#for those rainy days or cosy nights

[milktiicup]

do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling

persistence is key

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<

warnings. canon typical violence >w<

You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.

Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you. 

You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”

In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.

At least for a while, he left you alone.

Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.

However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.

It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.

A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it. 

You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?

You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.

Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.

And Mr. Scarletella. 

The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.

“You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”

Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging. 

You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace. 

“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.

Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone. 

“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak. 

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.

“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”

The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.

You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”

Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.

“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone. 

The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had. 

The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.

“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”

He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks. 

“No. Go away.”

“Give name. Teach.”

“Go away!”

“Teach name.”

“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”

He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up. 

“Wrong name.”

“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.

“You teach them name?”

Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.

“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently.  “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”

“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that. 

Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe. 

You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.

Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw! 

“Hehe.”

You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns. 

You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.

Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage. 

You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.

Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.  

“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion.  “What the hell?”

“Help you.”

“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”

Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward. 

“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”

“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”

Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”

“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”

“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.” 

You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”

He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.

He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”

Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists. 

Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait… 

Oh my good God, does he like you?

“Heh…”  Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”

You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…

Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”  

“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.” 

Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while. 

He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”

“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”

“Them!” 

Curse this damn language. 

“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”

His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…

Umbrella.

You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.

That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’ 

Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude? 

How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!

You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!

In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.

Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?” 

“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”

Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.

Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving. 

“Can’t give name,” you remind him.

He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.” 

Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain. 

“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”

“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”

“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”

There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him. 

And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”

You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.

But at least something is better than nothing, right?

[nescence]

Marriage life

JJK men x Fem!Reader

Summary - Basically just you and him in a marriage. Both wholesome and smutty. Involves: Gojo, Getou & Nanami

Warnings: Mirror sex, pervert Getou, praising, masturbating, massage sesh with Nanami ;), overstimulation.

PT2 pending…..

GOJO

You and Gojo are pretty much the rich aunty and uncle. You don’t have kids because your sister has pretty much filled that hole for you and babysitting the two twins is enough.

Movie night is a must with you guys. It’s relaxing and comforting especially on rainy days. So before bed when the kids are over you either watch horror or comedy, all snuggled up in a blanket. Gojo is always the last to fall asleep, it’s like he’s programmed to stay awake and protect you - always being the one to carry each of you to bed carefully.

“Satoru?” You mumble as your body is carefully placed onto the bed. You hear him hum as he covers you up. “The kids…” you trail off, sleep still in your body. He joins you in bed placing a kiss on your cheek then lips. “took care of em, get some beauty sleep” he reassures, arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him planting another on your forehead before you snuggle into him. The warmth emitting his body immediately putting you to sleep. His embrace has always been comforting, bringing you a sense of saftey you couldn't describe.

Clinginess, Gojo can be clingy whenever you’re off to work. He found it ridiculous why you would want to work in the first place. He had enough money for generations upon generations so you working was always baffling to him. Who in their right mind would work willingly?.

Sweets. You guys could make a factory with the amount of sweets you had in your cupboards. Maybe that’s why he always has an unbelievable amount of energy. Even in bed.

Practically a house husband.

“How’s my beautiful wife doing today?” Spreading his arms wide, Gojo pulls you into a hug. You were tired but you gladly accepted it, letting yourself fall into his hold. His arms remain at your hips staring down at you. “You’re glowing” his eyes sparkle, and you frown.

“Really? I thought I looked like shit” you say but he shakes his head “that’s weird…didn’t use anything new”. Once those words came out your mouth Gojo grins. “I could think of a reason why” his tone was cheeky, eyebrows wriggling as he stares down at you. Realising what he meant, you groan pinching his nipple which makes him jump.

“Ya nasty” rolling your eyes with a smile on your face.

Always, always praising you.

“Look at you…” Gojo practically whispers to himself, watching his fingers circle your wet clit through the mirror. Your body twitching under his electrifying touch, the way the tip of his middle finger delicately presses against your clit has you shaking for mercy. Licking his lips hungrily, his eyes observe. A fucking. Sight. To see.

Your brows curled and bottom lip disappears underneath your teeth. Legs broadened - felt embarrassing to you - like a work of art mirrored at gojo, granting him the sight of every inch and surface of his wife; your pussy glosses under the soft lighting of your bedroom, keeping his glistening cock cosy within whilst drops of cum seep out, running down his length. Your low whimpers sounding like the desperate cry of a pup. Face stained with dried tears. And Gojo loves it, bringing you to such a state to show how much he adores your body, how a stunning woman like you should be treated - he wants to give you nothing but pure pleasure caused by him and him only.

“Ahn~~” you moan, trying your best to keep your legs open as Gojo continues teasing your abused clit. Your sensitivity at a high due to your nonstop cumming. “You’re soo..beautiful [Name]” He lulls into your ear, mouth against your heated skin as he speaks. “Look baby, look” he stops fidgeting with your bud, your eyes avert to his in the mirror. “Don’t ya look fucking gorgeous?” Mouth parted as he speaks, breathing hungrily as he takes your hand into his. Guiding your fingers through your folds, making you spread yourself nice and wide for him to marvel at how well you suck him in, he hisses feeling you squeeze him along with the gorgeous sight. He has your fingers run through your slit, gathering both his and your essence. You exhale at the action any light touch on your clit making you twitch. “Bet you taste as good you look” his eyes lock onto yours, “hmm?”. Your gaze never leaves his blues as he guides your hand up to your lips, the pure intimacy in your eyes as your lips fall open, giving him the opportunity to push your fingers into your mouth. Closing it shut, you relish in the sweet taste of you and your husband, moaning vulgarly as you suck and swirl your tongue around your digits. Causing your husband to further expand within you.

His eyes, lost in yours, clouded by his lust whilst he watches you swirl your hips. Gaining whatever friction from his cock Sitting deep within your walls. All the while you’re lost in the motion, your eyes rolling shut revelling in the sensation. Your sucking becoming weak as you grow a knot within your stomach, mouth loosening and drool running down your chin. Drunk with sweet bliss.

Fucking hell. You’re killing him.

“Fuck…c’mere” his hand faces you towards him, lips immediately magnetise. Giving Gojo a chance to taste both you and him. Hungrily devouring you, not giving you a bit of control as his tongue rolls, leading you whilst moaning. Gojo sucks In a breath feeling your soft walls pulsate and squeeze his girth, his lips hung on yours. Letting out pleasured breaths as he finally moves his hips again, nicely…slowly…gliding his length up into your drenched hole. His name rolls off your tongue barely above a whisper, Gojo lazily kisses you as his mind is now elsewhere, gradually increasing his speed now that both his hands held onto your hips. A yelp slips your tongue feeling his swollen tip hit your cervix. The creamy mess of your cum reaching both ears, evidence of your unceasing sex. Whatever words Gojo grunts out falling into deaf ears, a feeling of rapture throughout out your body. Your vision blurry due to a well up of tears, eyes glued to the ceiling, mouth remaining parted as rhythmic moans are beat out your throat every time Gojo’s hips bounced you upwards.

“Your pussy’s so goood [Name]” Groaning, Gojo spouts out whatever comes into his mind. Big hands squeezing the flesh of your hips whilst he enjoys your cunt socked on him. “Feels so- so good baby- fuck” he grunts eyes catching the motion of his length disappearing into your pussy, a white ring of cum developed around his base. A reminder of your previous rounds, and yet he couldn’t get enough.

Seeing your head hung over his shoulder, tits bouncing, tears streaming….He wants more, he needs to make his wife feel just how fucking amazing she is to him.

GETOU

One thing about Getou is his acts of service, that's his love language. He'd help you with your hair, help with cooking despite being horrible at it. Anything he feels would burden you he'd do it.

Despite his act of service, you love returning the favour - one thing between you two is you self care days. Getou only doing it because of you. You'd help him out with his long silky hair, massaging his scalp, oiling his face. all sorts.

"Is it nice" you whisper softly, smiling as you watch him relax into you. His eyes remain closed as he hums, enjoying the feeling of your fingers scratching his scalp. You chuckle, reaching to get a serum for his face, whilst applying it you lean over to place a peck onto is lips. Getou’s purple eyes fluttering open to be met with the face of his beautiful wife, a fond smile spreads across his face as he watches the softness in your expression as you scrub his scalp. You’re always so gentle and pulpous with him. Just like he his with you.

He reaches his hand to take yours in, you let him although caught off guard. His lips meet your skin, a gentle kiss from him on your hand.

One thing you both love are drives, it didn't matter the destination or if there even is a destination. You both found amusement in having long drives either in comforting silence or with music. And during all that Getou's hands dont leave yours, interlocking your fingers in silence no matter how sweaty it gets he doesn't let go. Unless you stop for a snack.

Whenever your clothes go missing/ get damaged. Getou doesn't hesitate in replacing them. One day a bra or shirt of yours would be gone and the next day it'll be there right where you left it all brand new. Even if when you point out something you like, it'll be in your possession the next day.

Speaking of clothes getting damaged or lost. The reason being?. Your husband. Despite his cool demeanor and being your husband, Getou is a pervert for you. Stealing your clothes, enjoying their scent as he fucks himself using them. Just to make up for when you're not there.

You had gone out to meet your best friend because of an alleged emergency. And now Getou is left alone with his thoughts.

1 hour later, he finds himself watching a show to pass time. Frequently checking his phone to see if you’ve messaged him or called. But nothing. It doesn’t help when the last thing you said to him was hinting at something, something he knew very well what to be.

‘I have some things I wanna try out with you…’

Those words ring in his head and his mind goes into the gutter. Immediately thinking of the videos he came across on your laptop. You’ve both never done that before. Maybe?….

2 hours later, fuck… he groans into his hands. Unable to focus on the show. His dick was aching…throbbing for a release he can’t bear to resist any longer.

10 minutes past, and Getou finds himself digging through your dirty laundry. Eyes laying on that one lace panty he loves on you. He doesn’t waste time pulling the band of his sweats down to set himself free, tip angry and leaking with precum. Veins popping as if he was gonna explode. His mouth goes agape, letting out sharp breaths once he brings the piece of cloth to his nose. His free hand rubs his inflated tip whilst deeply inhaling the musky scent of your cunt.

“Fuck…Baby.” He gasps, eyes rolling as he begins to stroke his cock. Imagining your flooded hole welcoming him in. Desperately pumping him. “Sssshit [name]” he amps up speed, bringing the lace down to wrap around himself. He needs you. He needs so bad and you’re not here.

“[Name], [Name], [Name]— fuck ah—”

It’s not enough. He needs more, he’ll never cum this way. His hips buck into his hand in attempt to gain more friction, to replicate your gummy walls bouncing up and down him. Milking him. Emptying his balls till he’s all dried up.

“Yes baby…shit— ah- ah-”

His hand moves at an alarming speed, his release is right there. Within reach. A few more pants and strokes before he’s finally done, ropes of cum covering your laced panty, Getou hunching over as the release hits him hard. He groans, letting out a few breaths before looking at the mess he made.

All that mess and he’s still hard.

5 minutes pass.

“I need you- I need you-” Getou’s humping your pillow like a dog, rolling his hips into the soft cushion head thrown back at the frictions. “Ohhh fuck, fuck.” already chasing his third orgasm, his tip sensitive and red from the action. Pillow soaked with his cum and sweat running down his torso. Your lace panty lays on the floor all stained with his seed, Getou payed it no mind. Telling himself he’d get rid of it later and buy you a new one tomorrow. Now a new pillow too. Your name chants from his lips multiple times, your face appearing to him every time he closes his eyes.

He just. Couldn’t. Get. Enough.

He wants his dick to be squeezed, drenched, overstimulated to his limit. Your moans, his name leaving your soft lips in a scream. Everything about you makes his thrusts harder. Sweet moans leave his lips, as he goes harder. His mind filled with your every being, voice, touch.

“Suguru”

“Agh…fuck…yes baby” Your voice sounded so real, Getou could only throb at the sound.

“What’re you doing?” Sounded too real, his head snaps to your doorway. Seeing you stood eyes wide as you watch your husband hump your pillow shamelessly. Even then he doesn’t stop, eyes locked on yours feeling not only his heart but his cock best at the sight of you. He should stop, he should stop. He repeats in his head, but his body refuses, the pure sight of you bringing him closer to a finish.

“[Name]” he grunts, face red and hair stuck to his skin. “I need you…please- please-” begging you, his voice cracks, the sounds going straight to your already wet core. And of course, you couldn’t deny it.

NANAMI

One thing about Nanami is his consideration. No matter the situation he’s always have you first in mind. After work he’d always stop by the convenience store to buy you your favourite snacks. Now you have a whole cupboard full of it.

Compared to him, you have much more energy than he does. So every time he’d try his best to entertain your interests since it makes you happy.

Just like Gojo - he praises you every chance he gets.

“Awww kento what’s this” you pick up the stunning dress from the bed, admiring the way it shimmers under the light.

Nanami watches you with a small smile, your eyes sparkling just like the dress “It reminded me of you” he mumbles just enough for you to hear before your throwing your arms around him “Thank you so much. I love it.” You place a long kiss on his cheek, his arms wrap around your waist staring into your eyes as he spoke. “Why don’t you try it on? Since you like it so much let’s show it off” your brows perk up in shock. But then again, you should be used to this.

An hour later you’re coming out the bedroom all dressed up. The light in Nanami’s eyes glows once he lays them on you. What a beauty you are…

“I don’t know what I did in my life to deserve you” He speaks without thinking, reaching his hand out for you to take. “Oh stop it” you wave your hand, giggling like a Highschool girl receiving a compliment from her crush for the first time.

“I’m only stating the truth my love”.

Speaking of showing off. Nanami would never waste a chance to take you out, bringing you to restaurants, making sure you have your fill. Overall showing off his beautiful wife to let the world know how much of a lucky man he is to be graced with such a woman.

Working overtime is a habit Nanami can’t seem to get over. And because of that days or even weeks go by without you guys having that intimate time together. And Nanami, of course, always manages to make it up you.

“This is the least I can do. And no, you can’t return the favour” He speaks sternly, lifting you off the floor - hooking a hand underneath your knees and another around your torso.

“But you’ve been working. A lot. May I add and I’ll feel bad Kento” you argue as he places you on top of the massage bed. He plants a kiss onto your head, walking towards a cabinet “take your robe off”.

You watch him, annoyed by his disagreement. But oblige, a massage isn’t something you can easily pass on. And by your husband? You know it’ll be the best massage of your life. You lay face first on the bed, shuffling so you could get comfortable. You felt slightly chilly since Nanami suggested you go completely naked. But you have no complaints since it’s him.

“You ready?” He checks, his voice coming from your right.

“Mhmm”

Once you said that you felt a cool liquid dripping onto your back. The temperature sending shivers throughout your whole body. Your eyes close feeling his hands rub your back, spreading the oil whilst applying pressure.

“Relax for me [Name]” He spoke so calmly, so softly, it could put you to sleep. And on command you did. Relaxing just as your husband instructs, letting out hums of satisfaction whenever he hits the right spots. “Does it feel good?”. Fuck, his voice. That smooth, deep voice that you love so much. You’re trying so hard to ignore it, to not think so inappropriately about this innocent session.

“Yeah…you’re really good at this hun” you add, feeling his hands right above your rear, circles around your lower back. When he hits a specific spot you moan. “Right there Kento” you hiss as he goes back to area again, circling it until you’re satisfied “S’that good?” He inquires, making sure he’s done enough. And you nod, enjoying the tension being released.

Once he’s done with your back, he moves down to your legs, massive hands rubbing intently. Lathering them with oil. Doing to them what he did with your back.

You feel his hand move upward, now kneading your ass which caught you off guard. But you’re not complaining, rather, you giggle “Saving the best for last?” You imply, hearing Nanami sigh as he continues massaging.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction of my answer” You could hear the smile in his tone. But you don’t push on, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your body.

“Give me a sec”

Once he’s done, you hear his footsteps receding. Coming back after a few seconds later but he doesn’t do anything other stand there.

“Kento? What’re you doi— Ah!—” your husband causes you gasp as his fingers run through your folds with a cold oil. “K-Kento” your eyes expand, letting out a pleasured yelp as you hand springs to grip the massage bed. His fingers stuff you up so well, your insides already writhing. Turning you to mush as your husband's fingers slither deeper within you - the oil making it easier but also acting as an enhancement to your pleasure. What the fuck? you've felt good before but right now... you felt elated. And your moans only grew more intense as he went on.

“Judging from your reaction I made the right choice buying this oil.” He comments, fingers dragging in and out from your sopping cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel heat pool at your core, his fingers fucked you so good it’s almost embarrassing how they could bring you to this state.

“It’s only the two of us here my love. No need to restrain yourself” And with those words, a stimulation to your clit had you yelping. “Kento!”.

“Yes?”

Nanami is answered with a mewl, your body writhes beneath him. Legs springing up as a result of the overwhelming pleasure. Every once of your body felt hot. You felt goosebumps by your lower back where your husband’s hand laid whilst the other digs into your pussy, bringing you closer to climax.

“Too…ah…too much…” you barely manage to get your words out, constantly falling back into that world of pleasure. Mind solely focused on how your husband’s fingers glide against your sensitive walls, how they rub against clit. Oh…you were so close…and it didn’t go unnoticed by Nanami, he felt your cunt clench around his digits. And with that your husband increases his speed, your body tenses. Legs stretching, and hands clenching as you were on the edge of climax.

Before you knew it. Flashes blind your vision as you came. Soaking your husband’s fingers with your juices.

Nanami gives you a chance to catch your breath, soothing you with a hand massaging your back. But he doesn’t let it prolong for too long since he still had to move into the second part of this massage session.

✦ Finally back on my grind.

[grugruel]

Your daddy know 'bout this?

(Don't be fooled, there's no daddy kink!)

Pairings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: A few days short of your 21st birthday, you decide to celebrate with your friend at the local bar. Unbeknownst to you, a close friend of your dad's is there.

When he sees you with beer in hand and in the lap of another man, things get heated. Somehow, you end up in his shirt, at his house.

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: pinv sex, passionate sex, forbidden realationship, violence, blood, underaged drinking, slight angst, cum eating, I love yous', mentions of masturation, tension, arguments, slight jealousy and protectiveness, pet names (girl, woman, ma'am, princess, sweetheart)

AN: not yet proofread, might be rough around the edges! Enjoy girlies🥹🫶

It was his one free night in a long time, and his buds pulled him along for a drink. He had no real objections, for he was in a good mood and it'd get even better once he had a drink in him.

The group of men emerged from the damp, rainy night and dove into the smoke tainted air and usual bustle of the local dive. They ordered their drinks and made their way to the back where the booths were, a jumble of familiar faces greeting them on their way. Until-

Bucky saw a face he ought not to see in a place like this. "Excuse me a moment, fellas. I got somethin' to take care of."

Their group turned to him, confused. "Wha-" and looked in the direction he was already headed. "Well shit, good thing her daddy ain't come with us." The group shared a few nervous glances, then shrugged and chuckled. "Wouldn't want to be one of those boys right now."

-

"Well . . . " a voice chuckled loudly.

She could see the source approaching their table from her peripheral, his form vaguely illuminated by soft lamp light through the gloom. " . . . Aint this a sight?"

She knew that voice, she could hear the telltale grin that shaped it.

Catching onto the change in energy, the giggles and boisterous laughter of their small group died down. Tense glances exchanged between them, all eventually landing on the intruder, all except her own.

Commotion continued sounding around them, their table the only to emit an unusually low amount of noise. "Anyone wanna tell me whats goin' on here?" The voice asked.

Swallowing, she realised she'd been intently staring into a cadleflame. She belived that maybe she'd have a chance at going unnoticed if she sat still enough.

"I asked you a question, doll."

She winced. That was his nickname for her. Fuck. She tore her gaze from the candle, snapping it to her friend across the table and gave her a sidelong glance that meant 'trouble' to which her friend nodded in agreement.

The low light that made the place cosy just moments before now only existed to muddle her thoughts. But, it could work in her favour. She carefully pushed her drink behind her elbow, hoping it wasn't too late to hide, and her friend followed her lead.

She turned toward the man, a cheap grin plaster on her face. "Hey . . . Buck," she spoke slowly, as if it'd somehow make him more agreeable.

"Hey there, princess," he grinned. Hat on his head. "Wanna explain this to me?" Pointing lazily to their gathering.

She shrugged, attempting to act nonchalant. Because admitting your wrong would confirm it's wrong. "Nothin special, we were just leavin', in fact."

A scoff blew past her ear. "The hell we are." The lap she sat on stiffened beneath her, tapping his feet–once, twice–in a show of impatience, and rocking her body in the process. The man then whispered in her ear. "Who is this guy anyway?"

She inclined her head, nervous eyes avoiding the big cowboy that stood imposing at the end of their table, and murmured a quiet reply over her shoulder. "No one. . . in particular." A lie, of course. "Let's just go."

The cowboy chuckled. "You're not leavin' with him, you're leavin' with me." That drawl could make the most steeled stumaches jittery with butterflies. Her friend must've felt it too by they way she squirmed in her seat.

She had to screw her eyes shut in a moment of contemplation. Why'd he have to be here tonight? Why'd they have to go to a bar he frequented?

She looked back at her friend with panic in her eyes. Boy, were they in for it. She could think of nothing else then to simply ask nicely, hoping it'd appeal. "Please, just go."

He smirked, putting a hand on his hips and showing a stern but playful disposition. "Your daddy know 'bout this?" He tipped his hat in their direction.

She pinned him with her eyes, narrowing them with independent annoyance. "Im my own woman, B-"

'What's it to you?' The guy beneath cut her off.

Bucky switched his attention to the guy, and she could feel him shrink a little under Bucky's gaze. "Hell, no need for that tone! I was just sittin' with my buds over there." He pointed to the group of men Buck came with, no doubt to put some pressure on the poor guy. From the looks of it, they'd been listening in on our conversation, and now waved to her, idly laughing at the situation, ready to jump in at any moment.

She shyly waved back, a tight smile on her lips.

"See, I just saw your little group havin' a grand ol' time over here and wanted to join you," Bucky laughed. "And when I noticed that fine woman in your lap, I thought I'd have a chat with her." He disguised it well, but she could hear the anger beneath his humoured exterior.

"You two know each other?" The guy asked, I'll at ease.

"Well enough." Bucky took a moment to look her over, a scan for any harm. But his eyes stuck on the short skirt and thin shirt. If possible, he looked even more bothered. "Wouldn't you say, sweetheart?" He glanced at her, and she could see the danger that lurked in his eyes. It began to dawn on her more and more how knee deep in trouble she was.

She cleared her throat, a nervous blush creeping up her cheeks. "Mhm," she hummed. It felt like he could see through her.

The guy's hand slunk to the bare skin of her thigh, attempting to mark his territory when seamingly he'd decided his dislike of the situation. "Huh, what's with the hat anyway, you some kind of sheriff?" He asked. But cut Bucky off as he was about to answer. "Either way," he waved his hand dismissively. "She's fine where she is. She can make her own decisions." And just like that, he'd successfully stolen the point she'd been trying to make.

She shook her head. Stupid, stupid boy.

Bucky's face hardened, any sign of humour gone from him. "I assure you, I dont need a sheriff's badge to take her home, It's within my right." He braced his hand against the table, leaning closer to them.

Her uterus roiled at that. 'take her home'

"Now, get that hand off of her, boy." He snarled, annoyance and authority resounding in his voice, promising a solution to the mans cocky demeanor. "She ain't yours to touch."

"Why?" The guy asked. "She yours?" His hand slid higher, squeezing her thigh, challenging the much broader man.

She exhaled, releasing a frustrated hum in early defeat, he'd doomed them both.

The cowboys jaw tensed. Silently, but undoubtedly steaming, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and pushed them above his elbows. The veins on his forearms pop from strain, knuckles turning white from his fists clenching. "Fella. . ." He began, calming his composure, then pointed two loose fingers at the girl in the mans lap. "Had she been mine, you'd be on the floor already. Now, that girl, ain't of drinkin' age, neither is she to be touched by a slimy bastard like yourself."

Fuck, so he did see the drink. She shook her head again, warning him. "Bucky. . ." A very bad attempt at dissuading him from doing whatever he was about to do. She could almosy feel the guy beneath her sink into the booth they were sitting in. Perhaps he had some sense after all.

Her friend grabbed her arm, loosely yanking on it as her anxious eyes flickered between the men in conflict. She herself sitting in the lap of the guy's friend, who was preparing to step in if necessary. "We should go before this gets ugly," her friend whispered.

"Respectfully, ma'am, she ain't going nowhere without me." The cowboy opposed, directing his attention to her friend.

No, no, no no. . . Dread filled her, he'd drive her straight home to her parents.

Bucky's eyes fell back on the guy, now shrunken and small under his gaze. "So. . . Stand up, 'n leave, boy," he spoke with the authority of a sheriff but stood with the confidence of an outlaw. "There's no need for altercations, I was enjoyin' my night. N' I don't wish that to change-"

"I'll call on the bouncer," the guy shot out, his face probably as pale as his overly white and fragile shirt, pointing to a man behind the cowboy. Her eyes followed the steps down from the seating area, and through the dimly lit dive where a big man stood posted by the door. The guy beneath her then glanced at his friend across from them, both extending curt nods to one another.

She wanted to wretch, he was acting a coward and standing up to Bucky with the threat of enlisting two other men to his side. She sighed loudly, making a point for him to hear as she eyed her friend. "Well, I sure know how to pick em'." And her friend, inspite of the commotion they found themselves in, covered her mouth in snicker.

Bucky narrowed his eyes in a second of silent fury, then answered with a laugh, not missing a beat. "You mean that bouncer?" He asked and turned around, calling a greeting to the bouncer, who in turn tipped his hat with a smile. The type of gesture that indicated a longstanding friendship. "We're well aquainted," Bucky grinned. "But im sure he'd love to sort this situation out."

If they had any sense at all, the two men would leave with what little dignity they had left and realise that they were already outnumbered inspite of being 2 to 2.

"Leave, girls," the guy easily dismissed them.

She gave him a pointed look, flashed her eyebrows, and jerked her head to the side in a 'you had it coming' motion, and then grabbed her friend's hand.

"Asshole," she sighed and steered them out of the booth, taking the cider in her other hand. Silly as she was, she thought she could simply leave, perhaps just slip by Bucky. But no, his strong hand grabbed her bicep as she passed by, and set his blues deep into her own. "Wait by the truck, I'll drive ya' home." He said, looking between the two girls.

"Fine . . . " She sighed.

"N' dont even think of running, cause I'll catch ya'," he warned, and she rolled her eyes inspite of the burning that settled in her core.

She tried to yank herself free, but he didn't let go. "What? You wanna hear a 'yes sir'?" She dared the words, teasing, as nervousity built in her gut.

His eyes searched hers, a slow grin spreading over his lips as he leaned closer, bending down to whisper in hear ear. "Dont get cocky with me, girl." And his hand began sliding downward, making her shiver, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch.

She swallowed, that tone, the hat? God. Her uterus purred, and in a sudden surge on confidence, she answered. "No, sir."

He grabbed the glass bottle from her hand and grinned, taking a sip. "Good, girl. Now go." And pointed to the door.

Would it be wrong to say she started salivating? His words, together with his lips making contact with the same surface she had? There was something about it, something that made her . . . Pulse.

Bucky whistled and his friend–the bouncer–came bounding up the steps, him along with the group of dad's and bucky's friends only a few steps behind.

The bouncer tipped his hat to her and her friend in passing, a smirk on his lips. Nice to know there was still some gentlemen in the world.

She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He was quite handsome too.

"Dont even think 'bout it," Bucky warned.

She rolled her eyes, and then they were finally on their way out, meeting Bucky's group of friends on the way, all nodding and greeting her. "Tell your daddy we missed him tonight." One said, and they all chuckled.

The girls hurried off, giggling. But anxiety lingered in the depths of her chest. Those men were rogue witnesses in all of this.

As she held the door open, voices raised behind them. She could see the crowd turning to look in Buckys direction, anf she herself followed their gazes. And found them just in time to see Bucky's knuckles collide with the jaw of the guy she'd spent her night on, sending him sprawling.

-

Plunging into the deep night, the cold swept over them. "He's hot, ain't he?"

She didn't want to answer, or simply didn't want to admit it and just gave her friend a look of understanding.

"God, I was ready to pounce on him the second he called me ma'am."

The girl understood that too.

-

After about ten minutes wait, Bucky emerged from the bar. Unscathed, apart form bloody knuckles and dark cloud around his head. Before even saying a thing, he'd already removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I only got one of them. Apologies, ma'am," he told her friend and opened the truck door for them both. "The truck'll warm you up."

"Thats ok, thank you," her friend answered, and the girls shared a knowing look. Their thoughts connecting in fiendish collectivity.

"Alright, get in. We'd better get goin'."

-

The ride was relatively quiet. We knew better than to anger him further. Anxiety was growing within her, though, she didnt wanna know what would happen when her friend was let off.

"Text me ok? I'll se ya' later." Her friend said, eyeing Bucky. She leaned her head through the open window of the truck. "But- let me know how that goes," she whispered. "And good luck." She raised her eyebrows with a smirk on her lips.

The girl rolled her yes. "Sure will." And with one last wave, they were off.

-

When there were only the two of them, they could say whatever they wanted with confidence. But so far, there'd only been a few sighs and breaths of shared irritation. Neither of them were particularly pleased with the situation.

But she wanted to be the first to speak. "I'll be 21 in a few days, Buck."

"Doesn't mean you have good judgement."

She bristled. "I'm not a little girl anymore!"

" 'Course not, I can tell by the way you dress. That what a grown woman look like to you?" He nodded to her body, barely covered apart from his thick jacket over her torso.

She pulled it closer around herself. "Like what exactly? What do I look like to you? A slut, a hooker?" Her face stung from embaressment. She felt like a child again, being berated for something she wasn't able to puzzle together by herself.

He clicked his tongue, jerking his head to the side. His patience was running thin. "Dont twist my words, doll. I'm callin you careless."

"That dont matter comin' from you, you're not my daddy." She knew the comment would get a rise out of him, because she knew he'd ment no ill intent, and she knew he cared for her. But she was mad, and so was he.

"No, n' you should thank fucking god he wasn't there to bust you. I was the better option, I can promise you that."

She exhaled a frustrated breath, turning her attention toward the windshield. Watching droplets of water paving their way over the condensation covered glass. "You weren't the only one to bust me, though, were you?" She spoke lowly, feeling like a coward for even asking. "The boys gonna say something?"

He gripped the steering wheel harder, his roughed up knuckles tearing. "I told em' I'd take care of it." It must've stung, but he took no notice. Other things pestered his mind.

Worry mixed in with all other emotions as her gaze drifted to his hands, and her mind immidetly moved into recovery mode. "So what's that mean, you gonna tattle on me now?"

He looked over at her, brows furrowed right beneath the rim of his hat. He couldnt begin to understand her. "That all you care about?"

"Right now? Well, yeah. I dont want a scolding."

"All grown and still daddy's little girl, worried about his opinions."

"And if I say yes, what then, girl?

"I dunno, m' gonna have to convince you not to."

"Like you convinced that guy to buy you beer, huh? What'd you do, flirt with him? Give him a handjob, suck him off? What did I miss before catching you?"

Her mouth hung open in disbelief. "You fucking asshole!" She shook from anger, she never expected words like that to be thrown at her. Especially not by him. But she'd get him back, there was no reason behind her actions now. "Maybe I would've, I even bet it would've worked if I'd asked you. Right? You would've just loved having your friends pretty daughter gettin' you off, huh!" She half shouted the last sentence, her chest heaving with effort and fury.

"That's enough." His tone was unforgiving, shooting a sense of reality back into her.

"I'll shut up if you answer the god damned question Buck, would it have worked?"

But Bucky didn't answer, his jaw clenched and unclenched, biting back his words. If she thought the silence had been bad before? It was deafening now.

After calming down again, her words hit her like a freight train. She always had a friend in Buck, but now she wasn't sure. The words that'd been thrown back and forth had set them off balance, their entire relationship was on unsteady ground. Something had been rewritten in the rules between them.

There'd always been attraction, but that wasn't something they ever spoke of. They'd always been close, good friends even. But now, something had changed. And it made her feel sick. She'd had an ally in him, but now, she wasn't so certain.

After a long whole of shutting her mouth out of stubbornness, the fate of her father finding out was worse, so she broke. "Please don't bring me home, Buck. Dad'll throw a fit." She tried to smile, to soften her voice. But it felt wrong.

After a moments uncertainty on her part, and strained breathing on his, he spoke. "Im not makin' the detour, you can sleep at mine, that was always the plan anyway." He admitted, sounding utterly tired.

And now she felt extremely guilty, eyes studying him as he gripped the steering wheel harder. Her gaze drifted over his body, his face, his hands. Stopping on the roughed up and bloody knuckles. He'd beaten that guy for her. Out of jealousy, or simply because he was protective?

She turned away, her chest feeling hollow and followed the birches and sprucetress as they flashed by the truck. Their colors and textures blending together as they met the dark consistent sky above them.

Bucky's house was dark, he only lit a few tablelamps when they arrived. It was better that way, she recognized herself here, within the gloom and the safety of his home. It was second to her own.

"I'll get your something more comfortable," he said, his eyes avoiding her clothes, her body as a whole and disappeared into his bedroom.

Was it because he thought they didn't fit her, or the opposite? Had he been mad at himself for being attracted to her?

She nodded slowly, calling out to him, "we should do something about that hand of yours."

"It's fine, I'm fine." He said, re-emerging, meeting her eyes. "Here," he handed here a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, most likely too big for her. "I'll take the couch, n' you can take my bed."

She nodded again, and headed into the bathroom.

Buckys t-shirt was longer on her than the skirt she'd worn, so she opted out of the shorts. Luckily findig a roll of gauze in the bathroom cabinet.

She emerged from the bathroom, a pair of panties and the oversized t-shirt the only things on her body. "You want something to-" Bucky paused as she rounded the corner, and suddenly she herself stopped short–caught off guard.

Bucky stared at her, and whatever he'd been about to say was lost the second he looked up. Bucky cleared his throat, and with the weight of a 15 year long friendship on his shoulders, his eyes stayed glued to hers.

Inwardly, she smiled and hoped the lowly lit livingroom couldn't reveal the blush on her cheeks. "Found some gauze," she held the roll up, indirectly asking for permission to bandage him.

He opened his mouth to decline, she could even see his head begin to shake in dismissal.

But she cut in before he had the chance. "Just let me help, you can be mad and still let me help."

His eyes hardened, but hesitantly, he nodded all the same. "Im fine, doll."

She raised her brows with skepticism and made her way toward him, the fabric of buckys shirt doing its best at showcasing her breats.

Bucky clenched his fist in an attempt to control himself, he winced, the wounds on his knuckles re-opening.

"Yeah," she scoffed. "Sure seems fine to me." And placed herself infront of him. From his position on the couch, he had to look up at her. At that, a flicker of heat blazed in her core. Oh, those eyes. His big, pleading eyes, all sad and hurt. Did he want her gone or want her in some other way?

She kneeled, settling between his thighs and grabbed his hand. "You don't got to be so stubborn all the time. . . Just wanna help you." She wrapped his hand carefully, enjoying every second of his corse skin over hers. Once done, he tried flexing his hand, and winced again. He still hurt, that much was clear, but was too proud to admit it. "Want me to kiss it better?" She joked, hoping it would lighten the mood. But he did that thing again, where he said nothing, and instead clenched his jaw, as if holding back a yes. So she took her chance.

Keeping their eyes locked, she brought his wrapped knuckles to her lips, and kissed them through the bandage once, then moving further up to kiss the softer skin of the back of his hand. Again, his eyes were pleading, and he moved the hand to cup her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. She took it as encouragement and kissed his palm, his wrist, his forearm. She stood up on her knees, kissing his bicep and reached for his shirt to pull him closer. She cupped his face and brought him inches from her own, nuzzling her nose against his.

Finally, when her lips reached for his, he pulled away. "Stop, stop," he nudged his forehead against hers. "We can't," he moved his lips away, cheek to cheek, he kissed the soft spot in front of her ear. "We can't."

"Cant, or wont?" She asked dully.

Those pleading eyes were back, begging her not to make him answer that question. She nodded absentmindedly, pulled into her thoughts. She stood up and moved away from him, his hand sliding down her arm and locking around her wrist, stopping her. "Dont leave."

"I'm comin' back."

After a few minutes of bustling in the kitchen, she returned to him. Sidling up next to him on the couch, her curled up legs lulling into his lap as she handed him a whiskey glass, then cradled her own. He whispered a thank you, looking into her eyes, and she whispered a you're welcome, looking into his. Then they sat like that for a while, quiet, unmoving. Bucky's hands finding their home on her legs, glas in one hand and her knee in the other. Somehow, this wasn't crossing a line for them, this was their normal, this was something not even her family questioned, this was them.

"Im sorry, doll." he said finally. "I never meant to imply-"

"It's ok, Buck." He opened his mouth to speak again, but she stopped him. "Really, It's fine. I'd rather not dwell on it."

Another moments silence passed between them, it was uncomfortable, but the unsaid lingered in the air like a thick wall between them, and hung over them with the threat of smothering. "We need to talk about us."

"I didn't like the way he was touchin' you," he said, choosing the topic before she had a chance at it. If he had to approach them, he would do it indirectly. "It didn't look like you were enjoyin' it."

Her eyebrows raised, "You would've punched him even if I were enjoying it." She commented sourley.

He squeezed her knee, gently rubbing circles into the skin beside. "He acted like he owned you," He turned his unscathed hand upside down, brushing his knuckles up and down her sensitive skin.

It all went straight to her head, veins throbbed with heat she didn't know she could feel. All brought out by a single touch of his hand.

But she wouldn't let off. "And what do you 'spouse beating him for it is?"

He stayed silent, his hand turned again, this time to grab her soft flesh, squeezing it with purpose. Much like the guy had done, but this felt different. This felt good, real good.

She swallowed, closing her eyes to focus on the words she needed to say. "What made you think you had the right? If not that I already belonged to–" she stopped, and their eyes met in a quick glance.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "I was only protectin' you." He defended, but it didn't quite sound like he believed the words himself. Nor did she. But if he wasn't ready to see it as it was, she wouldn't pressure him.

Instead, she laid her head on his shoulder. "It shouldn't be this hard."

He shook his head, the words seemingly struck a cord within him. For he sat insilence, pondering, a long while. "I would've said no, you know. And it would've killed me." She looked at him strangely, forgetting what he was referring to for a moment. "I would've said yes, if you hadn't felt forced to it, like it was a last resort to keep your secret."

Oh. . . "Had I wanted it, you'd said yes?" She stared unbelieving into the dark space infront of them.

"Nothin' could stand in my way." He slid his hand further up her thigh, fingers exploring the skin just beneath the hem of his/her shirt.

She sat up straight to look at him properly, she couldn't tell if he was serious. "You want me?"

"More than anything," his voice was breathless, barely a whisper. His index and long finger reaching further up, exploring more than he'd ever dared. "Cant even explain how many times I imagined you gettin' me off after you said it. How much I hated the thought, the sight of you with that guy, his hands all on you."

A pang of need shot through her. She put her whiskey down, and braced her hands against his chest. "But why tell me now, whats changed? Whats changed in this last hour?" His fingers rubbed the skin of her hips beneath her panties, sending shivers running over her body, shivers she'd only previously dreamed he'd be the cause of.

"You're right, it shouldn't be this hard. I'm makin' it too hard." His hand slid to her waist, still invisible to him, but no longer untouchable. Magnetically, they were pulled together, faces inching closer and closer to oneanother.

"And what about daddy?" It was becoming hard to focus, she wouldn't stop him for the world. Bow, they were close enough to feel the dampness of their breaths.

His hand continued exploring farthur up, fingertips finally reaching the soft, plush flesh below her breast. "Your daddy ain't here, is he?"

She began shaking her head in disbelief, lips brushing against eachother. "Dont promise something if you can't follow through."

His hand stopped, "I can, please," he begged, waiting for her go-ahead. "I can. . ."

His words vibrated against her skin, electrifying her body. "Fuck," she moaned, he's right there. Right, there, infront of her, for her. "Then do, please do, Buck."

And just like that, both hands were beneath her shirt, pulling her into his lips and squeezing her breasts.

Breathless moans filled the silent air, they tore at eachother greedily. Pulling and pushing eachothers bodies, fighting to get Bucky free of his clothes.

Snaking one arm behind her back, he guided her down onto cushions and placed himself above her. Still clothed by jeans, he rolled his hips against her core, grinding the rough fabric against her barely clothed clit. This, is what she had been craving. The exact static friction, the heat and movement between their bodies producing all the pleasure she needed. She moaned heavily, beacause still, she wanted more. Pulling her legs up and her panties off, she wordlessly signaled for him to do the rest.

With a groan, Bucky dove into her neck, kissing and sucking, all the while he unzipped his jeans and pulled them off together with his boxers. No time was wasted, he lined his member up with her core within a second, prodding and teasing at the opening. "Please, please, please." She sounded desperate, but fuck, she was. And feeling it was worse then sounding it.

"Yes ma'am." He said, and thrusted into her. A gasp escaped them in unisome. With the arm still around her waist, he pulled her into his hips, his body straining as he delved deeper inside her than she thought possible.

"Yes. . ." She whined. "More."

He kissed his way up her throat, their hips freed and collided into eachother with steady, strong thrusts, pushing her deeper into the cushions with every rut. Nothing could compare, he was unparalleled. Bucky, despite what he was already achieving, kissed his way up her neck, unfaltering in his duty.

Her hands found his face, cupping it and bringing him back to her, and their lips met again. "Taste so sweet," he murmured, sinking his tongue into her. The salt of her skin mixing with her saliva. "Want all of you."

She smiled against him. "Harder."

He did as ordered, keeping his pace and adding pressure. "Yeah," he moaned. "Being so good for me, girl." And pulled her deeper onto his member. Her breaths grew rapid and shallow, fingers clawing at his back as she had nowhere to go, all pleasure directed straight into her. "Close, so fucking close," she cried.

"Good," he chuckled breathely against her skin, and that was a she needed. Her back arched in euphoria, and stars stung her eyelids, speckling the darkness. "Good job, sweetheart. Just breathe," he continued thrusting into her, softly, easing her through the orgasm. "Good girl. Well done. . ." He whispered, kissing her jaw. The stars began fading and she regained her senses, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Beautiful, girl." He moaned, still rutting into her, chasing his own high while wiping the tears from her face. Her body began tingling, on the vege of breaking down.

"Dont know how much more I can take, Buck." She kissed his cheek, focusing on the skill of his lips.

"Almost there, almost. . ." he moaned, increasing his pace. The slickness of her core created a sickening sound together with the slapping of their skin. It was heavenly, but she could feel the pressure building within her again.

"Mmmh, m' gonna cum again, please buck, dont stop."

He didn't, he continued, intent on coming together with her. He bit into her lip, causing her to yelp and yield the hold on his face and licked a trail down her chest and breast, then taking it into his mouth. Sucking and slurping in an insane rythm with the slapping. "Yes, yes! Fuck, Bucky." she called out, and Bucky pulled out of her.

Coming only a second after, his seed spilling over her abdomen. "I love you, I love you." He moaned with faltering breaths, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of her, kissing every part of skin that he could reach.

Holy shit? "I love you too." She smiled lazily, drunk off of her two consequent orgasms. Laying her hand on her stumache, she felt his sticky substance coat her fingers.

His eyebrows knit together in guilt. "Sorry 'bout that sweetheart, I'll get a towel-"

She grabbed his bicep and shook her head, locking her eyes onto his as she brought the fingers to her lips and licked them off, popping them in her mouth to suck them clean.

Bucky stared, unable to form words.

"Cat got your tongue, cowboy?" She asked, a coy smile on her glistenting lips.

"Fuck," he awed breathlessly. "I just love you." He whispered, lowering himself onto her once again, this time striking his tongue into her core.

-

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

tbh.. what do you think 141 smells like? i'm going to list smells of what i think they smell like..

• soap smells like gasoline. idk why, but he smells of that nice gas you pour into your car. (idk how to explain it. but the smell of gasoline is nice..)

• gaz smells like oranges, a fresh orange that's perfectly picked.. or mangos. i can see him smelling like either.

• people say soap smells like your ordinary 3 in 1 shampoo dude but i think it's ghost. i mean, soap has his hair all prettily done but ghost? smells like 3 in 1. i've never smelt a bottle like that, but it smells.. fresh. a bit minty even.

• price smells like.. a rainforest. like a heavy woody smell. i'm not sure why, but he definitely smells like that. like a rainy forest, with wet moss on the ground.

anyways those are my thoughts!! :)

I actually answered an ask about their scents a while back!

But I just wanna say that I wanna add to that and, hijacking your own hc a little bit...

What I think...

The 141 Boys' scents in an A/B/O AU:

Johnny smells like the sea. It's fresh and soothing, but discreet, very much so. You wouldn't expect it, much less feel it, unless you're searching for it. Salt water, seaweed... that kind of thing.

Kyle smells like something warm and cosy and gooey that melts in your mouth. My brain is saying honey or honeycomb, caramel or toffee maybe?.

Simon smells strong. Way too strong. He'd definitely be the type to need to wear scent blockers. He smells like burning, a campfire, a forest fire, maybe gasoline or sulphur.

John smells like a forest, rain forest sure, but I could also see him smell of pine and very obviously so. Sometimes pine sap smells close to mint, so people would def make that mistake, until they smell a pine tree around Christmas and realize John smells like it.

[piratefishmama]

Finders Givers | Part 1

“—But maybe someday when my ship comes iiiin~ She’ll understand what kinda guy I’ve been, an then I’ll win”

“Chrriiiisss!!” Eddie whined as he tossed himself onto his front, burrowing his head under the pillow

“And when she’s waaalkin, she’s loookin, so FI-I-IIIINE!!”

“CHRIS!!” It was no use, she couldn’t hear him. Too busy belting out Billy Joel in their little kitchenette at… he shoved his pillow aside, realising it was a fruitless endeavour to try and block out the dying cat that was his roommate.

They’d gotten in at just gone two in the morning after blowing the very last of their ‘rainy day’ fund on ten for two dollar shots at a local student haunt, and now it was… ten in the morning, they didn’t have jobs left to get ready for, he still hadn't been able to find his wallet anywhere.

And Chrissy was. Singing.

As if they didn’t have to start job hunting again or risk the fury that was their greasy landlord and his mission to extort them of all their hard earned money. They’d be out on their asses by months end if they didn’t find something soon and the band wasn’t raking in as much cash as he’d have liked for it to be raking in.

Last he heard some big shot was looking to buy the Hideout too, probably shut them down for good. That’d be just their luck.

“An when she’s TAAALKIN she’ll say that she’s MI-I-IIINEE!” He threw his covers off, accepting defeat. At least it smelled like eggs and bacon, so she was clearly cooking the last of their breakfast foods.

Chrissy was of course in her sleep shirt, legs bare, with naught but slipper socks to keep her toes cosy on the tile floors of their kitchenette, swaying to the vinyl player belting out Billy Joel by the open window. Many a man’s fantasy come true, Chrissy was a vision while lost in her favourite music, but to him, Eddie Munson resident flaming homosexual, okay she was still beautiful he had eyes, but those leggy legs and swaying hips didn’t do it for him, thanks. “CHRISS!!”

And she jumped, barely managing to save the bacon from winding up as a sacrifice to the dastardly floor gods. Whipping around to face him, she graced him with the signature Chrissy ‘sunshine smile’ which… didn’t track for the killer hangover she ought to have had given she had three rounds of those shots all in that tiny-ass body of hers.

“Eddieee!!”

“Chrisssyyyy, what’cha doin, Chriss?”

“Breakfast! And Billy Joel!”

“I see that, at… ten in the morning, after student night!” They weren’t students, Chriss could pass for one though “Whaaat’s going on?”

“Letter! The letter, on the top there, read it!” And she was turning her back again hips swaying, moving the foods over to two plates, the only two they currently had clean, oof, it was his turn on dishes, damn what he wouldn’t give for a dishwasher.

Curiosity piqued, he crossed the short distance (it wasn’t a large apartment) and plucked up the neatly tri-folded piece of paper, letterheaded with a real fancy SH logo, a business address and corporate phone number, the letter reading,

“Dear Tenant” he didn’t do inner voices, he had to read it out loud “This is to inform you that as of the week commencing June 12th the building will be under… under new… new ownership?!” He looked up, eyes wide with alarm.

“Keep reading!!” She prompted as if predicting his alarm, she wasn’t even looking at him, clearly jazzed about something, new ownership? The building had been sold from under them and she was happy? He looked back at the paper.

“At this time, we will be… suspending… suspending?” She nodded, turning with two plates in her hand to their tiny little table that Wayne had donated when they moved in “suspending your required rent payments as we… look toward renovating the building and all apartments within.”

“Keep reading, there’s more!” He sat down at his usual chair, paper held in both hands, eyes fixed to the print as he read.

“Any rent arrears accrued in the duration of the building renovations will be… hold up—”

“Yep.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, not joking, it’s official I called them this morning, took me ages to get through to someone but it’s legit, Eddie.”

“But—but shit like this—this doesn’t happen Chriss, and you know what the Police said that one time you got scammed, right? If it seems too good—” he was still looking at that word, that one little word that made all the difference.

“Then it’s probably too good to be true! I know, I know, but I got the confirmation from their office, I GOOGLED the number too, I didn’t just call the one on the letter cause I know scams can get’cha that way.” Although what kind of scam it could be was baffling as it wasn’t asking for money it was saying they wouldn’t be asking for money for a while “sobered my ass right up let me tell you, best hangover cure in the world, and Mrs Jablonski next door got one too! And Dottie across the hall, I’m pretty sure I heard upstairs yelling earlier, an I mean like happy yelling, not yelling yelling like usual. Cheering! I think it’s legit, Eddie…”

“So… we just… we don’t have to pay rent, at all… for however the fuck long these renovations take to happen? Do we have an expected completion date to these renovations? Or start date?”

“Nope, just a from week commencing, the lady on the phone had no idea about them but she got the confirmation from ‘upstairs’ and just said there’d be more information sent to us eventually and not to worry about it.”

“Not to worry—not to worry about it?” He wanted to worry about it, every fibre of his being demanded he worry about it. Not that they could even pay rent if it was asked for, they had no money and no jobs after he’d decked their line manager for calling Chrissy fat, she was not fat, and she’d only just stopped staring at herself in the mirror as if every inch of her was wrong. She’d passed the month mark since she‘d last forced herself to throw up. She was finally getting some plump back into her cheeks.

She was on the mend. She was recovering. And he’d just—Eddie had seen red. He just wished he’d have been wearing his rings at the time.

“You can call them if you want!” She spoke around a mouthful of sunny side up eggs. “I think whatever it was, was a really random decision high up, like… it wasn’t something decided upon by a board of directors or anything because she took a while to get confirmation about it, but—but I dunno Eddie, maybe… maybe things can be good for a while.” They wouldn’t have to panic about getting jobs.

Wouldn’t have to deal with grease trap Carl the guy who collected their rent every month who seemed to just… always be greasy. Hands, hair, face, clothes. Who’d look at Chrissy like she was a piece of meat, or make disgusting comments about how lucky Eddie was to live with her, while she was stood right there holding Eddie’s arm back stopping him from launching at the guy.

Wayne had offered to run the guy over one time “Would be a one an done, son, would catch him at just the right time as he left the place an be gone just as fast, wouldn’t even know I was there.” Like a grade A parent, with all the gold stars available at the local craft store. But Eddie could deal with Carl.

They wouldn’t have to anymore though. If this was legit, it meant Carl was gone. No more Carl.

“…Screw calling them, I think we should go down there and see what’s up.”

“M’kay, but eat your damn breakfast that’s the last of the maple bacon an you got the bigger piece.” If he immediately traded the bigger piece on his plate for the smaller one on hers, well… she only smiled over it, she liked the maple kind more than him anyway.

Or so he'd told her.

Part 3

[lilystyles]

watermelon sugar, highhhh.

part two of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note part two baby, enjoy! i hope you all like it i'm still a bit iffy about it! gif creds to original owner. BTW THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE FIRST PART OF THIS SERIES KISSES TO U ALL I APPRECIATE ALL THE REBLOGS AND LIKES XX (i can't believe the amount of likes fr!)

brief description basically why harry wrote watermelon sugar high, in my head at least anyway. ;)))

warnings! mentions of sex and sexual themes, smut! (f! receiving, fingering) drug abuse (reader doesn't participate), and swearing. around 5k words :)

inexperienced!virgin!reader x high!fwb!harry

* * * * *

It had been a few weeks since she last saw Harry. She had been avoiding the whole situation completely. If someone asked her she’d deny avoiding him. But whenever she shut her eyes all she saw was him, those green eyes. So he wasn’t forgotten.

Y/n was absolutely ruined that evening. After her long day of lectures, she was so overwhelmed this week and was not feeling her best. She felt like giving up and taking a nap. She had only just gotten home from uni and it was dark outside, she felt like she hadn’t stopped all week. So she was thankful it was a Friday because she didn’t know what she’d do if she had to get up tomorrow morning. She decided to take a long shower and wash the day off her skin and warm up. It had been a long cold and rainy day. She just wanted to get cosy and relax. Get out of this bra, these clothes.

When she got out of the shower smelling fresh and feeling warm, she decided to order Italian for dinner from the local place near her and have a quiet night in, she couldn’t be bothered to cook. 

The group had invited her out tonight but she was so tired she couldn’t be bothered. Anyway, Harry was going and she wasn’t ready to face him just yet. Things had been different ever since New Year’s. She felt different around him, and she didn’t know what that would mean for their friendship. She valued it so much and was worried she’d ruined it. She didn’t know what to do.

She called up the Italian place for dinner while scrolling through Netflix. She sighed, sadly. She felt so stupid right now.

She ordered enough food to fill up her rumbling stomach and pressed play on an all-time favourite comfort movie of hers. Notting Hill. God, she loved Hugh Grant. Harry used to make fun of how much she would watch this when they were roommates and honestly he wasn’t wrong. She watched it more than the average person, but was that such a crime?

She had gotten about a third of the way into the film when her phone buzzed on the table. She rarely got texts anymore, especially considering she only really talked to Daisy by text. She just called everyone else. She was expecting a drunk selfie from Daisy saying how sad she was sad that Y/n wasn’t there. But it wasn’t her.

NO CALLER ID

Y/n why didn’t you come out tonight? I miss you.

She was confused about who it could be. It had to be one of her mates. But seriously she had all their numbers. So who was this?

who is this?

The text was read instantly. Then three dots. Y/n’s heart weirdly began to race.

NO CALLER ID

It’s H. 

Obviously.

Who else are you texting at this hour, missy???

She giggled. He must be drunk, he was always like this when he was drunk. Even though she had been avoiding him; he was like a breath of fresh air. She had missed him. She now realised in the two years he had been away from her she had missed him, too much to let him go.

u drunk haz?

bc u sound drunk.

The text was again read instantly.

NO CALLER ID

I’m not drunk! How dare you!1!!!1

i don’t believe you harold.

NO CALLER ID

:((((((

Y/nnnnnnnnnn

why you sad?

NO CALLER ID

I want you.

what does that mean H?

Read. Then suddenly the replies stopped. Y/n felt stupid all over again but after ten minutes of checking, she put her phone down and tried to focus on the film. She was kind of worried though, was he okay? 

Thoughts of him disappeared as the food arrived. 

She ate slowly and sluggishly while Notting Hill continued to play. It was now up to the bit where naked photos of her had just been realised and she came rushing to Hugh Grant’s aid. She liked this part, it was so intimate and romantic. 

Her tiredness got the best of her though, her full belly and the warmth that her fireplace gave her sent her right off to dreamland. Notting Hill continued to play while she curled up under her old knitted blanket. Soft snores escaped her mouth as the fire crackled.

When she woke up it was probably around two am. She was startled and in the dark, Notting Hill was over, the fire had turned to coals, and the rain had turned to thunder. There was a banging at the door. She thought in her fuzzy mind it might be Daisy or even Miss Jones from next door who was an old lady that always thought Y/n was being loud. She sighed walking over to the door and opening it. Rubbing her eyes. Preparing for either a drunk best mate or an angry old woman.

It was neither of the people she expected. Sleep was still with her, eyes squinted and sore, and her voice was gravelly and quiet when she spoke. 

“Harry?”

He was smirking, of course, dimples and all. Eyes all hooded and sultry, he looked edible like this.

His hair was wet but his clothes were dry except for the tops of his shoulders. He was in a 70s ensemble. This orangey red shaded v-neck jumper was on his chest, some dark wash vintage flares on his legs, and some old white boots. His eyes were red and he was obviously under the influence. Of what? Well, she’d soon find out.

“Can I come in?” He asked. She nodded stepping out of the way. Even though things were different the love for him was still there, she’d have let him in her door no matter what, and she would always be at his beck and call. That’s what scared her. 

“Cute shorts.” He said touching her hip, Y/n blushed up at him. 

They were these old bunny print ones that were too small but she refused to throw them out. She was wearing the bunny slippers that matched too and some shirt that she actually thinks was Harry’s back from when they were roommates. It was navy and so worn it had faded.

He stepped inside. She could smell the potent scent of weed and his cologne. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve ‘ad some spliffs tonight. But I wanted to see you regardless. This just sorta’ happened, y’know how James and I get when we are together.”

Y/n did know. The number of times she’d have to help him get to bed way back when.

“Haz darling, I’m going to go home,” Y/n said softly. He was sat on the couch, high as a kite. 

“What? Why?” He sat up now. Hand reaching hers. 

She smiled. “Not really in the mood tonight, Haz. That’s okay though. Stay, have fun with James. Be safe, yeah?”

He stood up, all wobbly. She helped him steady himself. “Don’t go. Please?”

He got really affectionate and soft when he was high. She’d noticed that. Drunk Harry was all loud laughs and chaos. This scintillating star. High Harry was mellow and touchy. Like a teddy bear.

“‘M tired though, H.”

He grabbed his coat from the couch. “Then I’ll come too.”

She sighed pouting softly. “Not trying to ruin your fun, I know how you and James are.”

“You aren’t. Promise. Take me home please.” He said grabbing her hand. She smiled up at him. 

“Okay.”

“I love you, you know.” He said resting his head on her hair. “Y’one of m’best friends.”

“I love you too, Harry. Always.”

“Okay.” She said softly and he followed her to the couch, which was still warm from her sleeping body.

He put a hand on her thigh it was warm and soft to his touch, and he stroked it to calm them both. There was a nervous energy in the room, which was rare for them. It had always been calm and tranquil when they were together.

“Sorry for waking y’up.” He said, genuinely seeming apologetic.

“It’s alright, Haz. What’s up?” She had a feeling about what he’d say next.

He sighed. “I know we said we’d forget it, but I can’t. I really can’t.”

“It was supposed to be no strings attached…” Y/n said quietly. Because she thought that’s what he wanted.

He looked over. “I know. That’s why I came here.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked down at his hands nervously. “I wanted to talk to you about the whole one-night-only thing.”

“Go on….” She turned her body to face him, eyes glued to his handsome face.

“I want to be with you like that again. I want more than just that night Y/n. It's driving me mad. I want you so fucking bad.” He said waiting for a response, nervous.

She could tell he was high, but she could also tell he was telling the truth. He didn’t tend to lie when he was high. “Like friends with benefits?”

“Yeah sure….only if you want to though. I got the impression that you regretted the other night, but if there’s even the slightest chance you might want this. I need to know. If you don’t, well, at least I’ll know. It’s the not knowing that’s making me crazy, Love.”

She put her hand on top of his giving it a squeeze. “I don’t regret it, H. How could I regret you? I just- I don’t know how I’m supposed to be around you now.”

He laughed a short laugh leaning into her side. “Just be yourself Y/n.”

“Easier said than done.”

He just shook his head at her. 

“It’s a deal.”

Harry’s head snapped over, eyes wide and heart pounding so loud he could hear it in his ears. “What?”

She laughed, throwing her head back. “I want to. I really do, but you know we can’t do anything tonight, right?”

His smile quickly turned into a big pout. Hair falling over his eyes. “What? Why?”

“You are unbelievably high. Look at those pupils!” She jested hands resting on his cheeks as she looked into his eyes. There was hardly any green left in them.

“They always get like that when I’m with you.” He leaned closer to show her them. The green had been swallowed by black, his long eyelashes fluttering. His eyelids had gone all swollen from smoking. 

She rolled her eyes at him pushing his head gently away. “Shut up. You really are terribly charming. It’s annoying Harold, you know that?”

“Why’s that?” He smiled hands rubbing her thighs. Her soft plump skin was soothing to play with. His hands were calloused but still soft against her.

“I feel like one of your fangirls. Seriously. Speaking of which, we better keep this a secret shouldn’t we?” She put her legs to rest on his lap. His hand stroked her shin gently, relaxing into the couch. He leaned back against the couch, feeling calm.

He cocked his head. “Why?”

“You’re a rockstar. I’m just some random from Holmes Chapel. I reckon your fans will go crazy.”

He frowned. “They know who you are already but just for our privacy, I think so. It’s hard being under the spotlight. I don’t want your privacy taken from you just because of me. People who I’m seeing or any girl really get a lot of hate, I don’t want that to happen to you.”

She nodded, letting silence fill the space.

“Can I eat you out now?” He said abruptly. 

She laughed in shock her face turning bright red as she laughed loudly. “No.”

He pouted like a little kid throwing a tantrum. “I just wanna taste you.”

He knew how to get her all riled up. She hated it, he really was good at everything he did. Proving all previous fantasies to be correct.

“Harry, we can’t. It’d be taking advantage.” She replied, knowing she wanted him more than anything right now.

“Of who? Me? It doesn’t matter how sober, drunk, or high I am Y/n ’m still gonna’ want to eat yeh' out so bad.”

She laughed shyly getting up. She had never been so openly wanted, he made her feel sexy. It was a strange feeling because her whole life she had been told she was anything but. Especially because she'd gone this long being a virgin. “Let’s just sleep. Maybe when your sober, okay?”

He pouted again, grabbing her extended hand as she helped him find her room. His arms wrapped around her shoulders across her chest as he followed, feet heavy on the rug.

Her bedroom was chilly when they stepped inside. He clung to her for a moment his nose brushing against her neck, lips grazing her skin. “S’cold in here.”

“Yeah.” She replied, feeling goosebumps arise. She didn’t know if it was the cold or Harry who made her feel that way. 

He began to take off his clothes until he was just in boxers she was gonna offer him some clothes but he didn’t seem to care about being naked near her.

She stared at the art that was his body. She hadn’t had much chance to ogle him when they were together last. She noticed the new tattoos, itching to touch them, and ask about them but she refrained.

The tanned skin and rippling muscles, the whisps of hair on his chest, the snail trail on his navel. He was just fucking gorgeous.

“You're staring.” He said. She chose to ignore him, which only made him laugh at her.

She lifted the blankets for him. They were different sheets from last time. These were pink and Harry recognised them from when they were roommates. 

“In you get.”

He jumped in childishly and she joined him. 

Her window was slightly ajar so they could hear the rain bucketing down, it was loud but peaceful. He curled into her back. His hand slid onto her stomach underneath her shirt as he pressed her closer to him, soaking up her warmth.

“G’night, love.”

“Night Harry. Sweet dreams.” She replied.

He kissed her neck. “Trust me, they will be very sweet.” 

Harry was an early riser, he always had been. He loved the mornings. Even when they were roommates and he’d been out partying he’d still get up earlier than Y/n. She on the other hand hated mornings, she always got so grumpy and if he could he avoided waking her up at all costs. 

Even after his late night yesterday, he was still the first up of them both. It was around half past six, and the rain was still heavy and coming down. He sighed peacefully, Y/n was still curled up at his side soft breaths escaping her mouth. She looked so peaceful in his arms.

They’d barely moved all night, the last thing he remembered was her by his side tracing his tattoos with her fingers. Her leg was thrown over his hips and her arms were still clinging to his body. He could stay like this forever. He was kind of foggy after last night, he’d forgotten he’d come all the way over here, but it was a pleasant surprise to have her there next to him.

She moved quite a bit in her sleep, he’d always known that about her. She began to squirm a bit shifting her hips against his side, thigh rubbing over his boxers. “Mm.” She groaned, and he watched her to see if she was awake. But nothing. 

She kept wriggling against him, and against his own will, he felt his boxers grow tighter. He sighed, holding in a laugh at the thought of last night. It’s honestly the only thing that had been on his mind for days, which probably made him sound like a horny old bastard, but he’d never felt like that before except with Y/n. All she’d done was give him a blowjob and he’d had enough of those to know how it goes.

He’d even started a song about this feeling. It was in the works, but he had to laugh at himself. It was about the female orgasm. Or as he called it “the sweetness in life.” He really couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the idea once again. 

His tongue, her. How perfect would it be? Like art being made.

He felt her start to make more noise beside him, pulling him out of his filthy thoughts. 

“H?” She whispered groggily, voice hoarse. 

He looked down. “Hi, petal.”

She rumbled a groan, stretching her arms out her shirt riding up revealing her tummy. “What time is it?” He reminded her of a cat, all stretched out like that.

“I dunno, early though. Probably sixish.” He replied, hand rubbing her back. “How’d you sleep?”

“I can’t focus on what you just said when your dicks hard sticking into me,” She teased, “Can you start again?”

He laughed cheeks going a bit pink. “Sorry, I would’ve moved you but you are not the happiest in the mornings, I wanted to keep my head from being bitten off.”

She rolled her eyes ignoring that comment. “How long have you been awake?”

“A little while.” His eyes hadn’t moved off her face the entire time. 

“How’d you sleep?”

He pulled her closer, one hand on her lower back and the other on her thigh. She could really feel him now. It made this whole thing seem real. This was the first time they’d been like this when they were sober. Her confidence felt smaller and weaker. The tequila was what gave her the courage to get with him in the first place. 

“Perfectly.”

She just nodded trying not to focus on his achingly hard cock sticking into her. The feel of him already had her giddy. “Good. Can I make you a tea or coffee? You hungry?”

She was about to get up but he grabbed her. “‘M ravenous,”

She innocently started to list off what she had for food in her flat. “Well I have some toast, I can make pancakes, and I have cheerios—”

“You’re so cute, Y/n.”

She cocked her head. “Uh- Thanks?”

He kissed her hairline, “I haven’t forgotten our conversation from last night. Have you?”

She blushed, finally realising what he was insinuating. “No. How could I forget that?”

“Can I kiss you?”

She nodded, moving her face close to his, and their noses brushed softly.

As he leaned forward she could feel his warm breath on her face. He pecked her lips softly at first pulling back to kiss her nose too, then one of her rosy cheeks. Before finally placing his lips on hers firmer this time. It was deep and slow, with no urgency in it. He wanted to take his time and enjoy waking up with such an opportunity in front of him. 

He wanted her like this every morning. 

Y/n knew she’d never had a boyfriend let alone a friends-with-benefits before this. The most she’d done is kiss a few dates or strangers in a bar. But for some reason, she felt this was rather intimate for two people who claimed to be just friends who have just sex.

What drew the line between friends who are fucking and people dating? Is the fact they slept together and cuddled up all night something more than friends do? Or is it all part of this whole deal they had, did that just come with it? She had no idea, and she wondered if Harry was like this with everyone he slept with casually. She had to admit sometimes she got sad when she saw how he made everyone feel special. It made her feel just like any other girl he’d been with. When he was far from anything she’d ever experienced and honestly she’d probably compare every other boy to him after this.

That’s what scared her. 

And then of course she thought that if she wasn’t so inexperienced maybe she’d be calmer about the whole casual thing. But Y/n didn’t do casual. She was all or nothing. But if Harry wanted casual she’d do it. She’d do more for him than she cared to admit.

The kiss grew fierier and that felt more like the first time they were together — it was all tongues and teeth. He began to roll on top of her, pressing his hard cock against her and her yearning for him grew even stronger. She honestly thought herself pathetic for how wet he made her, they’d done practically nothing and already her heart was beating fast, her chest heaving against his.

His hands slid up under her shirt massaging her tits gently, as he began to kiss her neck. The hickey he’d left last had faded now which gave him the motivation to do another and who was she to tell him no? Her hands were in his hair massaging him as she sighed contently. Letting out moans every few seconds from the pleasure his touch brought.

How did he already know her body so well? It was like he could read her mind. And yet every move he made seemed so effortless. 

“Take it off.” Y/n sighed gesturing to her shirt. Harry didn’t need to be told twice, he ripped it off and throwing somewhere neither cared to look as his mouth roamed along the peaks of her tits, nipples suddenly hard. Her back arched up to his hot, wet mouth.

His tongue swiped along them and Y/n whined needily, her hands now on his shoulders as her hips bucked up. He sucked just below one of them, leaving a mark Y/n knew she’d touch whenever she thought of him after this. His hands were on her waist fiddling with the waistband of her very small shorts. He kissed down her stomach and on her hip tattoo. 

“When’d ya’ get this lil’ number?” He asked, moving the shorts to reveal a small yet noticeable tattoo. It was a little moth kind of similar to the one on Harry but smaller. 

“I got it with Daisy on a whim one night. I actually used you as inspiration. I didn’t know what else to get. I’ve always loved your tattoos.”

His heart swelled and he kissed it. “It’s sexy.” She smiled, face all pink, eyes soft. 

“Can I touch you, Harry?”

He shook his head and she frowned confused. “Why not?”

“Because I want this to be about you.” He replied. 

She pouted at him reaching for his hand. 

“Don’t give me that, be good f’me and let me make y’feel good Petal.” He said tapping it away.

“Okay, I’ll be good.”

He said. “Atta girl.” 

She felt her stomach twist in want. “You can take those off too.”

So he did. He had an inkling she hadn’t any undies under there and his theory was proven correct. 

“Sorry I didn’t shave, I didn’t know this would happen.” He looked up at her, his fingertips gliding up her inner thigh. 

“Don’t be silly, Y/n.”

Harry constantly raised her standards every second. 

“Don’t boys get repulsed by hair?” She asked. 

He laughed staring right at her dripping hole, his eyes looked hungry, lips slightly parted. “Yeah exactly, boys. Not real men. I firmly believe men who care don’t actually like pussy. I love pussy, what’s a little hair anyway?”

“I guess m’ just nervous, H.” She replied, looking away. 

He stopped, hands freezing. “D’ya want me to stop?”

Her hands moved from her stomach to his cheeks, stubble grazing her hands. “No,” She said faster than she had wanted to, which actually made him smirk. “I just- What if I do it wrong?”

“How can you do anything wrong? You just have to let me take care of you. Relax, Love. It’s just me.”

“Just Harry,” She confirmed and he kissed her thigh. She felt the stubble graze her and felt her pussy throb deeply. She was yearning for him. 

“Tell me if y’want me to stop, okay?” 

She nodded. “I will.”

He lifted her legs up placing them on his muscular shoulders, pulling her close by her hips. Every single touch and movement of his was teasing and getting her so worked up she was about ready to beg him for it. His breath was making her squirm against his face when he finally decided to kiss her puffy clit which was swollen in arousal. She was taken back to New Year’s when she kissed the tip of his throbbing dick. All pink and slick.

She let out a heavy breath shutting her eyes. One of his hands found hers and she held it, stroking her thumb over his knuckles in encouragement because she was worried her voice would be too shaky. Without further hesitation, his warm tongue lapped up all the wetness dripping down her pretty pussy. 

She whimpered. Was it supposed to feel this good?

He started to suck on her clit, lapping it up over and over. The noise of what he was doing to her was pure filth. Her hand was in his hair tugging at it as she cried out. She tried to stop her hips from squirming but it felt so good. 

“Fuck, Harry.” She said letting out a shakey breath when his tongue started licking her wet hole. 

She gave his hair a particular rough tug and he grunted against her. The vibrations made her whine.

She felt his free hand move against her pussy fingertips tracing up his spit and her slick. Before he began to tease her some more. The tip of his middle finger slid in ever so slightly, her hips leaning into the touch before he pulled away again. He was still harshly sucking her clit, and Y/n couldn’t help but whimper. 

“Harry, please.”

He looked up at her from his position. His eyes met hers as he greedily lapped her up. His finger went in slightly further reaching halfway before he pulled away again. She threw her head back in defeat. He wanted her to beg. 

“Please, H. I want you so bad.” She said, shutting her eyes. 

She felt him pull back for a brief second. “These kinds of things can’t be rushed, Babe.”

She sighed, he was taking his time with her, enjoying every sound that came from her swollen lips. The noise of her slick, dripping pussy against his mouth. The sweet tangy taste of her. Those hands of hers that ran through his hair and tugged when he did something particularly good. He was going to make sure she was satisfied.

He went straight back to it. This time his finger went all the way, knuckle deep, as he grazed that spot that made her scream. He heard her whisper, “Fucking hell.”

He pulled his finger out again. His tongue and lips still working hard against her puffy sensitive clit. She couldn’t contain her moans. They turned on Harry so much that every few seconds he found himself humping against the bed for some relief. 

Her hips bucked up, her thighs squeezing his head unintentionally. He made her so riled up she could barely control her body. Her legs were already shaking from the pleasure. 

When his finger slipped in the next time it stayed. She sighed contently as he began to thrust against her walls that tightened around him every few seconds. His rhythm wasn’t fast or sloppy it was slow but hard. A steady rhythm. They curled inside her and each time he hit that spongey spot and sucked her clit just right her eyes rolled back in her head. 

“Harry,” She begin to chant like a mantra over and over which only egged him on more and more.

She could feel her stomach begin to tighten, and her hands came up to play with her tits. Kneading them and pinching her nipples. The wave of her orgasm snuck up on her, her back arching and her hands finding Harry’s free hand on her thigh to squeeze in a warning.

“Fuck! I’m cumming!” She cried out. 

Harry felt her clench like a vice on his fingers as she got wetter and wetter. He felt it drip down his wrist as she whimpered. Her thighs clenched against his wrist as she writhed uncontrollably beneath him. His tongue and finger didn’t stop though. He looked up through hooded eyes at her gorgeous face. 

Her hair was fanned out above her head, tossed back, mouth agape in an o shape, and her cheeks were all flushed and pink. Her eyes rolled back as she screamed out. “Ah! Fuck!”

When she started to come down from the peak of her orgasm Harry continued helping her ride it out. She thought he would stop, she was so whimpery and sensitive.

“Got another one in ya’?” He asked, looking up. 

“Maybe.”

That was enough for him to keep going. He slipped another finger inside her, he started speeding up now. 

“Look at you, so good f’me.” He said, his voice all gravelly.

She whimpered pathetically, squirming. Already feeling a building in her stomach.

“All spread out, ruined, taking me like a good girl. Such a good girl.” Y/n clenched against his fingers at that comment.

“Jesus, Harry. You’ll be, ah, the death of me.” She replied. 

He just laughed at her. Starting to speed up his thrusts.

Y/n let her eyes flutter shut as she felt her second orgasm start to wash over her and she sighed. This time it felt even more intense than the first, her toes curled and her hands gripped the sheets. She felt a wild deep sensation inside her. “Oh, god. ‘M cumming.”

It washed through her entire body, pure pleasure overcoming her. When she opened her eyes she saw these black spots, her hearing stopped for a second and she let out a loud mewling carnal whimper. Harry was mesmerised by the sight in front of him. If he could he would do this all day.

When her body went limp he slowly pulled his fingers out and she suddenly felt so empty. 

“You okay?” He asked softly.

She opened her eyes, naked chest heaving. “Your…tongue…fuck.”

He giggled. 

“Kiss me, please.”

He placed a peck on her lips, brushing some hair from her face. 

“Thank you.” She whispered, fingers brushing his jaw. 

“No, thank you, Y/n. Been dyin’ to do that for weeks.”

thanks for reading! follow to see a part three! xx if you enjoyed this feel free to check out my masterlist here! xx feel free to request me too!

[prof-peach]

ADOPTABLES NOW LOOKING FOR A HOME £25 (British Pound) per mon, Paypal only, First come first serve, DM to proceed with a paypal email for the invoice should you be interested.

BULBASAUR ------------------------- SOLD ARON --------------------------------- SOLD SKITTYxGLAMEOW -----------------SOLD CACNEA ----------------------------- SOLD

(evolutions for tany adoptables are avaiable at additional costs should people want that. DM for information.)

------------------------------Bio's below-------------------------------

It is a rainy day on Dotaku, most shelter under awnings and sit watching the weather from cosy positions in cafes, frequenting the arcade by the docks, and wandering the greenhouses to dodge getting wet. You however have found your way out to a pitched marque with a handful of pokemon inside, one somewhat gloomy looking member of staff with them handing out treats. The staff member wears a zip up Dōtaku green jacket, only noticing you after a moment, a middle aged man with a rounded shape and kind eyes, one thick moustache hiding his top lip but yuo can tell he smiles.

"Come to make a new friend today? We''ve still got two trouble makers searching for the right match, maybe one would suit you. Would you like me to tell you a little about them?"

You nod, eyeing the four, two of which ocming more forward with looks of intruigue.

You're not unfamilair with bulbasaur, this one however looks very unusual, its bulb is no bulb at all, complexion far lighter, with the brightest eyes watching you. "This little lady was hatched right here on Dotaku, but she lacked what give bulbasaur their energy, not having been hatched with the seed that grows to be the typical heafty bulb on their backs. It wasnt an issue, happens from time to time, and so the Professor planted one within them, and put them in recovery. We had a freak power cut and the containment unit that had her in it was breached by Morelull spores. They took hold in the fresh surgery area,and when her bulb started to grow, it came out like this. Peach has checked her over a hundred times, and she shows no adverse issues other than being less tolerant of direct sun, and a little more active towards the end of the day and night time. She's jolly, sweet and curious, but quite young, so she can be a little naive about things. She shows a lot of talent with spore attacks, but struggles with more phyical moves. In time she may prove a very functional contest pokemon should she like that lifestyle." Moving along the line, more at the back chewing on a rather destroyed toy is an Aron with darker metal than normal, and more spikes than youre use to seeing.

"He was brought in with several dents, and substantial damage, this little bruiser despite being sick at the time was picking fights with things ten times his size. The dents were buffed out where possible, he shed chunks of his shell, and regrew in tough as ever with time. None of his damage was long lasting, and when asked wether he wished to return home, he decided travel was a better choice for him, seeing many visitors battling at the island inspired him I suppose. They do very well with steel tying and struggle with their usual rock moves, so we'd advise against pushing them down that route if they're not comfortable doing so. He has a fondness for Sour foods and likes a lot of pampering, though he may seem bashful about this at the start. Buffing their shell up so it shines will bring out a very pleasent disposition in this critter, so we advise you keep a cleaning set on hand for those days when its rainy or theres a lot of fights ahead. He mixes well with others, but can be a bully to weaker constitution mons, so keep an eye on them. We nicknamed him ‘Chunky' but he has no real affinity for the name, so feel free to discuss a pick a new one."

Next along, sitting directly in the centre of the table, so you couldnt possibly miss it, a curly tailed feline looking pokemon.

"This ones Belladonna, a real diva. Her old owner spoilt her rotten, and her behaviour got out of hand because of it. She's since been retrained and the naughty personality traits have been reeled in to a more managable level. She has become well behaved with other pokemon, socilising shouldn't be an issue now, she shows a great enjoyment of walks, but will not roughhouse, soexercise with her should be very heavily based around play and games more than battling. She loves a brush, loves to be doted on, and may weaponise her cute apperance, so dont let her get the better of you, clear systems and rules in place with reward when followed is key to her not taking full advantage of you. She has a good heart, just takes a little while for her to warm up to you."

The final one in the line is a cacnea that looks like its been stretched in a taffy puller, who sits with its little legs swinging off a crate.

"And finally that little man is perfectly healthy, happy, and otherwise well adjusted. He was brought in because someone thought there was something wrong with him, there isnt, he's just tall. His variant type has been seen working in tandem with ranchers in hotter climates to manage pokemon herds, their evolutions can see all around for a fair distance, and srve as rgeat guards, towering over their normal counterparts. He's got a real level head on him, and should grow to be a fantastic friend. He loves spicy foods, and tends to put others before himself alot, so make sure to give them dedicated time and space to maintain their health and happiness."

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

might i perhaps get #3 for captainswan? 🍂

Snuggle Weather

AO3

Summary: A ficlet about rain, tea, and cooler weather.

This prompt is from the Fall Drabble Prompts List.

Tagging others who might enjoy: @anmylica @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert

Emma could smell the cold in the air flowing through the open windows. An odd quirk she developed after she’d almost frozen to death all those years ago. She smiled as she thought about how far Elsa and her friendship had come since that unfortunate day. This year had passed far too quickly, and they hadn’t gotten to see much of one another. But the cooler air meant it was closer to the one visit that Elsa would never miss - Christmas Eve. They would get together to catch up over rich hot chocolate and the sugar cookies Killian insisted on baking each year. Before she left for Christmas at Anna’s, Elsa would leave the residents of Storybrooke a peaceful blanket of snow to greet them the next morning. 

Emma breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with crisp air, even as the warmth of the cosy nights in her future spread through her. 

Strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a form she knew as well as her own. She melted into the embrace, allowing the comfort he was offering to quiet her. He placed a quick kiss on her temple when she laid her head heavily on his shoulder. 

“Hi there.” Her voice was hardly more than a sigh released as his presence soothed her.

“Hey, love.” Killian’s murmured response rumbled through him - a light vibration against her back. He held her close and absent-mindedly swayed to the low tune he hummed. She closed her eyes and let the moment wrap around them. The cooler weather had a way of turning her fierce pirate into something soft and warm. The human equivalent of a weighted blanket. 

His words from their first winter came back to her: Neverland didn’t have autumn or winter. The cold reminds me. I am free. This is real. Not the dreams that haunt me and drag me into the past. This. 

You.

She’d kissed him, then. She had been unable to find words that could tell him that she understood. And, he’d held her close soaking in the acceptance and relief that she offered him. 

An odd chime went off, shattering the moment around them. Killian stopped his swaying, reached into his pocket, and shut off an alarm on his phone. “Tea’s done,” he explained. 

Emma let out a mostly playful groan as he carefully pulled away from her to tend to the tea. She followed him to the kitchen, where the smell of cinnamon and clove warmed her even further. “Hmmm, that smells heavenly.” 

“Something warm for the cold, rainy night ahead.” He removed the tea bag from her cup and poured a splash of milk into it before handing it to her. 

“The weatherman just said it wouldn’t rain for a week,” she informed him with all the innocence she could muster. And she smiled into the steam rising from her cup as he told her exactly what he thought of the trickster who spouted such obvious lies about the weather every day. His accent grew thicker as he informed her of all the ways he knew with absolute certainty it was going to rain. She bit her lips closed, capturing her smile, but her eyes were dancing with humour when he finally looked up at her. 

“Oh,” he stopped mid-sentence. “Funny, Swan.”

“Swan, is it?” Emma smiled wickedly at him. 

“It is poor form, Swan, teasing a sailor about his knowledge of the weather.” 

“I would never!” 

He raised his eyebrow in response.

When she didn’t offer an apology or any additional response, he sighed wearily and shook his head. “To think, I had just made you tea.”

“Really good tea,” she answered and took a sip from the mug warming her hands. She leaned against him, her shoulder pressing into his chest, and smiled at how easily she’d gotten him that time. He ran his left arm up and down her back in a gentle motion and sipped from his own mug. 

“I love you.” He offered the words up to her simply, a statement of fact. As though that silly exchange confirmed that truth for him again somehow. Emma looked up at him, trying to read in his impossibly blue eyes what he was thinking, trying to determine just how she’d captured and kept his wonderful heart hers for so long. 

“I know,” she said because, despite the improbability of it all, she did know it. “I love you, too,” she continued, but her words were drowned out by the sound of heavy raindrops that were now pouring down outside. 

“Emma, the windows!” He yelled over the noise filling the kitchen. He turned to close the one behind him, over the sink, and cold droplets hit her face, stirring her into action. She rushed to the other windows, cold water pelting her before she could close them. 

They fell into a panting heap onto the couch before the crackling fire once they got every window closed. 

“You were right.”

“I usually am.” He answered, raising his left up to offer her his side. 

Rolling her eyes at him, she curled into the proffered side. He rested his arm on her and idly smoothed her hair with his right hand. Warmed by the fire and his embrace, Emma drifted to sleep. 

-------------------------

@kazoosandfannypacks - I really, really hope you like it. I am not sure it is very autumn - it kind of got away from me... Anyway, I hope you it makes you smile.

[futureplayboibunnie]

‘Something to come home to.’

Dr Strange x fem! reader

- a long-ish smutty hurt comfort fic 4 u all. i kinda got inspired by those sultry neo noir characters in movies that have to patch each other up but there’s this cold pining connection between them. so yeah enjoy <33

It was barbaric. He was a fucking doctor, he studied multiple years for that diploma, a little sheet of paper proving he knows an abysmal amount on the human body yet he couldn't take care of himself whenever he was wounded but of course he would rather suffer in silence than ask for help. It only showed that Doctor Strange wasn't as unbreakable as he seemed, that stoic picture shattering every time he raggedly found himself not being able to defeat other worldly presences.

Stephen Strange was in over his head to say the least.

He could have used the special herbs that stayed cosy in Kamar Taj but he couldn't leave the Sanctum, someone needed to be stationed here. While everyone else was experiencing the greened valleys of Nepal, he was drowning in the dreary New York City air, rainy and darkened by the black of night- bloodied and bruised, sad eyes street lamp lit.

You were here too.

Stephen resented the way he couldn't ask for help, it made him feel weak and vulnerable in ways he couldn't possibly fathom. It was a case of classic narcissim, he'd grown bitterness everytime he couldn't defeat whoever he needed that day, it bruised his ever growing ego.

You were reading in the library to pass the time, so bored of the silent space in the Sanctum; Stephen just came back from being the hero as always, avenging the wronged and saving the universe from cosmic torment-avoiding you as always but you caught a glimpse of him, he was hiding his face and it was almost as if he was limping. You assumed he didn't need your help, you didn't need to question his durability. You quirked an eyebrow when he passed by, but you just let it slide.

A few hours passed and you were sure you could eat just about anything you were so hungry. You jolted up and left your book nestled on the antique as you padded barefoot on the laminate to find something to gnaw on. You walked down the hallway, non chalant in your movements when you passed Stephen's open door to his bedroom. He never left his door open.

You had to take another look, slowly inching back as your gaze lingered to him.

Jesus.

The moonlight shone a dark blue that covered the room, it was light enough to see him sat there, bloodied.

Stephen was sat at the edge of his bed, shirtless and littered in bruises and cuts covering his foehead with a bag of frozen peas or something similar to that. His grunted pains short as he reigned it all in with a sucked in breath. You noticed that his stitches were half done, cocking your head at the fact he clearly couldn't patch himself up but he attempted to anyway. The man was a fucking doctor. You were glad that he didn't notice you standing at his door frame.

‘’You really need to stop going out and getting yourself in messes like this.’’

Stephen looked up and saw you, standing there with arms crossed leaning against the frame of the door, so obviously judgemental in your stance but you clearly tried to hide it behind the soft eyes but your lips were thinned to a hard line, no humour playing at your features. You were wearing a really tight long sleeved shirt with a scoop neck, it was simple, cute- but it brought out your soft curves. Shit.

There was this weird heaviness that clouded you both for some reason, it was weird to trace let alone track. The relationship between you was cold and emotionally distant and normally resulted in avoiding each other. What was really jarring is that even with all of the radio silence, you trusted each other. It was a weird lingering sort of feeling, one you didn't know what to call.

‘’Very high expectation I don't think I'll be able to reach.’’ Stephen replied seriously, he didn't really know what to say. His inability to even acknowledge that he was hurt was making the air that much more confusing.

‘’You seem certain about it.’’ You squinted your eyes as you exhaled, almost in a way that meant you were psychoanalysing him. Both of your faces were hard with defense, although you trusted each other you still weren't completely comfortable.

You found yourself walking over to him, slow in your steps as a means to not startle him; his gaze followed up from your waist to your face with every step you took.

‘’You're a clumsy stitcher. You haven't even finished.’’ You were infront of him now, breath cooled in sardonic petulance as you stared intently at the wound that adorned the pane of his chest. Fuck was he ripped, his biceps alone could crush you.

Stephen's eyes were oceanic blue, slightly marred by flecks of green and in this light they seemed even more intense than usual, he would death stare just about anyone but with you he let it slide. He didn't know why.

‘’I don't need your pity.’’ He spat so obviously defensive, but he said it in a way that wasn't harsh or agressive, it was slighlty flatlined and monotone- authoritative.

‘’I'm not. You're still bleeding.’’ You frowned as you stared down at him.

Your hands immediately reached up to feel at the bruised area but he caught onto your wrist instinctly, , fingers slightly indenting your skin.

You tried to shake out of his hold with a glare but he held on tighter.

‘’I don't want your help.’’ He said intensely under his breath.

‘’You need my help, Stephen.’’ You got your arm back and met him in his taunting stare. You never said his name before and it was jarring to him.

You were right though, he was bloody and bruised and in an impossible amount of silent suffering. He despised asking for help and this wasn't an exception- but he really needed it now.

‘’You've never called me Stephen before.’’

‘’Relax, don't be a hardass.’’

He didn't respond, he just followed your movements as you sat down next to him, he moved his torso to face yours in an admission of defeat. You took the first aid kit that was next to him and grabbed the needle and thread and balling some cotton pads in your hand.

‘’You really need to stop going out at night Stephen.’’ You exhaled as you began stitching him up, you've never been this close to him before. You could smell the deep layers of his rich cologne, it was as heady as it was intoxicating.

‘’I don't have anything to come back to. I don't need to be worried about my whereabouts.’’ He said softly whilst boring into your soul with those vehement eyes of his, your gaze was fixed on his wounds but with every stitch he wasn't groaning out in pain, it was as if he was consumed by something else entirely that he couldn't physically think about the pain.

‘’Your bruises...Who did that to you?’’You cut the wire of the last stitch and took the ointment to cover over his vast blossoming bruises. Stephen found himself getting lost in the hushed tones of your voice.

‘’I don't want to talk about it.’’ He went cold again, this time it was more of a plead not an order. Your eyes softened as he turned his head to not look at you, since you had him like this and found him in such a vulnerable state he was worried that his lips would loosen.

You knew something was gnawing at his already warped mind, but this was like it was fracturing him. Stephen thought if he looked at you, he would bare his soul through his eyes, every fear, all the words he never said to you. You had the skill set to know he did something he shouldn't have, fed by guilt. His ambition was his weakness, his drive his downfall.

You rubbed the cotton pad with ointment down the right column of his abs were the bruise that was darkening. He had another one on his face and his eyes were still straying away from you; you grabbed the side of his face gently and made him look at you again.

Your face was so unreadable, welcoming and unwelcoming at the same time. and so unintentionally seductive. You swabbed away at the bruise and he felt more seen than ever. Silence fell through the already dense atmosphere.

‘’You're not a killer.’’ You whispered delicately, lips parted as you exhaled. Your eyes were a sea he could get lost in, he didn't need the shore. Your expression was hesitant, saying it as if it was a matter of fact statement- two strangers comforting each other.

‘’Thank you.’’

‘’Don’t mention it.’’

He caught your wrist and tugged you back into him.

‘’No. Thank you.’’

You blushed and smiled at the kind sentiment.

You immediately retracted your hands from him once you were finished, he was already feeling the warmth of you fading away as you went to stand up but before you could leave he grabbed your wrist once more.

‘’Stay.’’ Stephen's voice was meek and certain both at once. ‘’Don't leave.’’

You were frazzled at the admission of honesty, Stephen Strange wanting to talk to you seemed like a miracle, but him actually wanting your presence was otherworldly. Your exterior remained unphased though, as you resumed your prior position. You both sat with the silence for a little, the blue of night consuming the darkest corners of the room as you did so.

Stephen wasn't sure why it felt so right to want you right now.

Maybe it was because it was just you and him in the Sanctum.

Maybe it was because the downpour outside made it all the more perfect.

Maybe it was because he let you help him.

The relationship between you two was cold and emotionally distant, he wasn't sure why he thought that it was a manifestation of an unmet attraction, but it was.

You were stunning without even trying; this hardass nature you both seemed to inhibit was your comeuppance.

It was all so seductive, like a forbidden sort of need.

Stephen's minds was swirling with these thoughts before he felt the need to ultimately act on it.

He moved his torso to face you, large marred hands slowly reaching for the underside of your jaw. You shivered when his fingers touched your skin, your eyes fluttered and let out a small breath. The tips of Stephen's fingers went to brush your hair away from the side of your face and tuck it behind your ear before grabbing your jaw with his whole hand.

He jutted it to the side so you were staring at him, eyes meeting eyes in the most heinous of dazes. Intensity dialed up to a max. You let the moment settle before turning your body to completely face his. His lips were dangerously close to yours, sweet hot breath fanning against each others faces and the tips of noses lightly touching. The flutter of your curled lashes was only fanning the flame.

‘’You're still bleeding.’’ You stated deadpan.

‘’Let it bleed.’’

Your lips met his harshly, something about a hard brutal kiss was delighfully cathartic and freeing. Your eyes screwed shut when you opened your mouth for him to taste at, his hands tangled in your hair and pulled indelicately, his hold on you was anything but polite and it made you that much more aroused. He was hanging from your lips like honey on the vine, nectar of the Gods.

Your movements were over in quick hot flashes when you ultimately landed on his lap and nestled yourself between his impossibly beautiful thighs, his hands spent no time getting to the span of your back to feel your goosebump littered skin. The way you bit his bottom lip and tugged it back proved you needed to fucked by him: hard.

‘’Make me yours.’’ You ghosted against his lips. You hung your head back and looked at him wantonly in his enchanting eyes. ‘’Fuck me and make me yours. Take all of this...anger...out on me if you have to.’’

You didn't need to repeat yourself.

Stephen threw you on his bed as if you were his own personal rag doll, you gasp was too late to be registered when he was already between your thighs. Your breath was sweet and your eyes were filled with quiet desperation, his might was clear when he tore apart your top with his bare hands and discarded it to the other side of the room. His glare darkened when he pulled down your pants and underwear, the fabric quite literally ripped in his hands. You were about to melt for his neediness for you.

He'd had a violent evening, and all he wanted was to feel good with someone who wanted to share that violence with him. You were here, begging for him to take everything out on you- he'd hold you and stroke your hair after he was finished with making you feel so good tears were leaking down you face.

‘’I can take it.’’ You hushed agaisnt his skin. You were going feral for him already. ‘’I just want to feel you.’’

You were clinging onto him like ivy, the pain scarred on his body was incomparible for the pleasure he feels with you now. The testosterone he was feeling in his body was insurmountable- he needed to be inside you right now.

Your body was magnificent and he would worship it like a temple, you were a goddess for a lack of better words. Stephen's mouth found you neck and he kissed down the column of you neck to the valley of your tits. He was drunk through the scent of your arousal, so sweet and sugary, like honey off his tongue.

‘’Stephen, touch me.’’ You whined. He hung his head up to gawk at you.

‘’No. You touch yourself, baby.’’

You exhaled, eyebrows knitted in tense pleasure as he took your hand and dragged it down the length of your body until you reached home. Your fingers found your wetness and his thinned eyes watched intently as you began swiping at your pussy. Stephen hadn't felt this alive in so long.

The look of pleasure written on your face was beautiful and he wish he could have it framed on his desk. Stephen took your wrist and held it back up to your face.

‘’Suck for me.’’He grunted at you like an animal, you took your fingers in your mouth and tasted yourself. You saw shattered starlight in your peripheral with every swirl of your tongue, you let the digits go with a pop and Stephen's mouth hungrily met yours again. Your fingers tangled in his hair and he groaned into your mouth once you pulled at his dark roots.

‘’I want you...all of you.’’ You struggled out through moans.

Stephen tugged his pants and boxers down and met with your wet entrance, swiping up and down with all the arousal you were so generous to offer him. All for him and only him. Jesus Christ, you were sure his cock would split you in half.

He pushed himself inside of you and you could feel him pulsate, you clung onto him but he took your wrists and pinned them back down to the bed, his hold on you was ironlike. Your loud moans were bouncing off of the walls with every stroke, you were recoiling with every jut. His kiss and subsequent bite of your jaw was making you lose sight of everything and anything.

‘'How do you feel baby?'’ He asked with a death defining smirk on his face, he knew he was being condescending, he knew you couldn't spit out the words or string along a coherent sentence.

‘'I.. feel...so good.'’ You spluttered out finally.

‘’How good?’’

‘‘So…fucking good.’’

You were sure you were about to lose it when you began tightening around him, gawking up at him with lust filled eyes and a thundering heart.

Stephen couldn't remember the last time he didn't overachieve.

"’Oh my fucking God.'’ You felt your chest cave with every brutal stroke and slap on your ass, he was sure he left a warm pink palm print on your backside and it wasn't going to go away anytime soon.

You were on that sharp curve of the precipice, so close to the edge of that aching pleasure you were desperate for and with one final thrust you came undone around him, so quick in the way you gushed all of your silent frustration out on him. Stephen took your mouth to yours as he groaned into it when he came inside of you.

His head met with your chest as you panted into the cool midnight air.

Your skin was so warm and radiant, glowing from within like a goddess dripping with eternal and personified sunlight. Stephen kissed your cheek before rolling off of you and taking you in his arms, the throes of passion the night called was almost fictitious. Neither of you were talking, he just held you tightly and stroked your hair. You gripped onto him like this was the last time you'd ever feel yourself in this position.

You were scared he was going to tell you to leave and forget about all of it when morning comes, he on the otherhand was envisioning what flowers he needed to get you tomorrow to thank you for doing this for him.

For staying with him. Letting him hold you. Making him feel he has something to come home to.

——-

ending was super rushed but fuck it we ball 🫶 love ya. send me requests babies x

[whumpsmith-participates]

AI-less Whumptober 2024

Day 24 - Relapse

Tags/CW: Lukie, sleeper agent trope, lingering hypnosis

It had been seven years since the revolution. A tumultuous era that many people wanted to leave behind, in the past, where it belonged.

But trauma isn't so kind.

And trauma was especially brutal towards those who were forced to commit the kind of atrocities that went against everything they believed in.

Luke was frequently plagued by nightmares. He had been for quite some time. But they had never been this...problematic before. He could cope with most of them. Visions of the lives he took and the blood he shed? Peanuts. Hearing the words that triggered lingering hypnotic suggestions that they couldn't remove?

Yeah...those were a problem.

Luke was never quite aware when it happened. Not until someone uttered the de-activation phrase and told him what had happened.

His usual victim was his partner, Charlie, who fortunately knew exactly what to do when he woke up in the middle of the night from an attempt on his life. It happened often enough that he'd learned how to wrestle himself free and not die...but not often enough that he had the exact phrase memorised.

Which is why they had it written down, and framed, and displayed on the mantle, in the lounge, downstairs.

It seemed like a good idea at the time to have it so in view, but when Charlie woke up with Luke's hands wrapped tightly around his throat, he made a mental note to consider making multiple copies and hanging them all around the cabin they lived in, before reaching for the can of pepper spray tucked under the mattress on his side of the bed.

Pffff....

Of course it was empty. Luke had only reminded him a million times to replace it after last time. That was going to be an annoying 'I told you so.' — But now was not the time to worry about that.

He grabbed a tight hold of the can, before swinging a punch directly at Luke's face. Finally the muscle he'd built up chopping wood was good for something. Luke staggered back from the impact, letting go of Charlie's throat, allowing him to gasp and cough violently, while rolling out of bed, as he wouldn't have too much time to recover.

Sure enough Luke was back, now trying to grab him from behind. Charlie turned around, backing up until they hit the wall, and then deliberately slamming him harshly against it. And again. And a third time.

As soon as Luke's grip loosened, Charlie pulled himself free and darted towards the stairs. A narrow, steep staircase with too many turns as it was just kind of crammed into the corner of the cabin like an afterthought.

After all, the cabin really just consisted of two spaces; downstairs, with the lounge and kitchen and dining, and the loft where they slept, with a bathroom in the back.

Thanks to that open concept, that looked beautiful and cosy on rainy days with all the soft accent lights on and the fireplace burning, Luke was able to cut Charlie off by simply jumping the railing and landing on the dining table.

Charlie cursed. He could see the frame that had the de-activation phrase, but it was too dark to read it from that distance. They were definitely getting those motion-sensor lights now, no matter what Luke thought about them.

Charlie decided to chance it, darting towards the lounge, while Luke chased him down. He all but slammed against the mantle, grabbing at the frame, when Luke caught up already. He grabbed Charlie from behind again, this time pressing his hand over his mouth, as if wanting to prevent him from reading out the phrase.

"I-it's— Fmmm!!"

Charlie tried to shake his head out of his grip, but Luke stubbornly held on, trying to wrestle Charlie to the floor. Before he managed, however, Charlie took the frame he was feverishly holding and blindly whacked it over his head.

Luke flinched briefly, allowing Charlie to pull out of his grip again, pressing the frame against his chest as he grabbed the cast-iron poker that stood next to the fire place, swinging it as he spun around and smacking it against Luke's arm.

That looked painful.

Charlie swung it again, and Luke had no choice but to back away, trying to find an opening as Charlie wildly swung the poker, glancing back down at the framed text now that he had a chance.

"It is the dead unhappy— Fuck!"

He gasped as Luke managed to grab the poker and yanked it from his hands. Charlie quickly backed away, throwing the frame at Luke to try and create enough distance.

The frame was smashed to bits as Luke hit it mid-air with the poker, but it did the trick nonetheless as Charlie darted towards the kitchen while feverishly reciting the phrase.

"It is the dead unhappy night, and I must hurry home to tea! It is the dead unhappy night, and I must hurry home to tea! It is the dead unhappy night, and I must hurry home to tea!"

He wasn't sure why he repeated it thrice, when one should be enough, but in his defence: There seemed to be some kind of delay, as Luke still lunged at him with the fire poker, only to stop just before hitting Charlie.

He'd already flinched and braced for impact and everything, but all he felt was a slight gust of wind, and the poker frozen right next to his face, while Luke gave him a wide-eyed stare, before promptly dropping the poker.

Charlie couldn't help but to let out a sob of relieve, slowly sinking to the floor as the tension left his body, while Luke stumbled backwards and dropped himself into one of the kitchen chairs, covering his mouth with his hands as he caught his breath...or tried not to hyperventilate. It was hard to tell in the dark and through the tears.

When they both recovered somewhat, Luke wordlessly got up to turn the lights on, while Charlie grabbed some ice from the freezer, handing it over to Luke as they both sat down on the couch in the lounge.

Luke groaned as he pressed the ice against his face, while Charlie pulled a pillow from behind his back so he could hug it instead, staring at the broken frame on the floor.

They sat in silence for a while, before both trying to break it.

"I'm s—"

"Sorry—"

They both promptly stopped talking when they realised the other was talking as well, resulting in another awkward silence.

"Are you cold?" Luke asked after a good moment.

Charlie nodded, to which Luke got up, limping towards the fireplace to get a fire started. While he did that, Charlie grabbed the dustpan from the kitchen and began sweeping up the pieces of frame.

"Maybe we should paint it on the ceiling in glow-in-the-dark paint," he quietly suggested while fishing the printed phrase from between the shards and wood chips.

"...sorry," Luke just replied, squatting by the still-small fire and absent-mindedly poking the logs.

"It's not your fault," Charlie quickly said, putting the dustpan on the salon table and approaching Luke...but he pulled away when Charlie reached out to comfort him.

"Luke...it's not your fault," Charlie repeated, "you didn't ask to be turned into this. Neither did I, and you never blame me either...do you?"

"...no," Luke murmured, before shifting his position to sit down in front of the fire, leaning his head against Charlie's leg.

Charlie let him be for a minute, before sitting down next to him, letting him fall over and rest his head in his lap, staring at the flames as they began licking around the larger logs, allowing both of them to get warmed up nicely.

"Do you want to talk about the nightmare that triggered it?" Charlie asked, gently tousling Luke's hair.

"...same old shit," Luke just said, "someone saying the words and...next thing I know I'm trying to stab you with the fire poker."

"Well, this should cheer you up," Charlie said, "I never checked the pepper spray, and it turned out to be empty after all—"

"Oh my god, Charles!" Luke said, sitting up again, "I told you so many times! I don't want to hurt you, so you need to be ready to kick my ass!!"

"I think I improvised pretty well, though," Charlie said, brushing past the bruise that was beginning to form on the side of Luke's face, "we should come up with a cover story for that, because that's not going away any time soon."

"You're right, 'I fell while hunting' sounds a lot more believable than 'Charlie decked me.'"

"Are you implying that I can't throw a punch?" Charlie asked with a pout.

"I'm implying that you're too nice to even want to throw a punch," Luke quickly improvised.

"Oh! Aw~"

@ailesswhumptober

Charlie belongs to @illustriousshadow

The de-activation phrase comes the poem Echoes by Lewis Carroll

Masterlist Main account

So both Luke and Charlie were used as sleeper agents against their will and without their knowledge until it was too late and they bonded over that and now they live a hermit life in a cabin in the middle of the woods.

[notdavidfincher]

sounds like a lovely day!! mine was quiet as well. it’s been raining a lot, so i’m having a cosy day in. what do you you grow in your garden? i love the mental image of your cats helping you!

I miss cosy rainy days tbh we've barely had any of those this winter!

So, the garden! It's not much but there's white jasmine and wisterias at full bloom currently. We have a variety of bushes and vines like laurustinus, schefflera, milkworts, eonymus japonicus, blue jasmine, hibiscus, hortensia, chinese trumpet flower, ivy, strelitzia, aloes, irises, callas, queen of the night, a variety of roses and daisies, to name a few. We even have banana plants, lemon trees, orange trees, mandarin trees, pines, cypresses, pomegranates, olive trees.. a typical mediterranean garden I think with a touch of tropical plants to make things a bit more interesting 🥲 my older cat, satan, he likes to keep me company when I'm in the garden but he never bothers me. Canello on the other hand sees it as a game so he's more involved with everything I do 😅

[pastel-charm-14]

୨⎯ cosy book recommendations ⎯୧

for those rainy days when all you want to do is snuggle up with a warm blanket and lose yourself in a captivating story.

"The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows - set against the backdrop of post-World War II England, this novel unfolds through a series of letters exchanged between writer juliet ashton and the eccentric members of the guernsey literary and potato peel pie society.

"Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine" by Gail Honeyman - follow the journey of eleanor oliphant, a socially awkward but endearing woman whose carefully structured life is turned upside down by an unexpected friendship. explores themes of loneliness, resilience, and the power of human connection.

"The Night Circus" by Erin Morgenstern - set in the enchanting world of le cirque des rêves, a mysterious circus that only appears at night, where magic and wonder abound. a spellbinding tale of love, rivalry, and destiny.

"The Secret Garden" by Frances Hodgson Burnett - a timeless classic. follow young mary lennox as she discovers a hidden garden and unlocks the secrets of her own heart. a celebration of nature, friendship, and the transformative power of hope.

happy reading! ׂׂૢ

[abczine]

Maggie’s love of music and appreciation for the bygone golden ages of the world endear her to Aziraphale (and certain others), and it’s a good thing, too, as her record shop hasn’t been doing so well of late. A kindhearted woman with dreams of once-in-a-lifetime romance, Maggie soldiers through her loneliness and financial problems with enviable grace and optimism. Some things are worth appreciating and fighting for, and nobody knows this as well as Maggie does. She wears her romantic’s heart on the sleeve of her cosy knitted jumper, and she hopes that for every rainy night in London, there will be a sunny day to follow. Call her sentimental, or even foolish, but only the strongest of people can greet each morning with a smile, and Maggie is one of those people.

If you’d like to see more of these characters, consider subscribing to the Above, Below, and the Common Ground Zine, and click here to fill out our interest check!

[dmaasain]

Beyond Trends: Building a Capsule Wardrobe for Every Woman

Before heading towards the blog, give a hats-on to all those women who have already created the capsule wardrobe for themselves.

High-end clothing is a statement of personality and individuality and it tells you about who you are and the type of fashion style you prefer. The type of clothes we wear depends on our mood, interests, and the comfy apparel in our wardrobe. But we can’t be repetitive in our clothing decisions and hence we prefer to have apparel that we can turn into multiples. That is where the capsule wardrobe comes into motion.

Every person is different and so are their preferences; some want to become a new fashionista and some have no bluff of interest in it. One thing to make you clear is that it all depends on you.

This Women’s Day, let’s revamp your wardrobe and make an empowering statement without regretting our decisions. In this blog, we are discussing how you can create a capsule wardrobe rather than relying on fleeting trends.

Your wardrobe creates a whole story about you

It is absolutely true that a wardrobe is not just a mix-and-match collection; it is a narrative that adds character to bring instincts of good experience. This is the most happening thing in every male and female's lives, and it shares the perspective of your style of living. Along with perspective, it outlines an individual power of belief, style, and personal thoughts.

The capsule wardrobe is a heavenly place that can make or break your mood. The capsule wardrobe has a well-refined, curated collection to make your everyday pair perfect.

Ensure that you have a collection that has a one-size-fits-all approach, like versatility, sustainability, and trending. Then you can mix or match the capsule wardrobe materials with your casual and formal events.

Do you also want to create a story through your capsule wardrobe? If yes, then the rest of the story is all about you.

Take a look at the benefits of having a capsule wardrobe.

Do you want to have a collection where you don’t need to crash your mind towards the wardrobe and scream like what to wear? Absolutely yes, because it is the dream of every woman to not figure out their clothes every night. And, of course, women’s day is heading after a few days and it is time to roll out with your women's gang.

Now is the time to take a look at the benefits of having the best capsule wardrobe collections.

Timeless elegance

The best part of having a capsule wardrobe is having the best collections that never run out of style. Trendy, chic, classic, and contemporary—your everyday go-to selection will never make you bored and can make you obsessed. The capsule wardrobe acts as a timeless beauty, like block printing art, whose beauty remains forever.

Cost-effective

This method is highly cost-effective, as you don’t need to run into clothing stores for on-time traditional and corporate events. Capsule Wardrobe welcomes you to embrace your personality and style with the best kind of collection. It is not everyone’s cup of tea to spend much on the clothes but for some, it is. But it is an opportunity for females to have all choices.

Sustainable fashion

Sustainable fashion or, as you can say, slow fashion is a trending reward that every fashionista female will embrace. Embark on the journey of slow fashion; you are not alone. This benefits the environment and also the people who prefer less purchasing and more on utilising sustainable clothes. Dresses that are comfortable, cosy, and crafted from sustainable materials will be something that never runs out of style.

Feel free to enjoy fashion.

The beauty of fashion is comfort. The more you feel comfortable, the better experience you could have with yourself. Sunny, wintery, and rainy—your capsule wardrobe is inviting you to choose one of your collections and create hype. With your sustainable and cosy collection, you can inspire your girls gang and encourage them to make one for themselves.

View More

[shoestringuk101]

The Latest Trends in Women's Horse Riding Boots

Horse riding isn't just a sport; it's a lifestyle. And within that lifestyle, fashion plays a crucial role. Gone are the days of simple, practical boots relegated to the stable. Today's women's riding boots are:

A fashion statement.

A blend of functionality and flair.

Seamlessly transitioning from arena to avenue.

So, whether you're a seasoned equestrian or a weekend hobbyist, buckle up and discover the latest trends in womens horse riding boots that will have you turning heads both in the paddock and beyond.

1. Classic Chic

For those who cherish timeless elegance, the classic tall riding boot remains an undisputed champion. Crafted from supple leather in rich browns and blacks, these boots exude sophistication and practicality. Think polished Polo Ralph Lauren elegance or the equestrian chic of Penelope Chilvers. Pair them with breeches and a fitted blazer for a competition-ready look, or dress them down with jeans and a chunky knit sweater for a cosy fall vibe.

2. Embrace the Short

Not everyone needs a boot that reaches their knee. Short-riding boots are chic and versatile, perfect for warmer weather or those who prefer a more casual aesthetic. Look for square-toe styles like those from Toteme, or embrace the Western-inspired trend with a pair of knee-high cowboy boots from Khaite.

3. Material Matters

While leather is the traditional choice, innovative materials are making their mark. Waterproof horse riding boots for women by Aquatalia are perfect for rainy days, while rubber riding boots from brands like Aigle offer ultimate practicality without sacrificing style. For eco-conscious riders, vegan leather options are becoming increasingly popular, offering a cruelty-free alternative.

4. Beyond Brown

While neutrals will always be a staple, bold colours are taking the equestrian world by storm. Rich burgundy boots by Dubarry add a touch of elegance, while emerald green boots from De Niro Boot Company make a statement. Feel free to experiment with pops of colour, especially for casual wear.

5. Details Make the Difference

It's the little things that elevate a primary boot to a fashion statement. Look for subtle details like contrast stitching, embossed patterns, or decorative buckles. Chain accents on boots like those from Tory Burch add a touch of edgy glamour, while tassels on Penelope Chilver boots inject a playful vibe.

6. Beyond Riding

The beauty of the latest women's riding boots is their versatility. They're no longer confined to the stables. Pair knee-high boots with a mini skirt and statement tights for a night out, or rock short boots with a flowy maxi dress for a bohemian chic look. The possibilities are endless!

7. Sustainable Style

Conscious consumers are increasingly seeking sustainable options in all aspects of their lives, and equestrian fashion is no exception. Look for brands like Parlanti and Mountain Horse that prioritize environmentally friendly materials and ethical production practices.

8. Comfort is Key

No matter how stylish your boots are, they should be comfortable to wear in the saddle. Look for features like padded footbeds, flexible shanks, and breathable linings. A good fit is essential, so consider getting your boots professionally measured.

9. Invest in Quality

A good pair of ladies' riding boots is an investment. Choose quality materials like full-grain leather and sturdy construction. With proper care, they can last for years, becoming a cherished part of your equestrian wardrobe.

10. Find Your Perfect Fit

With so many women's riding boots on the market, the key is to find a pair that reflects your personal style and riding needs. Whether you're a competitive rider or a casual enthusiast, there's a perfect boot out there waiting for you. So, saddle up, embrace the latest trends, and show the world that equestrian fashion is anything but one-dimensional.

[mycreativitysblog]

Desi Ghee: Exactly How To Make It, Nourishment, Advantage For Health And Wellness, Skin As Well As Recipes

Food is a challenging subject. Especially, if you are attempting to chat, clarify and vouch by the benefits of standard foods - it makes it even more complicated. Even then let's try. Now, allow's make a checklist of all those components picking up on our kitchen shelves-- hand battered rice, cold-pressed cooking oils, unpolished pulses and also the listing is unlimited but hey wait! where's desi ghee?

Earthomaya Desi ghee? Exactly how is it various from normal ghee? Why is it so unique as well as how did it gain the precursor 'Desi?' Well. First things first. To put it exactly, desi ghee is made from pure cow's milk. It is generated after huge churning of buttermilk and also home heating butter at the ideal temperature level, in a standard method for that aromatic as well as abundant flavour.

Alright. If you thought, it's fascinating, let's speak more about very own desi ghee or simply cleared up butter as they simply put it in English. And also once again if you are asking yourself if the desi ghee as well claimed its position back and if it is really healthy - in the next couple of paragraphs, we will certainly be busting numerous misconceptions related to that golden colour, clear fluid with periodic solidified material drifting around-- as well as why, you must be making it a part of your staple diet plan, today!

There is no rejecting that ghee or ghrita, as they say in Sanskrit is our very own Indian invention. Each little drop has been supporting the human race for a many variety of generations, inhabiting a crucial function in rituals, as an important part of ancient medicine Ayurveda eventually ending up being an indivisible part of our lives.

The word ghee is created from the Sanskrit word ghr- which indicates sprinkle and also in Southern parts of India it is extensively known as Neyyi. Ghee inhabits a critical position be it in Vedic rituals, marital relationships, spiritual personalizeds as well as differed foods across India, Middle Eastern and also South East Asian countries.

Desi Ghee In Traditional Messages:

Hindu Vedic message Yajurveda states ghee, made from pure cow's milk as a sacred active ingredient, a must-have in all homams, yagnas and is used to agni (fire) as well as various divine beings, throughout rituals.

The impressives Mahabharata as well as Bhagavata are incomplete without the mention of desi ghee, as Kauravas were thought to be nurtured as fetus in a pot filled with ghee, while the stories of little Krishna and his buddies salivating over ghee as well as various other milk items have actually always stayed a delight for the supporters.

Muslims think ghee from grass-fed cows is both a shifaa (treatment) and dawaa (medication) for its variety of health and wellness and medicinal residential or commercial properties. It is likewise interesting to note that Buddhism attributes 'ghee' to the greatest order of understanding, often contrasting it to the last of 5 flavours in dairy-- milk, lotion or malai, curdled milk, butter and then ghee to Lotus and Paradise sutras-- the highest amongst all mentors.

Conventional Indian medicine recommends lights diyas, by dipping wicks made from pure cotton, in ghee to eliminate viruses, bacteria and various other contaminants airborne, at night hrs particularly during rainy and also winter seasons.

Desi Ghee in Cuisines:

The existence of desi ghee in our day-to-day live is enormous also today, with every foodie connecting for a dose of this dairy products marvel, to cover their dishes. South Indians swear by their, 'Ghee roast' the crispy dosas, cosy idlis dipped in newly made 'neyyi,' while for North Indians, puranpoli, parathas, rotis, biriyani, kichidi and not to fail to remember halwas, laddus are just incomplete, without charitable blobs of ghee.

In lots of Indian families, offering food with freshly thawed ghee signifies pride, love and it is a typical view in our family members, mommies as well as grandmothers stipulating their kids to add more ghee to their diet regimen.

Like all other traditional foods, Desi Ghee also experienced couple of grim years in the last one decade yet all thanks to the understanding being created by stars, nutritional specialists, it is regaining its splendor. From being labelled as undesirable, fatty, a major contributor to weight gain, it is now trending as a superfood and also prior to we plunge into myths and also realities related to desi ghee, let's recognize, how specifically it is made.

How To Make Desi Ghee?

Desi ghee is made from A2 milk and also it is procured from Indian grass-fed cows with A2A2 gene. This milk does not consist of A1 protein and also contains just A2 beta-casein and also according to studies, A2 milk is much healthier than other sorts of milk.

It is not simply the procedure, however ingredients as well, vary from desi ghee to various other ghee types. In other ghee, there could be possible amounts of vegetable trans fat, which are dangerous for health and wellness.

Procedure:

Desi ghee is made by using bilona or vilona method as mentioned in Ayurveda. Under this sophisticated procedure, milk is steamed and cooled. It is then included with half a spoon of curd and also kept overnight under area temperature level to create into curd.

The curd is after that spun right into buttermilk and also butter that drifts on the pot is collected right into a thick bottomed vessel. It is then boiled on low flame as well as the water gets evaporated, leaving fragrant ghee behind. In a couple of households, it is a technique to include betel nut fallen leave to the boiling butter to give it some extra intense flavour.

In case, if you are utilizing store-bought ghee and also check the pureness, steam a dose above fire and also if it reddens, after that it is pure.

Desi Ghee in Ayurveda:

Ayurveda specifies ghee as the byproduct of butter with no impurities. According to old Ayurvedic message, Sushruta Samhita desi ghee efficiently handle various anomalies caused because of pitta dosha such as inflammation. It remains in fact likewise serves as a rasayana which implies it can recover both body and mind at the same time.

One more well-known Ayurvedic scripture Charaka Samhita as well mirrors similar sights, also in an intricate method. It describes that ghee is extremely suggested for those bodily constitutions often controlled by vata and pitta doshas. It is suggested forever vision, long life, to develop immunity, strength, ojas, smooth skin with a glowing skin, memory, intelligence, fire up digestion, utmost performance of all sensory body organs, as a balm to recover burn injuries and also can be taken by the old, children and the weak alike.

Why Is Desi Ghee Healthy?

Desi ghee is made up of fats of which 62% is saturated fats which play a popular function in enhancing HDL or excellent cholesterol, minimize LDL or bad cholesterol without damaging the lipid account. Ghee is additionally a rich source of Omega 3 and also Omega 6 and is loaded with vital amino acids.

Boosts Digestion:

Ghee is a giant of short-chain fats known as butyric acid which aids in breaking down of food better, also while boosting digestion enzymes. It is maybe one of minority food with all-natural butyric acid which can calm as well as recover the gastrointestinal tract for much better functioning.

Regulates Blood Sugars:

In contrast to the belief that ghee needs to be avoided by the diabetics, it, actually, works as a representative that can metabolise and also stabilize the degrees of high blood glucose levels. It is strongly suggested for diabetics to include ghee in their diet as it not only promotes smooth food digestion yet likewise stimulates the manufacturing of insulin to manage diabetic issues.

Heals Urticaria:

Urticaria or hives are unexpected outbreaks on the skin, that resemble tiny bumps externally often created as a result of insect bites, allergic reactions and even tension. While this condition is typically dealt with by antihistamines, Ayurveda recommends using pure desi ghee on the impacted areas for prompt relief from itchiness. It additionally suggests consuming half-a-spoon desi ghee mixed in one spoon black pepper powder daily on empty stomach to deal with the issue completely.

Improves Reproductive Health:

Ghee is recommended for boosting the performance of man as well as female reproductive organs. Females of reproductive age are recommended to take two teaspoons of desi ghee everyday to regulate hormones while in males the same quantity of ghee enhances sperm high quality and also motility.

Deals with Sleeping disorders:

Ghee is a marvel component dealing with severe insomnia. Delicately scrub ghee on temples and also on the stomach around the marine to stabilize vata as well as to cool down the body. This massage leaves a calming effect on the mind, causing an excellent quantity of sleep.