#hairsbreadth

[athina-blaine]

pinning this to my fridge btw [x]

[unloneliest]

it has been a really long time since the anchorage unitarian universalists broke my heart like longer than this blog has existed but i'm going to [current city]'s fellowship today for the first time to see if there's a home for me there and i just like. want to tell you guys

[y-rhywbeth2]

Who decided the drow should have so much fucking lore anyway.

('I should've been a drow.' You can't fucking stand Cazador or your 'siblings' you would not fucking want to be a drow. Although I guess Astarion would make a fair Vhaeraunite.)

[incendiorum]

inter mundos exists as an almost-entity. a hairs-breadth below sentience. it has a permanent connection to io's brain, enough for it to perform the constant math that involves moving itself, its occupants, and an entire other building through time and space. and enough of a connection that it can draw on the deep well of io's magic. and it will only draw on io's. their blood is in the paint of the sigils, as well as ingredients that have a deep personal connection to them. suddenly and violently severing the link between io and inter mundos (destroying it) would be mentally devastating to them, and they likely would not recover, unless they were still in possession of enough of themself to slowly rebuild the shop (unlikely). but this is something io has told no one. to do so would be a massive show of trust and io is... rarely capable of that. it's an incredibly risky choice they made, but it was the only way to allow the shop full function in the way that they desired. inter mundos can defend itself if necessary. if io is not present, then it can't defend itself as well. if io is close, then it can absolutely utilize their mind to achieve a brief, malicious form of sentience and thought. and with its ability to bend time and space, reshape reality as it sees fit, and use io's power - it is very good at defending itself.

[omegalomania]

i don't completely understand the suitehearts universe but i think the doctor should get to kill someone. just for fun

yeah you know like for science or whatever

[night-dark-woods]

.

[saintshigaraki]

speaking of hawks. lets talk about gojo 

[theinfinitedivides]

Rishi bestest boi 🥺😔

[monachopsissssss]

wow that is incredibly homosexual :D

[illogicalvulcans]

ive been bewitched by the basic human wizard man

[onehundredflamingos]

13 / head | scarf / 447 words

@stag-microfic | @taylorswiftmicrofic

“I wish you’d stop wearing my brother’s clothes,” Sirius said with a scowl, nodding at the Slytherin scarf wrapped around James’ neck. “Green isn’t your color.”

“Every color is his color,” Regulus argued, suddenly standing beside James.

James had slept over in Regulus’ dorm room the night before; he had gotten ready there before breakfast, and wasn’t expecting to see Regulus again until after their school days were over. “Although I am partial to him putting my clothes on instead of his own after we fu—”

“That’s—“ Sirius cleared his throat, quickly drowning out the rest of Regulus’ sentence with his own sound of disgust. He turned away, muttering quietly to himself, “I hate this.”

“Are you trying to give him a heart attack?” James asked with a laugh, turning away from his best friend’s retreating back and looking down at his boyfriend.

“Me?” Regulus asked indignantly, feigning offense. “You’re the one who grabbed my scarf this morning.”

“It smells like you,” James replied, almost petulantly. The words were confident, but he could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks.

Regulus smiled up at him, a soft, knowing thing that was reserved only for James, before grabbing each end of the offending scarf in each of his fists. He tugged roughly, yanking James’ head down until their lips were a mere hairsbreadth apart.

“Meet me in my dorm at lunch and you can earn it back,” Regulus said suggestively, before pulling James into a deep kiss. There was the distant, unmistakable sound of Sirius choking on his pumpkin juice behind them, but James could hardly hear it, all of his senses honing in on the feel of Regulus’ tongue against his own. His focus was solely on the promise of what was to come. “But right now I need it back, or I won’t hear the end of it from Slughorn.”

James whined as they broke apart, but he let Regulus pull the fabric from around his neck, and watched as Regulus turned to walk away with nothing more than a wink.

“Stop staring at my little brother,” Sirius said, walking back up to James and smacking him in the back of the head. “We’re going to be late for transfiguration.”

“But he’s so p—”

“If I have to hear you tell me that he’s pretty one more time, I’m gonna hit you again.”

James huffed out a laugh, but obediently followed Sirius to class in silence anyway.

He spent the rest of the morning keeping his thoughts to himself, the ones of a pretty pale body writhing beneath his touch, of pretty pink lips and pretty grey eyes.

Lunch didn’t come nearly fast enough.

[ninibeingdelulu]

Lazy kisses ✧

Plot: Cuddling with your boyfriend .

An idle Sunday lazed by in sun-dappled tranquility, the midday silence cloaking your shared bedroom in a syrupy warmth.

Not even the hazy tick of the bedside clock intruded upon this blissful pocket of domesticity - save for the occasional breathy sigh escaping your lips as you lost yourself within the pages splayed before you.

Nestled amidst the cozily rumpled sheets lay Leon - your normally unshakable, clear-eyed sentinel anchored steadfastly against the world's roiling tides of nightmarish evil.

Yet within these achingly finite moments behind closed doors, even that stalwart facade softened into pure boyish vulnerability.

Gradually stirring from a deep, much-needed slumber after over a week's deployment, Leon drowsily burrowed tighter against your bare thigh with a mumble muffled by plush bedding.

Still smeared in the dregs of jet lag and weariness plaguing those steely features despite being worlds away from his latest harrowing operation.

Simply sinking deeper within your comforting presence with a reflexive nuzzle sent your chest swelling with boundless affection.

Those habitually hyper-alert gunmetal irises remained obscured beneath a heavy fringe of tawny lashes, angular jawline lax.

Leon Kennedy - the living epitome of unrelenting willpower and heroism borne from steel - reduced to nothing more than an endearingly rumpled mass in slackened repose beside you.

Just one innocuous shift of the mattress was all it took for those gunmetal blues to finally drag open through a squint, fixating upon your doting half-smile with a tender yearning.

The sort which inevitably dissolved every carefully maintained stoicism within their molten depths.

Reaching across the sliver of space between you, Leon toyed idly with a lock of your tousled hair, drifting nearer until your faces hovered a hairsbreadth apart.

Until his baritone burr ghosted over your parted lips like velvet rasping across satin.

"Hey...missed you," that chiseled visage tilted into yours ever-so-slightly, thumb sweeping reverently along your jawline with undisguised longing.

"Kiss me?"

Catching your giggle before it could fully bubble up, you nodded and carefully tucked your novel away.

Because the toweringly heroic, hyper-competent government operative you'd fallen so maddeningly hard for morphed into the gentlest, neediest lover once breaching your oasis's bounds.

Skimming the calloused pad of your thumb across his whiskered jaw, you felt that delicious familiarity thrumming beneath in the tautening of sinewy muscle and tendons as Leon initiated the achingly slow, unhurried collision of your mouths.

Yet with none of the commanding intensity one would expect from such an epitome of masculine fortitude.

Instead, the instant your lips brushed in gossamer friction, Leon melted like warmed honey into your soothing embrace.

Solid contours molding seamlessly against you as that impassioned heat blossomed steadily across your mouths and into hungry, writhing depths.

Sloppy and luxuriantly decadent, your limbs languidly tangling as scorching pants mingled on feverish cusp of perpetual collapse.

Silken muscle glided in achingly deliberate, indulgent strokes of worship. Chasing the maddening bliss only he could lure forth with such practiced reverence.

Wholly cherished and consumed, swathed in the rich cedar and gunpowder musk cloaking your senses, you both spun deliriously in a centrifuge of celestial descent - until rasping breaths and tender caresses ultimately pulled back the hazy veil.

Lids fluttered open in tandem, mere inches between your swollen, reddened lips as molten slate gray bore unguarded into yours.

A barely-perceptible smile ghosted across Leon's finely-hewn features - rare and infinitely more beautiful than any treasures hoarded across the globe.

"Thanks, gorgeous..." he purred, hoarse and thoroughly spent as you traded trembling inhales and exhales.

"Was needing that. Bad."

And with zero preamble, he reclined back into that sweet respite afforded between your cradling arms and heartbeat's lullaby like a contented infant - soaking in the solace and reprieve you alone could grant.

Peering down at your beloved, honed warrior recharging his depleted batteries while you tenderly sifted adoring fingers through his burnished forelocks, you couldn't help but shake your head through another helpless giggle.

Leon Kennedy.

The very man entrusted with safeguarding humanity from incomprehensible evil incarnate.

A deadly, hyper-lethal force to be reckoned with by hell's legions.

Yet in this sanctuary of love and tenderness you shared, he teetered forever on the precipice of simply dissolving into a huge, needy baby within your sheltering arms.

And honestly? You wouldn't have traded this meltingly sweet authenticity for all the universe's wealth and laurels.

[prodekus]

A lot of Tartarus is an elaborate string of lies meant to control its populace. Here, Midoriya was often haunted by Shigaraki. His hands were wrapped and gloved and padded to the point of being nearly oven mitts, bracelets that suppress Quirk use to almost nothing. Although Tartarus knew the general population knew very little about its inside happenings, they knew if word got out that they did what Overhaul did to heroes—get rid of their Quirks and their minds in the process, reduce them to husks without a part of their soul—there would be an outcry so monumental they might have had to shut down.

His hands, the ones that held onto his body and his face, were removed into a separate building entirely on Tartarus’ series of islands. His comrades, with the exception of Dabi who simply refused to enter the facilities without having to be constantly and horrifically sedated, were able to start the process of villain rehabilitation. It was a program that Deku spearheaded early on in his career.

Shigaraki was not allowed that luxury, no matter how hard he tried to testify and protest for him, for his lack of agency under All for One’s guidance, but people didn’t care. They didn’t want to listen. Catastrophe is catastrophe, the media cried when Midoriya was recorded holding Shigaraki’s shoulders in reassurance at one of his weeks-long trials. And the guilty must be punished!

The HPSC had once said to him, after Shigaraki’s trials ended and normalcy began to appear in the wild again, that: you’re a danger to every wannabe revolutionary around you. For all the good you do, Deku, you’re bad press.

Midoriya, astounded they had actually had their guts so tightly riled up about him and his bad PR skills, had asked them why is that the case?

And they had said: because you always feel sympathy for the bad guy.

[throneofsapphics]

against the contract, chapter one

poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

summary: If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare

warnings: d/s dynamics seen, bondage, bdsm, piercing kink, needles, blood, toys

word count: 2022

a/n: here we go!! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, next chapter comes 10/1 :)

series masterlist | next chapter >>>

There's a type of power in entering a room and having everyone stop to look at you. Rhysand, the devil of Velaris, knew that all too well, and loved every second of it. A man like him was made for the dark and night, but that didn't mean he couldn't shine in it. Tonight, however, someone else was capturing everyone's attention, and he intended to figure out who and what made them so enticing. You’d slowly gained notoriety, and he made it his job to know all players in his city. 

A single question to the right person, someone who recognized him, got him directions to a back room, he entered with his right hand wrapped around Feyre's waist, keeping her flush against his side. Azriel kept pace beside him on the left, a hairsbreadth too close to be just friendly, his shoulder brushing against his every few steps. 

The room they found was bathed in red light, throwing a ... sexual energy over everything. Intentional, he was sure of it. A leather topped platform stood on top of another platform at the front of the room, elevated perhaps two feet or so off the ground. 

Right there, kneeling on the leather, that’s where he got his first glance at you. With your eyes cast downward, hair braided back, hands behind your back, you made the picture-perfect submissive. He couldn't see behind you, but he could imagine you had perfect positioning from that angle as well, either your fingers interlocked, or opposite forearms grasped. He imagined there wasn't much about you that wasn't perfect. 

A dark haired, tanned woman stood before you, circling. You kept perfectly still. He spotted the tray on a small stool to the left. Needles, jewelry, swabs, alcohol wipes, and everything else needed for a piercing. His interest rose more, especially as he noticed Feyre’s head tilt up, her body pushed lightly against his arm as she straightened for a better view. 

You’d never see the three of them, cloaked in darkness as they were but you shone under that spotlight. 

There was no announcement, no grand words as it began, but the quiet clink of a needle caught everyone’s attention. Each bit of this was intentional, he knew it, to wrap someone deep into a web and for once he found himself wanting to let go, to heed resistance, to be swarmed and brought into the fold. 

Rhysand thought he caught the briefest hint of nerves, but the woman’s hand cupped your cheek and you melted. The woman stood behind you, one hand tilting your chin up, leaning down to whisper something in your ear. 

“Yes,” you replied breathily, voice carrying across the room. No honorific, if this woman was your Dominant you would’ve used the title. Rhysand couldn’t help hoping you weren’t claimed. 

She pinched your nipple, her mouth caressing the side of your neck, and he wished it was his hands and mouth on you. Another female came on stage and he watched as the two worked you, twisting the platform to show the elegant double column ties down your arms, tied off to a metal ring on the floor. Your legs were tied individually, your calves flush against the backs of your thighs, tied off to the floor as well. Pinned in place. The separate ties made sense as you spread your legs, revealing a fucking beautiful cunt, folds already glistening. He didn’t bother shifting to hide his hardening cock, especially as Feyre squirmed next to him. He knew Azriel wouldn’t move an inch, just as well as he knew there was no way the male was entirely unaffected by you. 

As the second woman brought out a vibrator and crouched slightly off to the side not to block your view, before clicking a button and pressing it deep against your clit, your teeth dug into your bottom lip, fighting to stay still. The buzzing filled the room, along with your panted breaths. 

The first woman ripped open an alcohol swab, and Rhysand shoved his free hand into his pocket to hide how his fingers curled. Azriel shot him an amused yet still aloof look, and he fought the impulse to roll his eyes like a child might. 

“Stop distracting me,” Feyre hissed and elbowed him. He hadn’t realized he was gripping her so tightly, he loosened his fingers a tad, a brush of guilt creeping in. “Oh stop that,” Feyre placed her hand on top of his. His darling was a sight, as always, clad in a sheer gossamer dress, resting just at her mid-thighs with a plunging neckline. 

He hadn’t realized he’d been stuck staring at her until she spoke again. “You’re about to miss it.” 

Rhysand’s head snapped forward fast enough his vision blurred for a second, clearing just in time to see pure ecstasy crossing your face as the needle pierced your skin. 

“I want her,” Feyre breathed after the second piercing. What or in this case who his Feyre darling wanted, he did his best to be sure she got.

Needles still in both of your breasts, you came with your head thrown back, a silent scream leaving your lips, and his newest obsession was born. 

-

You changed into comfortable clothes, leaving the jewelry in for now. You liked having it in for a few hours after each performance. There was something to be said about solidifying the experience and memory in your mind. 

The door flew open, your lips parted to give a greeting to whoever it might be, but your words froze in your mouth. It was unusual for anyone to re-enter the locker rooms, especially at this time. Comically slowly, you turned around to face the intruder, hand reaching for the knife in your bag. You relaxed as the smell of expensive but not very tastefully applied perfume hit you. 

“Morrigan wants to work with you again next time,” Francine, the club owner, said brusquely, striding into the changing room. You pause. It was strange for her to be in here, stranger to come for something that could’ve been a text. 

“She told me,” you said slowly. The blonde hadn’t said that directly, but she’d said something close enough earlier. 

“One of these days,” Mor tapped your shoulder, “I’ll convince Emerie to scene with both of us.” 

“Poor me,” you groaned over-dramatically, but in reality that sounded quite nice. 

“Excuse me, more like lucky you,” ruby red lips smiled at you over the edge of a wine glass. A sensuous and promising smile. 

A promise you’d quickly take her up on another day, but right now. “I’m out tonight,” you waved a hand over your chest. “Open wounds and all.” 

“Pity,” something, perhaps someone - probably Emerie, distracted the blonde and she pressed a kiss to your cheek before darting off behind you. Figuring that was a good time as any to leave, you tipped the bartender and left. 

Francine rubbed at her nose, shoving her red framed glasses up. Her matching red lips pursed into a frown. “Well. Since you’re here, I told them –  all three of them,” she emphasized, “ that you don’t take contracts, but they insisted on offering to you.” You tried not to show your offense at her scoff. “And that it remained sealed,” she sighed as if it was a massive inconvenience, waving the letter in the air. That caught your attention. It wouldn’t be the first time someone offered you a contract, but it would be the first time it made it to you. Usually Francine refused on your behalf, per your instructions, of course. But ... the look on her face. There was a mixture of expectation, and perhaps a hint of fear. You’d never known anything or anyone to scare that overbearing woman before. She ran a sex club for Gods sake. 

Her look implied she expected you to open it there and share. You remembered her scoff, the mocking way she said ‘you.’ No way. The nosy bird didn’t need these particular details. You enjoyed your privacy, and suspected these clients did too. Maybe a contract was just what you needed to take your mind off things, but you knew that would be very different from the ‘performances,’ you usually did a few times a week for the club. Francine liked to call you her ‘greatest discovery.’ You had choicer words for the woman, and generally kept them to yourself. 

You took the sealed envelope from her hand and tucked it into your bag. “I’ll look it over tonight and get back to you tomorrow.” 

A mix of disappointment and relief followed by a tight lipped smile and short nod as she pivoted, stalking from the room. You gave an overly cheery wave behind her back. Better than flipping her off. Too many mirrors. 

You went through your entire getting-home routine first. The Domme or Dom from your scenes always provided excellent aftercare, but it never hurt to love on yourself a little. After a shower, removing the jewelry from earlier and cleaning out the small wounds, a meal, and a couple glasses of water you finally felt ready.

Flipping through it, it looked pretty standard - nothing too crazy or out of the ordinary. Not that you had much knowledge or experience with them, but nothing crazier than what you expected. 

L.1 The Submissive will live with the Dominants for the duration of the contract.

You frowned at the line. Vague. You'd expected perhaps a bit more detail on that, but maybe it would be discussed when you met them. Gods, you really were thinking about taking this contract. Your very first one. 

Your mind wandered as you gazed over the words. If they were ugly, would you back out? You didn't think Francine would offer you a contract with someone especially hideous, but she had hinted they were very much VIP clients. Three of them, too. 

Spine straightening as you made it to the “Rules” section, you bent your head a bit closer to the paper. 

The Submissive will obey any instructions given by the Dominants immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner. The Submissive will agree to any sexual activity deemed fit and pleasurable by the Dominants excepting those activities which are outlined in hard limits (Appendix 2). They will do so eagerly and without hesitation.

Reading through the paper, seeing the official language, sent heat to your stomach. Part of you was turned on by this, the idea of having a semi-legal contract entitling individuals to your submission and you to their dominance. You bounced one leg, there was so much to think about, but it seemed so simple. A voice, one who’d gotten you into both good and bad situations, whispered at you to ‘just take it.’ 

The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominants. The Submissive will conduct themself in a respectful manner at all times, unless otherwise requested.

Unless otherwise requested ... you frowned and highlighted that section. What the hell did that mean? Perhaps some kind of roleplay. You put a question mark next to it. 

There was a section for you to fill in your hard limits, easy enough considering you’d had those memorized for years, having been asked the question frequently enough. 

You flipped back up through, double checking for the section on safewords. Satisfied with “Green, Yellow, and Red,” you didn’t mark anything on that page. 

All of this was thrilling. Invigorating. Lighting an energy you hadn’t felt at this intensity in so, so long. Not since him. 

Ashamedly, what really caught your attention, in the end, was just how much they were willing to pay for your time. You could live comfortably for years off of that sum without having to work. Perhaps this is what would send you straight to hell, but in that moment you didn’t particularly care what they looked like, as long as they obeyed the rules set on paper, so could you. 

-

Azriel, crouched in the shadows on a neighboring roof, watched through your parted blinds as you highlighted and noted the contract. Good girl. 

series taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @yeonalie @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @justasillylittlegoofyguy @aactuaaltraash @hannzoaks @angelbunny222 @​​littlest-w01f @pandabiiissh

acotar taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze

general taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @I-am-a-lost-girl16

[dearly-somber]

Birthday Boy | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. tooth rotting domestic fluff, birthday celebration, found-family, established relationship

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 846

-> warnings. Kinda suggestive at the start 😭👍🏻

-> a/n. Self-indulgent birthday JK fic <33

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Sun., Sept. 1st, 2024 @ 09:41

-> fin. Sun., Sept. 1st, 2024 @ 16:55

-> edited. Sun., Sept. 1st, 2024 @ 18:46

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

Jungkook wakes to the unmistakable feel of your lips around his earlobe.

“Mmng…”

Your giggles tickle his ear as you trail your lips over the underside of his jaw, dotting wet little kisses all across his throat. “Morning.”

Jungkook hums appreciatively, tilting his head back for easier access, his hands making their way to your hips when you give his Adam’s apple a sweet little nip.

“Bunny,” he mumbles, forcing himself to slow-blink his eyes open.

“Mm?” You kiss him (finally), gently pulling his lower lip between your teeth before leaning back down to press your foreheads together, mouths a hairsbreadth apart.

This is Jungkook’s favorite thing, he thinks. He wishes he could stay in bed with you forever… but, knowing you, you definitely had something a little extra prepared.

He smiles into your mouth, giving you a quick peck before leaning up to nuzzle against your cheek. “G’morning,” he sighs contentedly.

You giggle again, using his chest to push yourself up into a sitting position. “Sleep well?”

He nods, laughing when you smooth over his hair with your hands, cupping and squeezing his cheeks together while growling about your cuteness-aggression.

“Thank you,” he mutters through forced duck-lips, rubbing gentle circles against your exposed hips.

You frown. “For?”

“Gift,” he says. “Waking up like this…”

You scoff, gently smacking his chest before swinging your legs over the side of the bed like you’re dismounting a horse, pulling your (his) shirt down over your stomach so it rests across your thighs. “Idiot. This is a cherry on top.”

You walk across the room, rummaging around the drawer for a pair of shorts. “Get up and get ready.”

Jungkook frowns as he sits up, picking the sand from the corners of his eyes. “Huh?”

“We’re going shopping.”

“Isn’t that something you’d wanna do for your birthday?”

“Har-har, babe. Very funny.”

Jungkook grins, watching you with sparkling eyes as you come back to him, grabbing his jaw between your fingers and giving his puckered lips a firm smooch. “I got us tickets to Deadpool and Wolverine.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

“The Honda Odyssey fucked hard,” Jungkook gushes, swinging your hands back and forth as he takes a bite out of his ice cream.

You laugh fondly, biting into your sweet sugary cone. “The choreography was phenomenal,” you agree.

“Right?! Ugh—“ He kisses your cheek, pulling away with a cute little mwah that makes you involuntarily smile. “Thank you so much for today. Seriously. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” He smiles and squeezes your intertwined hands, taking another bite out of his ice cream.

“Always, Kook.”

He briefly lets go of your hand to reach into your back pocket for the apartment keys, twisting it in the lock and pushing it open while trying to catch the melting ice cream on his tongue, giving you a sly grin over his shoulder.

“Although, I might have one other thing in mind for tonight—“

“Surprise!”

Jungkook flinches in surprise as the apartment lights flash on, party streamers flying across the room as the pack come jumping out behind every nook and cranny they managed to squeeze themselves into.

“Happy birthday, brat,” Jennie grabs Jungkook by his neck and digs her knuckles into his head, laughing as Rosé pulls her off so she and Lisa can wrap their arms around him.

Jisoo fondly shakes her head, giving the younger girls a chance to finish greeting their maknae before hugging him herself, followed quickly by Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok who all collectively dogpile Jungkook (so much so that he nearly falls over).

You laugh as you close the door behind you, watching with a burning heart as the pack envelop him in their arms, loud and rowdy and full of love.

“Yah! Make room, you rascals! Stop hogging my son!”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, the tears that’d been slowly building in the corners of his eyes finally flowing down his cheeks at the sight of his mom and dad.

“Eomma,” he whispers, falling into her arms as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, cooing at him like all mothers do.

He pulls away and grasps onto his dad’s shoulder as his mom wipes at his tears, scolding him for making her emotional. “Appa,” he sniffles, hugging them both again, his dad laughing as he tries not to cry himself.

They hadn’t been able to see each other in months, and Jungkook had seemed so sad when they said they wouldn’t be able to make it. You couldn’t let that happen, so you pulled a few strings to get them off work and up to Seoul.

You can’t help the strong pulling sensation in your chest, your love for this family so close to spraying out of you in a wave of bright, iridescent light.

And despite the tears streaking across his cheeks, Jungkook’s happiness radiates like a sun radiates heat—strong and all encompassing.

He looks at you over his father’s shoulder, a tearful, loving smile on his face. Thank you, he mouths. I love you.

I love you, you whisper.

Happy birthday.

<- prev | next ->

[bucks-babe]

Time

Just a little Drabble with husband Bucky. I’ve been in a slump so sorry if this is bad😬. Thanks to @buckys-wintersoldier for convincing me not to delete this entire thing. You can follow my side blog @bucks-babesideblog so you know every time I post

Word count: 1k

Just fluffy smut. Pretty vanilla

“Take me to bed, darling.” You didn’t have to say anything else, Bucky was already on his feet, scooping you up and in the bedroom before you even knew what was going on.

Both of your clothes come off in a flurry, soft kisses and giggles following every step of the way. For once Bucky had time to worship his wife, no longer hung up on missions or training. His undivided attention can now be solely on you. No more quickies in between meetings or late facetime calls, he could take as much time as he wanted.

“Plum, need to taste you, s’been too long without her.” A sweet giggle escapes you, already nodding along. Ever so slowly, Bucky plants featherlight kisses to each toe on your left foot, trailing his kisses all the way to your inner thigh. “Love these thighs, so soft, so beautiful.” The words are mumbled against your skin, fat bruises already forming where he’s sucked hickies and left bites on your thigh.

Your cunt clenches in anticipation, needy just from the sight of your husband in between your legs. You groan when he skips over your aching pussy and gives the same treatment to your other leg. “I love you, Plum. You know that?” A desperate whine leaves your lips, Bucky’s face a hairsbreadth away.

“Love you too, Bucky, but I need you, please.” You try to buck your hips up, a futile attempt to gain friction.

“So needy already when I’ve barely touched you. S’okay, just lay back and let your husband take care of you.” The first lick of his thick tongue has you throwing your head back. Instead of devouring your pussy like he normally would, eating you like a man starved, Bucky was slow and tedious. Every lick, every suckle has a purpose - bring you as much pleasure as possible.

You didn’t expect him to have such a leisurely pace, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt. Slick covering his face, Bucky pulls away, only for a second. “Relax for me, there’s no rush, okay? We have all the time in the world.” He doesn’t wait for your response, instead laying flat on his stomach, latching back onto your clit.

“Bucky, just like that. Mouth feels so good, treating my pussy so fucking well.” Bucky groans against your cunt, using every fiber of willpower in his body to not grind against the bed, your sweet juices flowing into his mouth.

You close your eyes, laying your head back against the pillow, both hands trailing down your body in search of your lover’s hands. You sigh as one warm and one cold hand meet yours. You don’t know how long Bucky stays down there; his goal wasn’t to make you cum as soon as possible, fiending to make you delirious with pleasure. His goal today was to worship you, treat you like the goddess you are.

With each soft moan and gasp leaving your lips, Bucky finds it harder to stay still, cock harder than ever, begging to be inside you. His right hand leaves yours, massaging and caressing your hip and thigh, goosebumps rising at the trace.

Your cunt begins to pulse, orgasm building up from the depths of your belly, coil tightening more with every gentle lick. “Bucky.” The small gasp of his name has Bucky’s right hand cupping the back of your head, making you look into his eyes. His pupils, so dilated you can barely see the blue rim, stare into yours. With a shake of his tongue, you fall apart for him.

Thighs shaking, muscles seizing up, head thrown back in pleasure - you were a sight. His tongue doesn’t stop, riding you through your orgasm. As you catch your breath, Bucky lays down next to you, the warm, dry palm of his flesh hand holding your head up; the cool metal of his left busy easing your hot skin. “That was amazing, Plum. Thank you for letting me eat your pretty pussy out.”

When you come to your senses, you look at him in disbelief. “Thank me? Thank you. Matter of fact, I know how to return the favor.” You give him a lopsided smirk, brain still not fully functioning after the orgasm he gave you.

“Yeah, well how about you sit your pretty ass on my cock, huh?” You pout slightly, always ready to take him into your mouth. How could you not? He’s perfect and you want to show him every way you love him, and you love the feeling of his thick length stretching your throat.

You don’t have the energy to deny him and your pussy welcomes him without hesitation, the last 30 minutes spent with his head between your thighs preparing you for him. Bucky has to will himself not to cum; your tight heat is enough to suck the cum right out of his balls. His strong arms wrap around your waist and back, pulling you flush against him. Tears well up in your eyes as you start to move, the love and devotion in his gaze mixed with his perfect cock inside of you is too much to handle.

“Fuck, there you go sweet girl.”

“Doing so good for me.”

“Love you so much.”

“Never felt anything so good in all my life.”

“Don’t want to leave this perfect pussy.”

“Look at me, good girl.”

“I got you, your husband is gonna take care of you.”

“So fucking gorgeous, m’so lucky to have you.”

With each word you feel your second orgasm reaching out. At this point, tears are streaming down your face with no signs of stopping. It was overwhelming how much you loved him, how much he loved you. His hands never left your body, urging your slow grinds on. “Go on, cum for me, I’m right behind you.” That was all it took, pussy wrapping around him, milking his cock for all it’s worth.

As you both came down from your highs, you stayed impaled on his softening dick, not wanting to leave just yet. You fell asleep listening to his praise and words of devotion. Tomorrow, you would wake him up with his cock in your mouth, suckling on him until he cums, then make him some breakfast and do it all again.