looking down on the floor avoiding his gaze.

“No, I don’t think I heard you the first time,” he joked he lifted your chin with his hand. “What did you say?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

“You gonna let me kiss you?”

“Depends,” you answered.

He moved his hand from your chin to the back of your neck pulling you into a kiss. You found yourself kissing him back wrapping your arms around his neck. You could feel him smile into the kiss. You didn’t kow how long you to stayed there for until you heard a cough behind you.

“Seems like you’ve had fun working,” Wednesday said unimpressed as she pulled you away from Xavier. In which he just laughed as you tried to get your arm out of Wednesday’s grip.

"Wednesday, why do you always have to grab the same arm," you whined as she dragged you out.

[sturnsdarling]

pls pls pls make a fic of either matt or chris where they love cockwarming and beg you everynight to do it or sumthin

"lemme jus' put it in"

mini blurbs of cockwamring, one for Chris and one for Matt.

vibe check: smut (cockwamring, obviously), Chris' one is lowk unrealistic but i love it anyway, biting (i have a thing if you couldn't tell from all my other work), pet names, praise all the stuff we love

A/N: this was so much fun to think up honestly, send me more prompts!!!

love and cigs, merc

Matt; sometimes he's too tired to fuck, but he misses your pussy when he's not inside it.

"jus' lemme sleep with it inside of you, angel, please?" Matt pulled you close against his chest, kneading at the flesh of your stomach as he pressed his hard cock into your ass.

"Matt" you chuckled, "you were just telling me about how tired you were, and now you wanna fuck?" you pressed back into him, unable to stop yourself.

Matt shook his head, "not fuck, pretty girl, I jus' miss your pussy so much when I'm working all day n'I need it" he whined into your skin, pressing wet kisses over your shoulder.

"you just wanna put it in?" you craned your neck round, raking your hands through his hair slightly.

"mhm, and then I can fall asleep with you in my arms n' my dick nice and warm in that perfect pussy of yours" Matt nodded, eyes fluttering closed.

You smiled at him, placing a soft kiss on his nose before turning fully to face him, wrapping one leg around his waist and pulling him into a soft kiss. Matt whimpered into the kiss, dragging his hand down to pump his leaking cock, swiping it through your folds as your position gave him the perfect angle. You arched into him, biting down on his lip slightly as he teased your soaked hole with his throbbing tip. He used his hand to spread your ass apart, using the other to slowly insert himself inside of you, needing nothing other than your sticky juices to slide in.

His whole body relaxed at the feeling as he bottomed out, pressing his cock deep into your pussy with a blissful groan, a sound you echoed with a small whimper.

Matt pushed himself as deep into you as possible with a grunt, "your pussy was made for me, my pretty girl" he said, wrapping his arms around you tight as he leant his head down onto yours.

"feels so good inside me, Matt" you whined, nestled into him and desperate to move.

Matt chuckled and pressed a long kiss into the top of your head, one hand still wrapped tight around your waist as the other came down to palm the flesh of your ass, kneading over your thigh occasionally as it draped over him.

"I could stay like this forever" he whispered sleepily, his dick twitching inside you every so often in response to you clenching around him.

You hummed, tracing circles on his chest with your finger, slowly relaxing into Matt. The sting of him sliding into you had subsided, and all you could focus on was the blissful stretch of your pussy around him, sucking him in like a vice. Your walls were warm around him, lulling him to sleep as he played with the flesh of your thighs like a fidget toy.

Within moments, Matt was asleep, and you weren't far behind. There was something so comforting about having him inside you like this, tucked between your walls as you curled up on his chest. You barely moved all night, and if you did, your movements were met with a boyish whine and Matts grip tightening around you.

At some point during the night, you had slipped out his grip to go to the toilet, managing to leave the room without waking him up, or so you thought.

When you ducked back into bed, you were pulled into Matts chest with brute force, his hard dick pressed against the flesh of your ass once more as he whined in your ear.

"where'd you go?" he mumbled, eyed still closed.

you chuckled, reaching down in between the two of you to pump his length, "I just went to pee, Matt"

he hummed, nestling his head down into the crook of your neck, "need you around me, pretty girl" his words were barely coherent, you weren't even sure if he was actually awake.

His hand dipped down between your thighs and rubbed slow, tired circles against your clit as you pumped his length between your sticky folds.

You moaned softly as he rubbed soft circles over your puffy clit, thrusting his cock into your hand, begging to be back inside of you. You granted him his wish, pushing his leaking cock back into your warm pussy with a soft, tired moan. Matt lightly bit down on your shoulder as he bottomed out, soothing the sting with a short kiss as he pulled you into him desperately close, nestling his cock snug in your pussy.

Before you could react to the sensation of him stretching you out, coupled with the tingling feeling his slow circles on your clit were igniting throughout your body, he was asleep again, and after shifting slightly to get comfortable once more, so were you.

Chris; he needs you, and it doesn't matter where you are.

You and Chris were tucked away in a dark corner of a house party that neither of you really wanted to be at, the music thumping against your skulls. Chris couldn't keep his hands off you, the sight of you in your pretty little outfit was driving him insane, and all he could think about was being nestled in your warm, slick walls.

"come on, baby, please?" Chris tugged at your thigh, his tone whiny but his grip bruising.

"Chris, we're literally in the middle of a party that you dragged me to, I did say we could have just stayed at home" You rolled your eyes at him, placing a firm hand over his as you glared at him.

"I know but, jus - come on" he whined, moving his hand up your bare thigh, pressing his thumb into the flesh with his bottom lip tucked between his lips, "you look so good in this skirt and I jus- I need it"

You chuckled, involuntarily opening your legs to give him better access to you. You loved Chris like this, normally he was so cool and collected, but right now, in the middle of a party he 'had to be at' he was desperate for you.

"do you wanna go home?" you asked, shifting closer to him and placing your leg over his.

His breath hitched at the pressure of your leg against his, he shook his head, looking down at where your soft thigh rested over his leg, "can't, baby, I need to stay, need t'show my face, remember?"

"so, what do you wanna do?" you batted your lashes at him, knowing exactly what he wanted.

He grunted at the sight of you even looking at him, his jeans getting tighter around his crotch as you dipped your head to the crook of his neck to pepper soft kisses long his skin. "you know what I want, stop teasing me"

You chuckled against his skin, lifting yourself up so you were planted firmly on his lap. A low groan left Chris' throat at the friction of your bare ass under your skirt against his jeans. His hands found the flesh of your hips instantly, pressing bruises into you as he attempted to grind you down onto him. Your back was pressed into his chest as you slid your hand behind you. Your fingers fiddled with the button on his jeans as he watched intently, unable to take his eyes off your hand as you gained access to his throbbing cock from between the two of you.

As your hand wrapped around him, Chris sucked all the air around him in through his teeth, his head rocking back on its hinge before he let it fall forward onto your shoulder. You chuckled at his neediness, pumping him a few times behind you before shifting slightly to raise your hips just above his. Luckily, the party was packed, and no one could see the two of you, let alone care enough to pay attention to what you were doing. You dragged his leaking tip through your soaked folds a few times, spreading your wetness across yourself.

"you're so wet, baby, you want me that bad? huh?" Chris whispered into your skin.

Your eyes fluttered at the feeling of him bucking his hips up, pressing his tip into your sopping hole momentarily, "lets not talk about who wants who badly, yeah, Christopher?" you quipped back, lowering yourself down onto him at an agonising pace.

"oh, fuck" Chris bit down on your shoulder at the sensation of your warm pussy clenching around him as he bottomed out.

"stay jus' like that, princess, jus' like that" he was stuttering, his head spinning at your gummy walls being wrapped around him like this in public.

You whimpered at the feeling of him stretching you out, desperate to move but knowing that this is all he wanted; to be completely inside of you, a sign of his desperation for you and a silent marking of territory at this ridiculous party.

His cock was nestled inside your walls, throbbing at the sensation of your slick pussy around him, leaking pre-cum inside you as you attempted to get comfortable, trying to look as un-obvious as possible.

"you're so fuckin' tight, feel s'good around me like this, baby, so warm n' tight around me" Chris was rambling, whispering nonsense in your ear as he tried to collect his thoughts off the floor.

His grip on your hips was nearly painful, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin deeper every time you clenched around him.

You stayed like that for hours, Chris remaining rock hard inside your pussy, refusing to let you get off of him for anything, completely obsessed with the way you felt around him.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[kaitlynpcallmebeepme]

Sea Sickness

Sea Sickness

Luke Hughes x fem!reader (established relationship, but still new)

Idea: Reader gets nauseous from being on the boat at the Hughes’s Lake House and snuggles up to Luke.

Requested: Nope. 

Author’s Note:  I know I’m bouncing around who I’m writing for, but I’m on a NHL spree right now. I also get nauseated if I'm on a boat or in the ocean for too long. Fun Fact: I wrote the beginning part of this on a note card while working by myself in the OR today. We had a really long case where I just had to check up on people during the middle of it (hence why I wrote this on a card because I don’t like going on my phone when I’m in the OR. It's unprofessional). I don’t know any of these people personally. The closest I’ve gotten to the team (that wasn’t just playing in the band at the games or when they were walking past us down the 2023 red carpet in tampa) was a tuba was talking to some of them in his plane row on the ride back from that trip (he ended up being the tuba you see in the senior picture from 2024) and one of the coaches had to share our bus on the way back from the 2023 frozen four game with his wife and two young daughters (I kept trying to get the younger one to smile at me unsuccessfully).  Someone from my hotel room also shared the elevator ride up with the entire Fantilli family the night they lost that game in 2023 (I think Adam also won the Hobey Baker award that same night). I’ve also been playing my lego lord of the rings game. Anyway, enjoy this little blurb.

Tagging some of my favorite Hughes/NHL writers, love y’all.

@wineauntie @thedevilrisen @winterbarnesblog @sc0tters 

I forgot to mention that this is kinda based on the cute stuff @bedsyandco writes

I'm now sad when I'm uploading this because a friend from college drumline has an incurable brain cancer. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers (he's only 19 or 20).

Requests are still open.  Feedback is always appreciated.  Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. If you want to only be tagged when I upload something for a certain character or shows, let me know as well.  

Warning: None, just general fluff. Feeling sick on a boat. 

Word Count: 488

Being on a boat wasn’t your most favorite thing in the world, mainly because the last time you were on a boat, it got stuck in the middle of the laek and had to be towed back to shore (true story), but when your boyfriend Luke invited you to spend the weekend at the lakehouse with ihs brothers and friends, you weren't going to say no. The weekend had been filled with lots of eating, playing outside, and the boys being competitive at every game they pick up (even the old board game you brought to teach them how to play).  Just trying to keep up with them all was exhausting, so that’s how you ended up on the back of the boat enjoying the warm air instead of diving into the water again.  The boys had been going back and forth between wakeboarding and chatting on the boat deck. With them supplying the lake with plenty of waves, the constand up and down was starting to make your stomach sick.  You scooched over and made yourself comfortable laying your head on Luke’s shoulder.  He then opened his arms and wrapped you in his warm embrace so you could crawl on his lap and snuggle closer to his chest. 

“You feeling ok?” 

“Yeah, just want to stop the constant movement.” It was getting to a point were you just wanted to stop the constant movement.  It being really hot out didn’t help either. 

“We’ll head to shore soon. Then we can cool off inside.” 

Being wrapped up in Luke’s embrace with his fingers gently carding through your hair or down your shoulder leaving goosebumps in their wake and shading you with his fit body definitely helped keep your mind off of your stomach and the boat’s ever shifting movements.  Luke wasn’t much of a pda person, but you always encouraged him to show little bits of it at least in front of his family or close friends.  

Little did you know, that’s exactly who was eyeing the interaction.  Jack, Quinn, Trevor, Cole, and Dylan all had stopped what they were talking about in favor of watching the interaction between you two.  Eventhough they were not all related, they felt like proud older brothers seeing Luke be so considerate and affectionate in front of them.  Of couse they’re all going to tease him relentlessly later about this, but they were gentlemen in regards to respecting the timing and the moment.

“Just lay down and close your eyes. We’ll be on shore soon.”  You snuggled deeper into Luke’s neck keeping your eyes closed and focused on his soft skin, his natural scent, and the way his warm body curled around yours. He even tugged on your legs to pull you fully into his lap as his large frame wrapped around your body fully encasing you in his warmth and comfort. 

Nothing better than enjoying the summer with those you love.