#i would like to start moving in my body in ways that feel good and that keep me excited and engaged and that don't immediately worsen

[beloveds-embrace]

(non-sexual smell kink with simon riley 🙂‍↕️)

Simon wasn’t used to softness.

His life had been a long stretch of damp alleyways, stale cigarettes, and the kind of bars where the floor stuck to your boots if you stood still too long. Even the so-called clean places had a lingering scent of old beer and sweat, clinging to the air like a bad memory. He’d spent years thinking that was just how life smelled- musty, metallic, a little rotten around the edges.

Then you came along.

Simon never thought of himself as a man who cared much for scents, but you ruined him without even trying. It started with something small- your presence shifting the air in a room before he even saw you. A whisper of something clean and soft, clinging to your skin like an invisible halo.

You used body powder, he’d eventually learn, the kind that puffed into the air like smoke when you dusted it over your skin, leaving a faint, lingering trail wherever you went. He’d caught the scent of it the first time he stepped into your space, expecting the usual mix of cheap air fresheners or laundry detergent. Instead, he was hit with something warm, almost nostalgic, like fresh linens and a touch of vanilla.

It drove him mad in the best way.

Simon found himself leaning in when you passed by, subtle at first- just a slight tilt of his head when you moved close enough for your scent to brush against him. Then, less subtle- pulling you against his chest after long missions, face buried in your neck, inhaling deep enough to burn the memory of you into his lungs.

“You smell so good.” He muttered once, almost embarrassed by the admission.

You’d laughed, fingers brushing against the back of his head, free of the mask. “Yeah? What do I smell like?”

He hesitated, unsure how to explain it. Saying soft didn’t make sense. Neither did safe, even though that’s what it felt like. So he settled for: “Just… really good.”

You didn’t tease him for it. Just smiled, pressed a kiss to his jaw, and let him breathe you in.

And the first time Johnny met you, he almost had the same reaction.

Simon had warned him ahead of time- half because he wanted Johnny to behave and half because he wasn’t sure how his best mate would react to seeing Simon with someone so different from everything he’d ever known.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Simon had said.

Johnny had grinned at him. “Wouldd nae dream of it.”

You’d met at a quiet pub, one of the few places Simon could tolerate. Johnny had been his usual self, easygoing and full of charm especially for Simon’s missus, but the moment you’d leaned in to shake his hand, his expression shifted.

“Steamin’ Jesus…” Johnny blurted out, blinking at you.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, and your eyes shifted in hesitance towards Simon. “Uh. Nice to meet you too?”

Simon sighed, already knowing where this was going.

Johnny sniffed the air- actually sniffed- then gave Simon a look of utter betrayal. “You never told me she smelled this good.”

You let out a startled laugh. “What?”

Simon groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Don’t encourage him, lovie.”

Johnny, the bastard, ignored him completely. “I mean it, love, you smell incredible. It’s like-” He inhaled deeply again, thoughtful. “Powdered sugar. Or fresh sheets. Or- hell, I dunno. Just really, really nice.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, I do use a lot of body powder.”

“Where do you get it?” Johnny asked immediately.

Simon shot him a glare. “…Why?”

Johnny grinned, waggling his brows. “So I can get some for myself, obviously.”

Simon muttered something under his breath that made Johnny laugh, but he ignored them both, turning to you instead. “Sorry, love. Just didn’t expect my best mate to be walking around smelling like a bloody bakery all the time.”

You smiled at Simon, amused. “You didn’t tell him?”

Simon crossed his arms, feeling warm in a way that had nothing to do with the pub’s heating. You looked lovely. Content. Happy, leaning into him without fear. “Didn’t think it was relevant.”

Johnny scoffed. “Not relevant? if I had a lass smellin’ this nice, I’d be bragging all day.”

Simon just shook his head, reaching for his drink. But later that night, when it was just the two of you, he tucked you against him and pressed his face into your neck, breathing deep.

You smelled like home. Like warmth. Like the one thing in his life that had never felt dirty, no matter how much blood and grime he carried with him.

And he would never, ever get enough of it.

[liabugs]

how do you think the boys would be with an mc who's like deathly scared of sex, like she wants it but is so terribly frightened of it :( like she can cuddle and kiss them but she gets scared when things get sexual :(

I have so many asks in my inbox but this one caught my eye :3

This took kinda a dark turn in zayne's + Caleb's so tw for dubcon/noncon, not proof read

CW: fam!reader (she/her pronouns used) male masturbation, making out, pantie stealing (?) baby trapping, use if 'gege' (Caleb's) let me know if I missed any 🩷

Dividers by @/v6que and @/anitalenia!!

Xavier — ୨୧

Xavier would never force you into doing anything that you're not comfortable with. He wouldn't be pushy at all. When you're ready, he's ready. But that doesn't mean he doesn't get blue balls when you make out with him :(

Your lips moving perfectly against his, his tongue caressing yours... His hands on your hips.. But it's all gone when he starts to lose his resolve and grinds his hips against yours. You pull away, Xavier mentally cursing himself for getting ahead of himself and ruining the moment.

So when he leaves your place somewhere around 10:30 pm after finishing a movie, the moment he steps into his apartment he rushes to his room to relieve himself.

He thinks about how your cunt would feel wrapped around his length, so warm and tight. Pumping his cock in his fist, pre cum seeping from his slit. He can't help but cum moaning your name.

Rafayel — ୨୧

Rafayel can be needier than most, but he always puts your comfort before his. He loves you to the point where just having your presence around him is enough to satisfy him.

So the first time you get intimate with him is very cute! Playfulness and teasing all around. Rafayel takes a more wholesome approach to things, making sure to praise you the way you deserve.

Feather light kisses, giggling and other wholesome things to lighten up the mood. Because there's one thing Rafayel doesn't want you feeling when being intimate with him, that being scared.

Zayne — ୨୧

Zayne is totally fine with you not being comfortable being intimate with him. He's a busy guy, so chased kiesses and cute dates work fine. At least that's what you see on the outside.

On the inside, he is raging with sexual frustration. He does a good job of hiding it though, taking cold showers to get rid of his sexual tension. It gets to a point where cold showers aren't cutting it anymore.

And before he knows it, he's using the spare key to you apartment. He's going through your underwear drawer, he tries to rationalize his actions. But the way you cute black lace panties feel around his cock overpowers any sanity he has left.

And if you found out? Could you really blame him? You make it hard not to loose control of his usually composed demeanor.

Sylus — ୨୧

Sylus is nothing if not patent. The time will come when you will get over your fears, the time will come when you crave him in every way he craves you.

And when that time comes, you will share the same longing Sylus has felt for lifetimes. Sylus is nothing if not gentle. Slow, soft and sensual. His hands moving all over your body, his lips fitting perfectly with yours.

He loves the way you look at him, unsure, hesitant... He loves when your face contorts in pleasure, when you realize that there was nothing to be fearful of. He loves when you depend on him for pleasure, because he's the only one you can make you feel good.

He's the only one who can make you see stars when you give him your everything.

Caleb — ୨୧

Caleb knows your scared, it's okay, he only wants the best for you. And the best thing for you is to go dumb on his cock and take his seed. Let him knock you up, he knows it's scary. But when he fucks his baby into you, everything will be okay, you'll be safe.

He'll make sure of it, you trust him right? His pipsqueak trusts her gege to make the right choice for her? Ssh ssh it's okay I know baby, just take it... Just focus on how good it feels. As he pumps his hot load into you, tears streaming down your face.

He would kiss your tears away and tell you how good you were for him, he would apologize for hurting you... He was just doing what's in your best interest, you can forgive him right?

[godmadeaterribleerror]

It's Been Calling Me

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, light angst, shameless smut (oral f receiving, p in v sex), fluff, soulmates, dreams, told over many years, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: You've had these… dreams. Strange, realistic, detailed dreams of the same man, almost your whole life. But they're just dreams. You've been so sure, for so long, that they're just dreams.

So sure, until you're not.

Author's Note: I love this one. I love using fake Marvel science logic. I love putting sad men in situations where they can't escape love. I love semi-linear storytelling. Enjoy!

Word Count: 10.9k

“I get… dreams.” You mumble, staring at an odd point over Dr. Raynor’s head. It’s always better than looking her in the eyes. “They’re weird.”

“The very nature of dreams is to be strange.” You can see the shrug of Raynor’s shoulders, hear the neural expression that must be on her face. “Although if you feel they’re worthy of note-“

“They are.” 

Raynor hums. She’s probably raising her brows. You still won’t look.

“You sound quite certain of that.”

“I am.” You tuck your knees up to your chest, frowning at the air. “It’s- They’re not new.”

“Ah.” Raynor pauses, then says your name. In the gentle but firm therapist way that you really hate. It makes you feel like a child. “This conversation may be easier if you would look at me.”

“No thanks, I’m-“

She says your name again. A little harsher. “We’ve discussed this. You’re here of your own volition-“

“That’s not true.” You mutter. “Court-ordered isn’t volition.”

“Well you could’ve chosen the inpatient ward.” Raynor’s shrugging again. “Look at me.”

You let out a long breath, and meet her gaze. You’d been right. She was raising her brows.

“Good work.” She gives you a tight-lipped smile and small nod of approval. “Tell me about these dreams.”

It takes a minute to find the words. Not because you don’t have them, but because you’d never expected to use them. You’ve rehearsed them in the mirror a million times, but they always sounded insane, and you didn’t need another reason to be called crazy.

“I’ve had them my whole life.” It’s easiest to start there. “But it’s- they’ve changed. Over time.”

“Changed how?”

“It’s hard to explain-“

“Try.”

You scowl. “I am trying, Christina, but there’s kind of a lot to say-“

Raynor sighs, giving you the patented look of disapproval that you might hate more than how she says your name. “How about telling me when they started. Is that do-able?”

It takes a long, deep breath, but you nod. “I was- I think I was ten. I fell asleep, and it was the first dream I’d ever had. The first one that I remembered when I woke up. It was…” You swallow, and there’s a sting in your nails as you rip more skin away. “Really vivid.”

——

This isn’t your body. It’s too big, too tall, and you’re not nearly strong enough to rip a door off its hinges. This body is sprinting across ice without ever breaking pace or falling flat with a crunch. You can’t even walk up stairs without tripping over thin air.

But this doesn’t really feel like a body at all. It feels like a shell, or tool. Hollow and pressed down, moving so mechanically you’d think it was a machine if you couldn’t hear its heartbeat in your ears. There’s a lot of pain in it. Strangely numb pain, as if the owner of this body doesn’t allow himself to dwell on it, shuttering it off to the side as he moves.

You’re pretty sure it's a he. There’s hair in your eyes, but men can have long hair, and when the body’s arms swing into view they’re big and muscular. You’re also pretty sure there’s something between your legs that wasn’t there when you went to sleep.

And you can feel him. Very, very deep in your head, he’s bellowing and scraping at his own scalp. He feels like a caged animal, but this is his body. He’s roaring things that are more like feral sounds than actual words, and every time he gets loud enough for you to make out a real voice something clamps down on your skull—his skull—and it all goes quiet.

You can see another man in your line of vision. He’s on his knees, trembling and begging, but the noise is muffled and static. As if there’s a filter pushing anything coherent out of your head.

A gloved fist that’s attached to your body—but not yours to control—reaches out and grabs the man by his throat. It squeezes. 

He’s desperate. Locked down and furious, the ‘he’ who you’re possessing is almost pleading with himself to stop. 

But he doesn’t. 

And there’s a sickening snap that will echo in your ears for a long time after you wake up.

——

Raynor’s looking at you like you’re insane. You don’t love it.

“Did you…” She pauses, scanning over you with a small frown. “Did you see the hand?”

You blink at her. “Yeah, I just said-“

“Without the glove.” She clarifies. “The one that snapped the man’s neck. Did you ever see it without the glove.”

It’s an oddly specific question. And she seems to be looking for a certain answer, because in all your time of working with Raynor she’s never looked so obviously invested in a story. 

“Not for a while.” You keep your words slow, watching her wearily. “He always wore the gloves. And when he didn’t, he wouldn’t look at his hands-“

Raynor frowns. “So how did you know he wasn’t wearing the gloves?” 

“Because he knew.” You shrug. “I lived in his brain like, every night.”

“Every-“

“Night, yeah. That’s what I fucking said.”

Raynor hums, and you think she’s going to grab the notebook to write something along the lines of patient has lost her goddamn mind, but she just keeps staring at you. “You said you didn’t see the hand for a while. When did you see it?”

“When I was sixteen. The first time the dreams changed.”

“Changed from-“

“Being in his head.” You pull your lip between your teeth, weighing how much you want to reveal. Too much feels like a violation of his privacy, even if they’re your dreams. He’s a private guy, it took you years to get him to tell you anything, and if you’ve realized turns out to be the truth, you don’t want to ruin anything. “It’s- it was about six years of seeing everything through his eyes-“

“Everything?”

You wish Raynor would stop saying the word every like that. Like it’s a lie.

“All the murders.” You mutter. “There were a lot of murders.”

Raynor nods for you to continue, and you have to take a long, steadying breath.

“One night I went to sleep and he was… attacking some blond guy. We couldn’t really see his face. Then I fell asleep the next night, and it was different.”

——

You can see him. You’ve never seen him before. 

He’d never looked in a mirror, or described himself in his head for you like he’s a Wattpad character. He’s only ever been a body that moves out of your will, and a pained voice deep in your brain that didn’t seemed thrilled with what was happening either. 

But you’re not in his head, or his body. You’re standing in a bathroom—in your own body, wearing the same clothing you’d been wearing when you’d crawled into bed—and looking at him. 

He’s a lot more attractive than you’d anticipated. And you’d anticipated attractive. You’d built an image in your head of your imaginary dream assassin, basing it purely on a level of hotness that would justify all the murders he’d been up to. It had been a little fucked up, but you’d also been so goddamn sure he wasn’t real. That this was just a really odd and worrying coping mechanism for all the messed up shit in your real life. 

But he seems pretty fucking real right now. And almost impossibly handsome. Strong features that look like they’d been carved from marble, an almost hulking frame that’s somehow bigger when you’re looking at it from outside, and tangled, greasy hair that’s really working with the whole tortured expression on his face.

Because he does not look okay.

He’s gripping the sink and glowering at himself, scanning over his own face like he recognizes it less than you do. He’s bent like there’s a weight on his shoulders he doesn’t know how to shake off, and that’s impressive, because you’ve seen him pick up a car. 

The porcelain of the sink cracks, and he flinches back, looking between his hands and the rubble with wide eyes.

His eyes are blue. A really pretty blue. You’d always thought blue eyes were overrated—big whoop, you’re more sensitive to light—but there’s something silver in this man’s eyes that you really love. It feels like a deep storm you’d like to chase.

He’s really pretty. 

He doesn’t seem like the type of guy who would like being called pretty, but he is. In a natural and powerful way. Like something heavenly that’s burned through the atmosphere in a dreadful fall.

Pretty face, pretty eyes, pretty hands-

Metal hand. 

One metal hand.

——

Raynor looks worried now. You wish she’d go back to thinking you’re just batshit crazy. 

“Do you-” she clears her throat, sitting a little taller in her chair. “His name. Did you ever learn his name?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Does that matter?”

“Yes.”

It’s a flat, tense answer. It makes something coil in your throat. 

“I-“ You rub your own calves, soothing yourself in the careful way you’ve always practiced. “I didn’t, for a while-“

Raynor says your name, her tone short and clipped. “Stop telling me something didn’t happen for a while. If I ask a question, it’s because I need to know the answer. Not the buildup.”

You frown. “Need to know?”

“It’s…” Raynor sighs. “It is very important that you give me a name.”

“Why?”

“Therapist reasons.”

You give her a flat look. “That’s not a real thing.”

“Yes, it is. Name.”

“If you need the name,” you say, raising your chin slightly. “You have to sit through my for a while.”

Raynor gives you a look of disbelief, shaking her head and muttering something that sounds like God, I can’t take two of them, before raising her voice. “Fine. What was for a while.”

“I couldn’t talk to him.” You explain. “For like, two years after I got out of his brain, he still couldn’t see me. When I tried to talk to him it was like I was in a- sort of a one-way mirror? And it’s not like he was just walking around telling the air I’m Bucky-“

“Bucky?” Raynor looks downright distressed. “His name was-“

“It’s Bucky.” 

He still is. He’s not a was, Bucky is.

That’s part of the problem.

“And how-“ Raynor swallows. “How did you learn this?”

“He told me.”

——

This is new. You’re not on a street or in a half-empty apartment—the two places you’ve grown most accustomed to seeing in your sleep—but in a field. A very big field with huts and brush and goats.

There are a truly staggering amount of goats.

And there he is. His hair isn’t greasy and unkempt anymore, but looks almost soft, pulled back in a half-up half-down situation that makes him look clean. His metal arm is gone, but he doesn’t seem that bothered by it. He’s standing taller than before, like the weight you’ve grown used to seeing finally has begun to lift.

His outfit is new too. It looks like something traditional and well-made, rather than the off-brand baseball hats—you too are a big fan of the American baseball team, the ‘Doggers’—and shitty polyester t-shirts.

You’re taking him and scenery in, trying to place where your brain could’ve possibly taken you this time, when he does something you’d never expected.

He turns and looks at you.

Not through you. Not around you. Not in your general direction.

At you.

He can fucking see you.

“Hello?”

You’ve heard him speak before, a few times. His voice has always been low and gruff and heavy.

It’s smooth and richer now. You don’t know if that’s because it’s directed at you—setting off small sparks over your ribs—or in relation to that vanished weight, but you like it. It suits him better.

“Hi.” You whisper, your body frozen in place as he moves forward.

He’s right in front of you. Staring at you. 

He’s always gotten prettier every time you’ve seen him. This is different.

This is knocking the air out of your lungs with just the sight of him, because there’s a light in his eyes you’ve never seen before, and it makes something deep inside of you glow.

“I’m, uh, I’m Bucky.” 

He holds out his hand, and you tilt your head at him.

“That’s a weird name.”

He blinks at you, his hand still frozen in the air. “I guess, yeah. Never thought about it. It’s just a nickname.”

“Oh.” That makes more sense. “Sorry. That’s- I just never thought you as- never mind.” 

Bucky frowns at you, opening his mouth—likely ask you what you mean by that—but you say your name and shake his hand because he gets the chance.

He has a nice hand. It warm, and calloused, and fits really well in yours. 

“Why can you see me?” You blurt, and there goes any pretense of containing the truth. 

Bucky frowns at you. “Should I… Not be able to see you?”

“You’ve never seen me before.”

“Before? What do you mean-“

“It’s- It’s weird. And complicated.”

He just stares at you, waiting for you to continue. 

You’re holding his gaze. You’ve never held anyone’s gaze before. 

It’s kind of electrifying.

“I’ve dreamt about you before.” You mumble. “And you’ve never seen me.”

“About me?”

He doesn’t sound like he believes you. You get that. It’s not really a reasonable or believable statement.

“Yeah. But you had two arms. And there weren’t goats.”

Bucky nods slowly, and seems to reach a conclusion in his brain that you don’t get to be privy to. 

It’s enough for him though. Because he gives you a small, almost nervous and apologetic smile. 

“Do you wanna, uh, do you wanna meet the goats?”

You blink at him. You’d expected more questions, or some doubt. But he’s just looking at you, something in his pretty blue eyes almost hopeful.

“Are they...” You trail off, glancing at the goats over his shoulder. “Your goats?”

“They’re community goats.” He shrugs. “But Shuri says connection with life will help my recovery, and I don’t really want to connect with people.” His voice lowers, and it sounds like he’s mostly talking to himself. “They don’t really like connecting with me.”

You don’t know who the fuck Shuri is, but you nod anyway. “So goats?”

He gives you another odd look, like he’d expected you to say something else. 

“Yeah. Goats.” 

“Did you name them?”

He frowns. “They’re goats. They don’t need names.”

You click your tongue, shaking your head. “Wrong. Everything needs a name. I named my car, and my phone.”

“You named your phone?”

“Yep.” You grin at him, and it’s a wide, teasing grin you haven’t given anyone in years. “Bertha.”

“That’s…” Bucky’s still staring at you–he seems to do that a lot—but there’s something like amusement in his eyes. “Bertha is not a good name.”

“Better than Bucky.”

He chuckles at that, and it’s a beautiful sound. Deep and heavy, like a bass drum in your chest.

It’s the sort of thing that could be addicting, if you’re not careful. Worse, it’s the sort of thing you wouldn’t mind being addicted to.

“You’re kinda mean, doll.”

“Yep.” You shrug, ignoring how ‘doll’ makes you feel fuzzy in your gut. “And I’ll be meaner if you don’t let me name your goats.”

He hums, scanning you over with an intensity in his eyes that reminds you of that storm you’d see all those years ago in the bathroom. This time, you’d like to do a little more than chase it.

You think it could be really easy to get wrecked by it. 

“Will you come back if I let you name them?”

He keeps saying things you don’t expect. Of course you’ll come back. You don’t have a choice.

But you nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Only if you promise to actually use the names.”

He nods, giving you another smile. “Deal.”

———

“Did you ever learn his last name?”

You shake your head. “I never asked. He mentioned his real name was James at one point, but then I asked why he was called ‘Bucky’ and we got off topic.”

“One… point?” Raynor’s words are slow, and you’ve really never seen her looked lost like this before. You’d be proud of yourself if it wasn’t a bad sign. “Exactly how frequently did these dreams occur?”

———

“You’re back!”

Bucky looks genuinely happy to see you. He does every night. The same surprised joy in his voice, shock always written over his face like it’s truly odd and lovely to see you here.

Like you’re not here every night, for three to four hours, standing in his little hut and wandering the fields.

You’ve worked out that you’ve put him in Africa. Wakanda specifically, likely because you’d seen it all over the news and it seemed pretty interesting. Shuri was the princess, and the guy T’challa Bucky had mentioned a few times was the King. You’d almost certainly heard their names during all those UN conferences—the ones you put on in the background just to hear some noise that wasn’t ringing in your ears—and your brain had just decided to run with it.

At least, you think it’s just your brain. You’ve always assumed this was all in your brain, because this feels like the exact kind of fucked up shit your brain would pull. And Bucky never aged. He’d never really changed, for six years. He’d had just been another way to cope for the longest time, but now—as you actually get to know him—he seems dangerously like a real person.

He looks like he broods less than when you see him hunched over a toilet or glowering at his reflection in a window. His appearance has started to shift in a way it never really had.

The metal arm has permanently departed. He seems fond of keeping his hair out of eyes, and his wardrobe finally has diversity. He talks to you, and he has a personality. An adorable, grumpy, endearing personality that would play into your idea of ‘made up in your brain’ if he couldn’t be so annoying.

He stares. He grunts a lot. He doesn’t get any of your references. If you made up an imaginary dream man to feel more loved, he would like all the things you like and hate all the things you hate.

But he doesn’t.

And it always draws you in further, because he truly does seem like just a perfectly insufferable asshole. 

That’s cruel. He’d been right. You could be mean. 

He never seemed to mind.

And he’s more like a dog anyway. One that escaped the pound and follows you around, not even bothering to beg for scraps because you offer them with a grin.

You like his company. You like his voice. You like that he’s annoying and you like more that it’s your exact type of annoying.

You like that he’s really fucking hot, and get hotter every time you visit. 

You mostly just like him.

“Of course I’m back.” You shrug, kicking a rock with the tip of your foot, watching it bounce through the dirt. “I’m always back.”

“Yeah. So far.” You see Bucky shrug in your periphery, and when you look up, he’s staring again. “Could change.”

“Won’t change.” You counter, giving him a pointed look. “Sorry, Buck. You’re stuck here until I die.”

That’s the first time you’ve called him Buck. He tenses for a moment, seems to shake something physically off his body, and nods slowly.

“Should I be worried about you dying?”

“Not right now, no.” You hum. Another rock gets kicked. “Death doesn’t agree with me.”

He chuckles. “Don’t think it agrees with anyone, doll-“

“Shut up.” Third rock. This one hits a goat, and you cringe slightly. “Shit. Sorry, Bubble McBubbleface-“

“Bubs will be.” Bucky rolls his eyes, moving to your side. He’s standing really close. You can almost feel a phantom heat from his body. “And I still can’t believe you talked me into that name. I had to tell the king of the damn country that his goat was named Bubble McBubbleface.”

You giggle, and Bucky shoots you a glare.

“You think that’s funny? I had to like pretend it was my idea,” he grumbles your name, and you always like how he says it. Like it’s some sort of answer. “I had to look the council of elders in the eyes and tell them that Bubble McBubbleface got Lady Gaga pregnant-“

Your eyes widen. “You let the goats get pregnant?”

“Course I let them get pregnant, doll.”

“But-“

He gives you a dry, amused look. “Would you rather I interfere? You want me to cockblock Bubs?”

You blink at him. “You know what cockblock means?”

Your brain had given him the personality of an eighty-year-old man. You don’t know why, but you stopped asking questions like “why” and “what” a long time ago. You just know that he shouldn’t know what cockblock means, for consistency.  

“Of course I know what it means. You taught it to me.” He winks at you, and you’re pretty sure you’re flushing.

This is meant to be a dream. You shouldn’t be able to flush, or feel a little flutter and hum in your heart, or something molten in your gut when he leans a little further forward to grin down at you.

This seems less like a dream every night.

You’d be worried about that if you had the energy, or foresight, or care.

“Are goats births gross?” You ask, and he chuckles again. The sound has started to inflict a sort of high on your brain, and every color in this dreamworld seems brighter. 

“They’re fucking disgusting.” He leans a little further down. You have to stare at his nose to pretend the proximity isn’t going to make your fall over. “But if you let me show you one in here, I’ll let you name the babies out there.”

You nod kind of stupidly, the whole world shifts into a barn—goat births are disgusting, but Bucky gets a look of intense focus you’d like to see re-aimed in your direction—and four months later Bucky tells you little Oz The Great and Powerful, Donald Duck, and Pants McPantsface have been welcomed into the world.

———

“So you’d see him in… Wakanda.” Raynor takes another long breath. If you didn’t think it would make everything worse, you’d tell her to try some deep breathing exercises. “Did the location ever change? Did you witness any more of those murders from before?”

You feel something spark in your chest like an electric wire, and you sit a little taller. You haven’t seen Bucky kill anyone since you’d been trapped in his brain. He’s a good man. And, as far as Raynor knows, a figment of your imagination. She has no right to fucking imply-

“It’s important that I know,” she says slowly, and you think your oddly blinding and righteous anger had been painted all over your face. “So I better understand what’s been happening to you. Please,” she says your name, leaning somehow further forward in her seat. “Answer my questions.”

You nod, letting out a slow exhale. “No murders. But he did start coming into my brain.”

Raynor frowns at you. “Was he not always-“

“Not like this.”

———

“This is new.”

You whip around, taking a stumbling step back that would’ve landed you on the floor, had Bucky not looped his one arm around your waist.

“Hey, doll. Pleasure seeing you-“ He frowns, glancing around your apartment. “Where the hell am I?”

You don’t answer, only reaching up to touch his face. His beard is soft. His hair is softer. When you trace the line of his nose it does feel like a nose, and when you poke his cheek it seems pretty cheek-like- 

“What, uh,” Bucky say your name, scanning over your face with concern. “What’s happening here.”

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You whisper, poking his cheek again. Just to be sure. “You’ve never been here before.”

“Yeah, figured that one out myself-“

“No.” You shake your head, placing one hand on his chest. It fits well there, slotting right over muscle and warm skin. Every part of him seems to fit perfectly against you, and you’ve never been this close before, but you don’t have any urge to move away. “You don’t get it, Bucky. You’ve never been here. It’s been ten years, and you’ve never been here.”

“I know, doll. Doesn’t seem like there’s much to-“ He pauses, giving you an odd look. “Ten years?”

“Yeah.” You mumble. There’s not much else to say.

He just stares at you, and shakes his head slightly. “Huh. You gonna tell me where I am?”

“My apartment.”

“Your-“ He starts slightly, but you never shake in his arms. “You live in this place?”

You nod, and he pulls you to your feet, scanning over your home. 

The silence wraps around your heart and lungs, and the room is spinning slightly. You’re asleep. You’re pretty fucking sure you’re asleep. You locked the door, turned off the lights, and crawled into bed, so you’re asleep. Bucky’s never been here before, but he’s not really here because this is a dream and he’s not real.

You think. 

You wouldn’t bet on that anymore, though.

And nothing has ever been as important as Bucky liking your room, because the longer he just scans over the space around you the more your skin heats, the more your eyes blur, the more your throat constricts and your heart aches and pounds-

“It’s very… you.” He finally says, and every bit of nerve vanishes into the air.

He’s right. You’ve been very deliberate in making sure your home is yours.

And you’re not sure why you bothered worrying at all. He fits here, just as well as he fits in every other part of you.

“Can I get the grand tour?” He raises his brows, and you nod, leading him through your space, making jokes and feeling your heart do a little flip and spin whenever he chuckles.

And things always do change. Frequently out in the real world, and carefully and easily in here.

And at least with Bucky, the change seems adaptive. You grow, he grows with you, until you’re twined and rooted into each other, and every color in this dreamscape is so vivid it’s the only thing that still tells you:

None of this is real.

��——

“It was split after that.” You say. ”Half the dreams in Wakanda, half in New York.” 

You’re watching Raynor carefully. Still on the edge of her seat, legs braced like she’s ready for a fight, a tight expression on her face that Bucky calls the moose in headlights expression.

———

“You got that moose expression again, doll.”

You frown at him. “Stop calling it that, it’s just my face-“

“No. Your normal face has a dimple here, and your brows rest like that.”

He’s touching you as he explains, moving your features to match his words. You’d smack his hand away if his touch wasn’t soothing and flaring all at once. If you didn’t really love the idea of him looking at you long enough to know exactly how to adjust your face, and how to be right about it.

“But it’s not like that now.” He finishes, giving you a pointed look. “You got moose-face.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Moose-face is worse, Bucky. And it’s still not a real thing-“

“Yeah it is. Most people got a moose face.” He shrugs. He’s staring again. It’s taking a lot of effort not to melt forward into him. “Tight expression. Like a deer in headlights, but they think they’re too good to be in the headlights. They’re gonna go down fighting.”

“Oh.” You tilt your head, giving him a sickly-sweet smile. “Can I see your moose face?”

“I don’t have a moose face-“

“Liar.” You poke his ribs, narrowing your eyes. “You said everyone has one-“

“I said ‘most people.’” Bucky shrugs. “Moose face means you’re gonna get hit, you just don’t believe it yet. I know how to not get hit.”

“Sounds like something someone with a moose-face would say.”

He chuckles. You’re sitting down, and you’re going to fall over. “No luck, doll. I got other faces, but no moose face.” He frowns at the air. “Never could afford to have one.”

There’s suddenly something heavier in his eyes, and it makes your whole body feel wired and heavy. It’s suffocating and crushing and rotten, and it’s just an expression but everything feels worse when you see it—when his shoulders hunch and his face becomes set like stone, just like all those years ago in the bathroom—so it needs to stop right now. 

“What about a wolf face?”

Bucky blinks at you. “What.”

“You said no moose face.” You cross your arms, raising your chin slightly. “Do you have a wolf face?”

“I don’t know what that is-“

“So suddenly you’re the only one who’s allowed to make up expressions?”

You hold is gaze for a long second—you’ve gotten really good at doing that, but only when you’re dreaming of Bucky—until his lips twitch slightly.

And everything feels alright again.

———

“How much of New York appeared in your… dreams? Was is like Wakanda, where you wandered?”

You frown at the air. Raynor’s indulging in this, but not like you’d hoped. Not shutting you down or telling you that you’re crazy. You’d really hoped to hear some validation that you were just plain crazy.

“Not really. I mean, there was one night where we were at my job, a few at the coffee shop I usually go to, and maybe like, five at the park, but we were mostly my apartment when I was showing him stuff.”

“And what did you-“ Raynor’s whole body tenses, and the last part of her question is pushed through her teeth. “What did you show Bucky?”

You flush, your gaze dropping down to your hands. “Stuff. In my apartment.”

———

You don’t know exactly what gives. What straw completely desolates every single bone in your body, and ends with you here.

Maybe it was that you’d finally mentioned all the murders, and you’d never seem him look horrified before, but the sight has dislodged something along your ribs that hadn’t mended until he let you move his head to your lap. Stroking his hair as he stared at you, telling him about your day.

Maybe it’s that you always tell him about your day. That this—whatever this is—has shifted from trading teasing comments and trying to learn about each other, into pure and comfortable understanding, and now that’s how most nights are spent.

Bucky’s reports are short. The goats are being goats—that’s all they know how to do—he doesn’t like a song someone tried to make him listen to because it’s too loud, and Shuri brought him some food that made his face feel like it was going to fall off, but in a good way. You pretty sure he only gives them because you insist upon it, but he always puffs out his chest a little at the end, when you smile at him and start to tell him everything you can remember about your own day.

Maybe it’s how he always hangs onto your every word. Like it’s gospel or scripture, and to do anything but listen and watch would be a higher sin than any blood you’ve imagined on his hands.

And maybe that’s it. 

Maybe it’s how you really don’t believe it anymore, when you remind yourself that he’s not real. That he’s just a figment of your mind, manifested to evolve as you do and always be exactly what you need. 

You still tell yourself the lie, night after night.

But you’re certain it’s a lie. That Bucky is just like that. Meant to be here, with you, the exact same way you’re supposed to be wherever he is.

And now you’re here.

You’d started it. You’d slammed your mouth to his, and he hadn’t moved. There had been a brief moment where you’d been worried you’d made a mistake, but the second you’d tried to push back on his chest and apologize, he’d kicked into gear. 

And wet dreams are supposed to be hazy. Cast in a misting light and more of a halo that brings your body high than an actual, nameable feeling.

But you can really feel this. 

And it’s heaven.

You’d expected Bucky to kiss slowly. Deliberately. It’s how you’d always seen him move and speak, and you hadn’t been against the idea of being kissed in a methodical and careful way.

You’ve never been happier to be wrong.

Bucky kisses you like you’re air and water and every good thing in the world. All passion and spit and burning desire, where you can feel every bit of want in his movements. His mouth is demanding as he traces his tongue over your teeth and groans your name down your throat, his arm snaking around your waist to hold you steady against his chest. When his knee presses between your thighs you have to wrap your arms around his neck for balance, and it’s all you can do to return ever bit of want he throws at you as he walks to backwards to your mattress.

It takes effort to pry your mouth from Bucky’s. He doesn’t want you to go, even a few inches, and when you start to palm him through his pants—smiling against his lips and squeezing his bulge in a silent request—he hisses against your lips.

“You-“ He groans, nipping at your lower lip as you smile, repeating the movement. “You don’t- Shit, doll, you don’t know what you’re doing to me-“

You hum, bumping your nose with his and swaying in his hold. “Maybe. I’d like to do more.”

Bucky chuckles, and the sound rolls right into your core. “Think you could take more, sweetheart? Cause I’ve been a gentleman, but if more is on the table-“

It’s easy to cut him off with a heavy, deep kiss that has him half growling down your throat and his hips jerking against your movements.

“Want more.” You whisper, combing your free hand through his hair and trying to pull yourself impossibly closer. “Want you.”

Bucky tenses against you, and when you lean back to meet his eyes he’s staring again. Looking at you like you’re glowing, kneading your skin under his hand like he’s checking that you’re not going to vanish. 

“You want me.” He mutters, scanning over your flushed face. “You sure about-“

“Yes.” You nod, giving him a small, soft smile. “Only if you do, obviou-“

Bucky cuts you off with another bruising kiss, and before you know what’s happening he’s lowering you onto the mattress, kneeling between your legs, and shoving your thighs apart with a wolf-like grin.

You don’t know when you ended up naked. You can’t really care though, because Bucky shoves his face right into your pussy, and your mind empties of all thoughts that aren’t his name. 

It’s another point in favor of this being a dream. Bucky’s mouth against your cunt feels so amazingly real—licking and biting and eating you out like he’s been starved for a hundred years—but this has to be a dream, because no real man has ever made you feel this good. He knows every single way the plunge his tongue in and out of your pussy until you’re squeezing your thighs around his head and tugging at his hair, and his beard scrapes and tickles at your thighs in a way that’s driving you out of your mind, and fuck, he keeps moving his attention to nip at your clit, sucking it between his lips and letting his teeth graze against you, and-

“Bucky-“ You moan, grinding shameless into his face, trying hopelessly to remain upright with one hand, your fingers fisted into the sheets below you. “Please- I’m gonna- Fuck, I’m so close-“

He growls against you, flatting his tongue against your clit and squeezing his hand on your thigh, and that does it. You cum with a scream of his name, warmth washing over your body as your knees clamp around him and your eyes roll back in your head.

He’s ruined you. All Bucky did was eat you out in a dream, and you’re panting and flushed and drunk on him. You don’t know how you’ll manage to move on from this in real life.

You don’t really care. Not as Bucky runs his hand over your dripping, fluttering cunt with a look of open awe on his face, presses a kiss right over your clit that makes your hips jerk, and moves to his feet.

He’s naked now too. 

And he’s perfect. 

His cock is big and thick, standing at proud attention and jerking slightly as you run a hand up his thighs, your fingers trailing over his balls and a little drool falling out of your lips as you lean to take him in your mouth-

Bucky’s hand tangles in your hair, pulling you back to meet his eyes.

He looks just as wrecked as you feel. Chest heaving and eyes blown with lust. You’re going to lose your mind.

“Bucky-“

“Not now.” He mutters, pulling you a little further back. “Need to be inside of you, doll. Please.”

You’d have to be insane to say no.

You crawl back on the mattress, spreading your legs in silence invitation, and something hot and powerful flashes in his eyes as he takes you in. 

“You-“

“I’m sure.” You squirm in the sheets, running your hand between your legs and starting to rub your clit in slow, strong circles. “God, I’m so fucking sure, please-“

He’s shockingly fast for such a large man. It might be the whole dream thing, but you barely register him moving to kneel over you, swatting your hand away with a darkened gaze a set jaw.

“I do that,” he grunts, running two fingers up and down your cunt, smirking at you high whine. “Legs open, doll, want to see how wet I’m making you.”

You nod, falling flat on your back, and pour all your focus into his order. “Fuck, Bucky-“ He shoves the fingers into your pussy, and your back arches off the bed. “Shit- I- Please-“

“You want my cock?” He drawls your name, and you can only nod dumbly at the ceiling. “Come on, tell me you want it-“

“Want it,” you gasp, hugging your body as he starts to pump his finger, crooking them at the exact right spot deep inside of you. “Fuck, Bucky, you said- You said you’d fuck me-“

He clicks his tongue. “I said I’d be inside of you-“

“But- But I want you to fuck me.” You start to roll your hips as his pace picks up. “Please, Bucky-“

You whine as his fingers vanish, leaving you clenching around only the air, but it’s a short-lived pain.

Bucky slams into you with one thrust, and you’d been wrong again.

He hadn’t ruined you. He’s destroyed you.

You’ve never been so full in your life. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life. With a fervor that should be painful, but just makes you feel wanted. Cared for. Bucky’s every thrust is brutal and rough, and his mouth on yours is that same feral kiss from before, but he’s pressed his body over yours like he’s trying to shield you from the world, and he’s groaning your name down your throat like it’s a hymn.

You’d say his name too, if you could remember how to speak. But Bucky’s hitting every right spot deep in your pussy, and you’re so high the world is just color and light and Bucky, and when he starts to suck and kiss a line down your throat, along your collarbone, and over your tits, you’re sure you’re going to fly out of your skin.

Then he takes your nipple into his mouth, and the sound you make is almost inhuman. Your release crashes over you like a wave, Bucky groans against your breast as you squeeze around his cock, and a burning warmth coats your thighs and cunt as he cums with a roar.

You make a small noise of content as Bucky pulls out, kissing a soft line back up your jaw before dropping his brow to yours and letting out a long, slow breath.

“That was…” He trails off, moving his hand to hold your hips, drawing firm patterns with his thumb that might drive you out of your mind.

“Yeah.” You whisper. “It was.”

He nods, and neither of you move for a really long time. Usually you’ve woken up by now, but no part of you is eager to go, eager to leave where there’s still a little buzz in your heart from the pleasure, where you can feel a perfect ache between your legs and you’re so happily trapped under the warmth of Bucky’s body-

Happy. 

You’re happy. 

This isn’t real, but under Bucky’s body you’re safe and warm and happy. And you don’t want to go. 

Almost as if he can read your mind, Bucky clears his throat.

“Thank you.” He mutters, his breath hot and soft over your ear. “Needed this.” There a long pause, and his hand squeezes on your hips. “Needed you. And I know it’s dumb to thank you, because-“

“It’s not.” You cut him off with a kiss to his neck, rubbing your hand up and down his back. “And I needed you too.”

He lets out a dry laugh that you don’t understand, but doesn’t push on it. Just kisses your brow and rolls onto his back, taking you with him and clinging to you like you’re a tether to something a little more important than just a dream.

And you really don’t know why he’d laughed. 

You do need him. You’re growing more and more certain every night that you need Bucky more than you need anything in real life. That he’s more than anyone else, and that he maybe, possibly, could be real.

He feels real, beneath you with a calloused hand squeezing at your skin and your finger tracing over the scars near his arm. 

He sounds real, when you finally ask why he only has one arm, and he takes a very long breath but mutters that he fell off a train. When he tells you that bad people found him, and he wasn’t really the best guy either, for a really long time. 

He tastes real when you kiss him for comfort, and smells real when you bury your face in his neck as he continues. 

You know he’s not telling you everything, but you also know he’s not lying. 

And you really do know that, in some strange and impossible way, this might be real.

———

“I see.” Raynor swallows, and she won’t stop staring at you. “Did those, ah, occurrences happen again?”

You nod, staring at your hands. “Pretty much every time after.” A smile tugs at your lips. “One time we used the barn.”

“I-“ Raynor sighs. “Understood. How long, exactly, did this continue?”

“They never stopped, not until-“ Your nails dig into your skin, and a heavy stone lodges itself in your throat. “The, uh, the blip.”

———

These have been the worst five years of your life. And they haven’t been amazing for anyone, but no one else has to feel this like you do.

And that’s selfish. A little narcissistic. Incredibly crude.

But it doesn’t make it any less true.

Because everyone lost people. Everyone watched loved ones vanish right in front of them, witnessed the world fall and crumble around them as half of humanity vanished, and got left in the rubble to pick up the pieces. 

But no one else seems to feel this. Nobody else seems to be falling apart at the seams from nothing at all like you are. Because Bucky was probably never real. But he’s gone. 

And you don’t know how to move on.

It’s odd to grieve a dream. It makes living impossible. You go to all the support groups and listen to everyone share their own pain, and it makes your heart ache for them but nothing in you ever seems to heal. It’s as if a piece of you had been ripped out and ground to ash, and mending over it would be blasphemous. You don’t want to fix it. You need to, because this is no way to exist, but it feels wrong every time you try. As if even your body can’t just admit he’s gone, and you need to keep going. But everything feels artificial. Every breath is mechanical, and every beat of your heart feels shallow and deliberate, like it’s only doing just enough to keep you alive.

What’s worse is that you can’t tell anyone why you’ve become a sunken, hollow shell. You’d sound insane. You’re already not winning any points in the sound of mind department, and you do have a record, so if you went to one of the countless therapists who have been making their living off of everyone’s loss and said ‘see, doctor, the person I loved only existed in my dreams, but he vanished with the snap and now it feels like I’ve been cleaved in half’, you’d be locked up in an asylum.

You hate that you’re only realizing it now. That the overwhelming sense of warmth and peace you felt in your dreams with Bucky was love. That you’d fallen in love with a piece of your own mind. You’d basically fallen in love with your reflection. Your annoying, handsome, grumpy reflection that you’d rip your spine out of your body to reshape it back into his form, to bring him back to your side.

And the dreams still happen. He’s just not there, and it’s the worst thing in the fucking universe. You keep coming back to a forest, and there’s a little ash that’s always drifting around in the air, that feels really important.

It all always feels like more than just Bucky being gone. It feels like you’ve missed a train, or taken a wrong turn, and lost a key that double as a compass, and now you’re stranded at the bottom of the ocean. 

Alone. 

You’ve spent your whole life with only yourself to rely on, but you’ve never felt more alone.

———

“And after the blip?”

“He came back.” You’re going to cry. You really hate crying in front of Raynor—she always tells you it’s going to be okay, and you fucking know that—but you can’t stop it. Because Bucky really did come back, and it’s still the best thing that ever happened to you.

———

During the past five years, your sleep has gotten fucked. You get about four hours a night, because that’s just long enough to keep you functional but too short to allow you to appear in the forest.

So it took a while to pass out. You’d curled up in your bed, drank tea, done yoga, followed every ‘how to fall asleep fast’ internet guide until your eyes drooped, and you were gone.

When the dream takes shape around you, you’re not in the forest, but in a sleek, hospital-like room that you don’t recognize. 

And he’s there. 

Bucky’s right fucking there.

You make a small, choked sound, and his eyes shoot to yours in an instant. 

He’s moving in a second. Half launching across the room to grab you before your knees give out, holding you to his chest as you cling to his shirt and press your face into his neck. 

“Hey,” he mutters your name, and you can hear the low horror in it. He’s putting together why you’re crying. Why you’re scratching at his neck and trying to half climb up his body. “You’re alright. It’s all good, doll, everything’s good now-“

You cut him off with a long, heavy kiss, and his hand moves to cup your head. 

He has two hands again. You don’t really care why.

Because Bucky’s rubbing circles on the skin of your waist, and letting you cry without making a big fucking deal about it, and nothing mended. Nothing’s ever mended. You’ve been a little fucking broken for a long time, with or without Bucky. But it had been a kind of broken that had folded and shaped with him, and when he’d been gone it was like half your organs had been frozen and crumbled in your body.

But he’s back. And you feel real again.

———

There’s a long silence in the air, and you know what’s coming. The question. You’ve known she’s going to ask it the whole time—you’d honestly expected it a lot sooner—and you’ve been prepared. You have a very long speech about how Bucky had changed again—short hair, kept the new arm, appearing in his own, mostly empty apartment and trading the Wakandan clothing for jeans and jackets—and that he’d told you how much he hated some guy named John. 

He’d said he despised the asshole. That he was everything Steve had hated—you’d had a pretty good idea who Steve was, based on context and a theory but you hadn’t be quite ready to it yet—and nothing sounded better than punching his lights out. 

And you’re ready to explain that you’d had the news on in the background, a few words had broken from static background noise, and your whole world had shifted. John Walker had been announced as the new Captain America, they’d run a stupid little fluff piece on the life of Steve Rogers, and there was Bucky. Captain America’s best friend and ally, the assumed cause of that whole the Avengers are breaking up thing, and the former Winter Solider. 

You’d mostly stared at the screen for a really long time as everything feel into place—you’d looked him up after, and it was a little embarrassing it had taken you this long given that he has a Wikipedia page—before calling Raynor, and preparing for the question.

But when she asks it, your mind goes blank, and all you can’t think to say is the truth.

“May I ask,” Raynor says carefully. ”Why are you only discussing this now?”

“Because he’s real.”

———

Bucky has dreams. Not nightmares.

Dreams.

He dreams about Her. She’s the only constant in his life, the only solace and purely good thing he knows, and She’s not even damn real.

Bucky’s pretty sure She’s not real. It wouldn’t make any sense for Her to be real. He’d spent most of the years assuming that She was simply a result of him being able to dream again, a trick of his mind that was both a comfort and a torture, because he needed those dreams—needed Her, in a strange way that lived in his chest and was soft on his skin—more than he’d ever needed anything, but they also reminded him of what he’d never have.

A life in a simple apartment, filled with his own presence in a way that was easy. He always loved that about Her apartment. How everywhere he looked, She was there. The colors and furniture and posters and trinkets on the shelves all screamed Her, and no one could ever replicate that if they tried. 

He didn’t know how to do that anywhere. How to just be him in a way that didn’t feel like something was strangling him. His apartment was barren. Every time he spoke it felt like he should be apologize immediately after, because barely anyone seemed to like him, let alone want to hear him.

Bucky understood that. He wasn’t exactly his own biggest fan, and the only time there was no part of him trying to escape his own body was when he was asleep, and She was at his side. 

He liked being himself with Her. It was simple, and natural, and never a labor. She never flinched away from him—She seemed to like being close to him—and Bucky never really wanted to wake up. Part of him always hoped that this time, when he fell asleep and She appeared once more, he’d wake up in Her apartment, and it would all be real.

A very small part of him needed this—needed Her—to be real. It would be really amazing if She was real. It wasn’t something he deserved to ask for, to plead with the universe about, but he did. He kept trying to come up with reasons She could be real.

She felt real, in his dreams. She spoke and acted like a person, and not a doll or shell his brain may have created to get him through his de-programming. She was always saying things and making references he didn’t get until she explained them, things he was certain he hadn’t heard in passing. She was way prettier than anyone Bucky had ever seen, which would contribute to Her being only a dream if he wasn’t so certain that he simply wasn’t that creative.

He could imagine a pretty girl.

He couldn’t imagine Her.

Smart and funny and gorgeous, fitting against him like She’d been molded to, teasing him in ways he’d never thought of and kind to him ways he couldn’t be kind to himself. 

She was never disgusted by the arm, and Bucky was sure that—if She was only a part of his mind given shape—she would know about the whole Winter Soldier thing. But he’d had to explain all he could to Her, and when he’d left certain, darker parts out She hadn’t said but that’s not the truth, is it, James.

She seemed to like Bucky. That was the most concrete proof he had that She had to somehow be real. Nobody liked him. Not in to raw, unrelenting way She did.

So She had to be real.

Bucky really hoped, against all odds, that she was real. 

It would fix a lot of problems if She was real. Sam kept trying to get him to date, and he didn’t want to. He always felt like he was betraying Her. It wasn’t sustainable or logical, but logic didn’t really matter here, because Bucky’s gut would wither and his hands would curl into fists every time he had to try and flirt with another woman. They didn’t fit against him as well as She did. Their teasing would either bite too hard or not bite at all, and the night would end with Bucky falling back into Her arms. 

He asked Shuri—very vaguely, he didn’t want his brain to be poked and prodded again—what reoccurring dreams could mean.

“Reoccurring?” She’d frowned at him over the video call. “You’ll have to clarify, reoccurring can mean many things.”

“Uh,” Bucky had swallowed, glancing at his mattress across the room. “A dream you have every night. And it could change, but it’s always the same person in it?”

Shuri had given him an odd look. “Have you been having a dream like that?”

“No.” His answer had been too fast. He needed to keep it together if he was going to sell this. “Sam has. He mentioned that he kept seeing some lady in his dreams, and she felt real but he’d never met her before. Thought I’d do him a favor and ask about it.”

It wasn’t the best lie he’d ever told, if Shuri look of doubt had been any indication. But she bit, and kept moving.

“Well, it looks as if Sam,” she’d given him a pointed look, and Bucky had forced his face to remain completely neutral. “Has found his soulmate.”

Bucky had stared at her for a really long time. His vision had blurred, there had been a ringing in his ears, and time had seemed to still as Shuri���s words sank in.

Soulmate.

“I thought, uh,” Bucky had cleared his throat, his voice a little hoarse. “Soulmates aren’t real-“

“Of course they’re real.” Shuri had shrugged. “Soulmate is an archaic term for two brains that emit the exact same neuroelectricity, their nerve paths aligning completely. Often they will have differing personalities and lives, but the tie of the biology will link them in sleep, and they will experience incredibly vivid lucid dreams. Like this video conference, but if our minds and bodies were built to fall in love with each other. It is rare, but not impossible.”

Bucky had frowned. “But I- uh, Sam said he’s only had these dreams about four years-“

“Sam’s brain underwent severe rewiring and torment.” Shuri’s voice had been dry, her expression flat. “He would do well to remember that his connection may have been slightly mauled, and only after a certain genius princess fixed him would he have been able to reciprocate the bond fully.”

Oh.

The first time Bucky had appeared in Her apartment, She had said ten years. When She’d appeared to him for the very first time, She’d said she’d dreamt of him before.

Bucky had assumed that had been another way his brain was comforting him. Telling him he could be the type of person a pretty girl like Her dreamed about.

But when he thought about it—clenched his jaw and drew up the heavier, blood-stained memories of the Soldier—there had sometimes been someone in his body with him. Not the Soldier, but the third presence that wasn’t hostile. Wasn’t really foreign. Just was. 

“Could the-“ Bucky had swallowed, watching Shuri carefully as he spoke. “Sam said he could sometimes feel the gal while he was awake. Is that a thing that could happen?”

“If Sam was not himself, and the soulmate was not of full maturity, yes.”

Bucky had felt himself pale. “What do you mean, full maturity-“

“You are a hundred years old, Mr. Barnes.” Shuri had raised her brows, and all pretense of Sam had dropped. “There would have naturally been a point where your soulmate was a child, as that is how most people begin their lives. It is likely that you were still under the control of Hydra in your soulmate’s youth, and she would have only been a growing presence in your mind until she was a full person, and you were no longer only the shell of a man I met after my father’s death.”

“So she- Would she have seen what I did? As the Solider?”

He knew She had. She’d told him She had.

Bucky still didn’t want it to be true.

Shuri had given him a sympathetic look. “Unfortunately, yes. She would have. But if she is what you say, she is a perfect match to you in every way. She will not care what you were before, under the control of Hydra.”

“But-“

“It is not something worth protesting, Bucky.” Shuri had sighed, leaning a little closer to the camera. “This is not something that can be severed or changed, so please do not bother to ask. And remember that she is real. Her own person, with her own pain. I would recommend you attempt to find her, but that is something you will have to decide for yourself.”

And now he was here. Staring at the dark screen where Shuri’s face had been moments before, his head still spinning around the word. 

Soulmate.

She’d made is sound scientific. Possible. Bucky could have a soulmate. 

He didn’t deserve a soulmate. Not one he’d likely trapped in his mind, forced to witness the brutal atrocities he’d committed as the Winter Solider.

And he wanted to find Her. Bucky wanted to touch Her and kiss her and keep her longer than just the night. To wake up and see Her next to him, tangible and all his. 

He’d liked the idea of something being his in a way that wasn’t a curse. In a way he could throw his all right back to Her, and she’d catch it. 

But there was still the sour, molding feeling over his heart that—since She was real, and probably had Her own issues to deal with—She wouldn’t want him in her life. Not Her real life, where everything was more complicate than just them in a literal dream.

He shouldn’t find Her. She’d be better off without him. Bucky would do nothing but make Her life more complicated, and he could get through this know that She was real and safe, far away from him but still haunting his dreams in the best way possible.

He was so lost in his head he misses the first phone call. And the second one.

It was the third one that got his attention—buzzing and ringing on the table next to his computer, Dr. Raynor flashing across the screen—and the fourth one he actually managed to pick up.

Bucky didn’t bother to hide the tension in his voice when he spoke. He really didn’t have the time or energy for this, not right now. “Doc, I’m not due back for another four days-“

“I’m aware, James, I keep a calendar.” Raynor sighed through the speaker, and Bucky had never heard her sound so tense. It was a little concerning. “However, I am going to have to request you come in today. It’s an emergency.”

He scowled. “What emergency, I haven’t done anything emergency worthy-“

“It’s not only about you.” Raynor snapped. “And I’m changing it from a request to an order. Office in twenty minutes.” There was a long pause, and then a whispered, “Please.”

That wasn’t good.

“Did I get in trouble?” Bucky asked, his grip on the phone tightening. “Cause I’ve been following all the stupid rules, and if Sam says I did something he’s just being a dramatic dick-“

Raynor sighed, and Bucky could picture the thin look of exhaustion on her face. “You are not in trouble, James. It’s not- I can’t explain over the phone. It may be better for you to see.”

“See what?”

“Just come to the fucking office.”

Bucky blinked, and the line went dead.

Raynor couldn’t make him go. But he also had never heard her swear like that. Or order him to come in before an appointment.

He was a little curious. And it wasn’t like he had anything else to do today but drown in the knowledge of what Shuri had told him, trying to work out how he’d face Her tonight.

So he went to the office. Chances are it was nothing. Bucky couldn’t imagine it would be something. He spent the whole ride trying to think of an idea, came up blank, and decided that Sam had mentioned something to Raynor about how Bucky had been brooding more than usual, and he was just going to have to explain the whole I’m not brooding, I’m just sick of Sam’s blind date bullshit and also maybe have a soulmate thing. Then he’s kick Sam’s ass, and everything would be fine.

Bucky entered to office with a whole speech ready. His chin raised high and his arms crossed, because he was already having a very weird and complex day, and he didn’t need this. 

All the words were knocked out of him the moment he opened the door, glanced around the room, and saw who was on the couch.

Her.

In person. 

Very, very real, and in Raynor’s office, and here.

Raynor said Her name. The name Bucky knew Her by, and her last name. 

It was a nice last name. Barnes would suit Her better, but the idea that she was real enough to have a last name was already bringing Bucky to his knees, so he’d have to save that thought for later.

“Meet James Barnes.” Raynor was probably looking between them. Bucky couldn’t be sure though, because he couldn’t stop staring at Her.

She was moving to Her feet, and seeing Her in person was somehow even better. She was sharper around the edges, and more colorful in small, bright ways, and nothing about Her felt like it could ever slip between Bucky’s fingers.

She wasn’t mist. She wasn’t an illusion, or a coping mechanism.

She was real.

Walking towards him with wide eyes and an open mouth, reaching a hand up to poke at his face. Tracing his nose and running fingers over his cheekbones, Her eyes never leaving his.

Bucky caught Her hand right as it brushed over his lips, and She made the prettiest gasp he’d ever heard.

“You’re real.” He said, because it was all he could think of. Nothing about this was a dream. Bucky would not have a dream where Raynor was watching him restrain himself from kissing Her until she collapsed in his arms.

“I’m real.” She whispered, and Her voice was better in real life too. “You’re here.”

He nodded. “I’m here.” He paused, scanning over Her open features. “Don’t think I’m going anywhere, doll.”

Her face split into a wide smile, all teeth and light and joy. For Bucky. 

There was adoration on Her face, and it was all for Bucky.

“Good.” Her smile grew, Her fingers tangling with his metal ones. “Because I’m not either.”

End Note: Save me Bucky Barnes raising goats. Bucky Barnes raising goats, save me.

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[softestqueeen]

prompt: "Oh? Does that turn you on?" a/n: sub!spencer lives in my head rent free. i hope you like it, enjoy <3 so, this is a repost beacause the original post got literally 0 notes and i want to see if tumblr is the issue or if it was really my writing 😭 original post + request warings:18+ MDNI!!, smut, pet names, hand job, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink pairing: sub!spencer reid x dom!reader I 979 words special prompts I special masterlist

You were standing in the kitchen of your boyfriends flat. Spencer Reid could do a lot of things and knew how to do even more things, but the one thing he never quite mastered, was cooking.

By no means were you a good chef, but you knew you way around a kitchen and could whip up a few meals. Which is why you were currently in Spencers kitchen, showing him how to do a simple lasagna.

"And that's how you do the layers. The key is to stay consistent and make the layers even. Now you go ahead and try, Spence."

Your boyfriend didn't enjoy the cooking as much as the close proximity while you were showing him how to do all the steps, guiding his hands or just hugging him from the side while watching something cook.

Watching Spencer cook away made pride swell in your chest. This wasn't your first cooking lesson and it was definetely a dramatic improvement from your first one, where you had a quick bathroom back and once you returned he managed to completely burn the pasta sauce. He looked like a kicked puppy while you threw the sauce away.

But since then he had gotten significantly better, even surprising you with a home cooked meal on your anniversery.

Once Spencer successfully laid out the next layer of the long pasta and sauce, you couldn't help but smile.

"You did such a good job, you're getting better and better," you knew your boyfriend loved it when you praised him, so you decided to tease him a little bit with it ,"you're such a good boy, Spencer."

That made him stop. Spencer was glad that he wasn't facing you right now, but rather was standing at the counter with you standing behind him to his right, now looking at his face. You immediately saw his blush, but Spencer was glad you couldn't see the boner he was now sporting after hearing his words.

He knew you were teasing him in a way, though you were still earnest. Still, he couldn't keep his body from reacting, the words planting a seed inside of his mind in a place he hadn't dared to discover yet.

You could see immediately what had happened, how your words affected Spencer. A slow smile spread over your face and you stepped closer to him, your lips now directly next to his ear.

"Oh, does that turn you on? I didn't know you liked being called that, though you were always my good boy." Now you were being a bit mean, but you knew that Spencer would tap out if it got too much.

At you calling him a good boy again, Spencers breath hitched. He wasn't surprised that you almost immediately caught on to his feelings.

You reached around his hip, palming his length through his trousers, making Spencer moan. Starting to pepper kisses over his neck, while Spencer leaned against you, just teasing him for now.

"You like that, baby? Me calling you a good boy?" He could hear you so clearly with your mouth directlly to his ear and his cock twitched in reaction to your filthy words.

It took him a moment to register that you asked him a question, but once he did he nodded, putting more of his weight against you.

"Words, baby, I need words. Be a good boy for me or I'll stop."

"Y- Yes, I- uhm, do like it when you call me that. Please, please I need you."

You could feel him throbbing though his trousers, deciding to have some mercy. Slowly undoing his belt and popping open the button of his jeans. Reaching inside you pull out his length, the tip glistening with precum as Spencer let out a relieved sigh.

Taking him in your hand you slowly start to move up and down, spreading the precum on his length. His pretty moans and whines only spurred you on further, not yet increasing your speed, but the grip you had on him, making him gasp.

You knew this was a new situation for the both of you, the dynamic itself already familiar. You decided to test out the waters, Spencer now being able to think clear enough incase he felt uncomfortable with anything.

"Such a good boy for mommy, huh? You like my hand wrapped arounf you?" Spencer moaned at your filthy words, his cock twitching imaptiently in your hand.

"Yes mommy, please more." Jackpot.

You went faster over his length, your free hand wandering to his front as well, slipping under his t-shirt and sprawling out over his stomach, making his muscles contract.

"You're doing so well for me, baby. I can feel you're getting closer."

"Please, mommy, make me cum. I want to be good for you." His breathing was getting more irregular and you could feel him being impossibly close to his high.

"Don't worry baby, yo're already such a good boy for me. Cum for me, cum for mommy."

Your words finally tipped him over the edge, his cum spurting all over his stomach and your hand. You continued to stroke him, your movements slowing down while he calmed down as well.

You peppered kisses onto evey free patch of skin you could reach at the moment and retracted your hand, taking a paper towel to clean you both up. After washing your hands and cleaning up the evidence of your short lived passion, you were ready to get things done.

"Well I'd say you finish the lasagna and then we'll contine. What do you say, Spence?"

With those words you left a stunned and sputtering Spencer behind. He turned around, looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. But once you gave him a pointed look, he immediately went back to the lasagna. 

You were sure you've never seen someone layer anything that fast.

the requests for this event are OPEN until sunday (16/02)! here are the prompts!

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open! (now also for the x files)

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa @mmmmokdok

[mulloey]

1:43am

super soft dom!yunho x innocent subby!reader, kind of corruption, implied virginity maybe?? yunho is HUGE,, lots of praise #mulloey is beating the ‘only writes mean yunho’ allegations today!

rqs open :)

—

“that’s it.” it comes out as a grunt, his face flushed as he forces his way inside you. your walls are clinging to him, strangling really, and it takes every ounce of strength not to drop all pretence of gentleness and just fuck you senseless right here and now.

but you’re too sweet for that; the look in your eyes is too loving and innocent for him to possibly hurt you in that way. you’re sniffling, teary-eyed with wet lips as you suck his thumb like it’s the only thing keeping you from breaking. “oh, fuck,” he groans. “so tight f’me, aren’t you?”

you whine, shaking hands clasped around his arm as he stretches you open. “y-yuyu,” you gasp. “nngh, hurts..”

“i know, baby,” he coos. “won’t hurt for much longer, yeah? just be good and open up for me, i’ll take care of you.”

you’re trying your best, he knows you are, but you’ve never taken anything like him before. he curses under his breath; at this rate he’s going to cum before he’s even started moving. you’re just too tight.

“baby,” he says. “gimme my hands back, okay? need em to push deeper, honey.”

he pulls his thumb from your mouth; you don’t have time to whine at the loss before he picks up your own hand, pushing your smaller fingers past your lips. “there’s a good girl,” he says. “suck your fingers, sweetheart, i’ve got you.”

he presses both of his hands down on your hips, holding you still and steady so he can finally get all the way in. he feels the moment you relax around him; the loud, pained squeals soften into low, pleasured moans and he smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “there we go,” he coos. “you did it baby. i’m so proud of you.”

you grunt, squeezing your eyes shut. “yuyu, fuck— please move, i need—”

“sh, sh,” he smiles. “don’t worry, baby. i’m gonna fuck you now, gonna split you the fuck open. you want that?”

“please,” you groan. it’s muffled by your fingers still stuffed in your mouth and he can’t help but coo. he loves his pretty girl so fucking much. “please, yu. wanna— wanna feel you.”

“just relax,” he says. “don’t tense, pretty. just let me use you and you’re gonna feel me everywhere.”

—

didn’t tag ppl cus this is super short n im not sure if ppl would wanna be tagged in short things or only my full fics.. hope u liked tho!

(as a side note,, for all my girlies/whoever who have struggled to make it fit at first this one goes out to u:)) it’s a super normal problem, with my first bf it took me several months to be able to fit him in at all even tho he was average! not every ‘first time’ (or even times after that) goes as well as it does in fics so you could easily imagine this as being their 10th, 11th time trying this bc sometimes ur body just won’t cooperate with ur brain ! see a doc if it’s bothering you but it’ll get better<3 love🖤🖤🖤)

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Woke up from the sweetest dream of eating ice cream with Jason in the middle of the night, both in our jammies hunched over a pint in opposite sides of the kitchen island and its just so special to not be doing this exact thing alone.

"There's something so sweet about loving and being loved. Knowing and being known. Especially by a man who makes every past moment of suffering so worth it if it's lead us to this." 🥺🥺

Late Night Desserts 

Pure Fluff ~1k words

It's late, the kind of late that's so far into the night that you can start to call it early. Your kitchen is dark, lit only by the dim street lights and the occasional stray beams of moonlight that break the clouds hanging low over Gotham's sky. There's the sounds of cars driving by, the faint whirl of a helicopter flying overhead, but it's all drowned out by the quiet giggles bouncing off the walls of your apartment. 

"Why are you even whispering," you stumble out between hushed laughs, voice barely above a breath as you point your spoon at Jason, eyes narrowing in accusation.

He grins, mock offense dripping into his quiet tone, "I could ask you the same question, sweetheart." 

"I'm whispering because you're whispering," you bite back, gaze leaving him so you can dip your spoon into the pint of your favorite ice cream resting between you on the counter. 

Jason scoffs, all teasing and playing as he reaches over to knock his spoon against yours, digging into the frozen dessert for another taste, "I'm whispering because it's still dark outside, and the walls of your apartment are thinner than paper."

"That's not my fault," You pout, taking your own bite of the ice cream. Your eyes narrow, but there's no heat to the action, not when the moment feels as sweet as the dessert you're sharing.

"Didn't say it was, doll," he hums, catching you entirely off guard when he reaches over the kitchen island to swipe his thumb over the corner of your lip, collecting what remains of the ice cream on his finger. His gaze never leaves yours as he licks his thumb clean, smile never fading.

He seems intent on knocking your world off center for a second time, because he speaks again, an easy grin on his face, like his words have no consequence either way, "You could always move in with me. Then it wouldn't matter how loud we were at night. Opens all kinds of doors, ya know?"

You think you manage to keep the surprise off your face when you answer (you don't), "It would?"

"Sure," he hums, jabbing his spoon back into the cartoon, it's the only sign that he feels even slightly nervous over the question he poised, "We could cook after eight pm without your neighbors complaining, blast music in the morning, and, ya know, if we ever get the dog you've talked about, it would be nice to have thicker walls."

His words sweep you right off your feet, his easy answer, the slight tension in his shoulders, all point to one thing. He's thought about this. He's planned a future with you, even if it's just coming up with small, mundane reasons on why you should move to his apartment. 

The realization steals your breath away, and it's only when his face furrows and his eyes start to dart over your face, searching for any clues of how you feel, that you remember you have to respond. 

"That sounds nice. I'd like that, " You say, voice melting into a different kind of soft from your previous whispers. It's a soft that's fond, almost reverent in the face of his feelings for you, the cusp of something more you want to build with him. 

The tension drains from his body, and his smile returns to something bright, something real, "Good." Jason lifts his spoon back to his mouth, face thoughtful like he's mulling over his next words, "You could move in anytime, you know. If you wanted. Half your stuff is already there anyway."

The ice cream melting onto the counter doesn't matter anymore, and you drop your spoon, letting it clatter loudly to the granite surface. Jason only has enough time to look confused and vaguely alarmed by the noise before you round the island to get to his side.

He tries to play off his eagerness with a nonchalant shrug, but you see right through your boyfriend. And suddenly, the moment feels so big.

The feeling nearly bursts from your chest. The warm, fluttery love that's so pure and right in your soul that it's nearly overwhelming. The idea that every path you've ever walked has led you to him, and him to you. 

He opens his mouth to talk, and you steal whatever words he means to say with your tongue. The kiss is sweet, so, so sweet. Sweeter than the dessert you were sharing, sweeter than anything you could tell him, sweeter than all the emotions fluttering in your stomach over just how much he means to you. 

Jason kisses you back with a softness that speaks to all the adoration he feels for you, dropping his own spoon to cup your face, to wrap an arm around your waist to draw you closer.

You only pull away first so you can watch the way his eyes flutter open slowly, lingering in the ghost of your lips against his.

"What was that for," he asks, voice so breathless and dreamy it nearly brings you to your knees.

"Just wanted to," you hum out, pressing a kiss to his jaw, to his chin, to his cheek. It's not a lie, it just doesn't encompass all the warmth you feel in your heart, the goofy smile you can't wipe from your face.

His dumbstruck smile matches your own as he squeezes your waist, saying everything he needs to say back with a simple touch. You melt into arms, ice cream, and quiet whispers long forgotten.

But you don't need to explain, don't have to elaborate. Jason knows what you mean when you press another gentle kiss to his lips, he knows what you're trying to say when you tangle your finger in his hair and memorize the feel of his body pressing against yours.

He always seems to know what you can't find the words to say. 

It's just a moment, just a stolen minute of peace as dark creeps towards day, but it's yours. Yours and his. Another warm memory to write into your story, another step towards something that feels like forever. 

The moon lights up your kitchen as it breaks the clouds once again, and Jason chases your mouth for another head-spinning kiss, sealing the promise of words unsaid, emotions that are far bigger than can be spoken into the calm, quiet air of the night.

[ultravi0lence14]

DEMON ATTACK

DEAN WINCHESTER X DEMON!READER

WARNINGS: smut (MDNI), p in v (wrap it up ppl), rough sex, finger sucking, biting.

SUMMARY: when it comes to their alone time, dean’s little monster can’t help but let her demonic spirit shine.

WORD COUNT: 1k

the slamming of dean’s door falls onto deaf ears as both he and his little monster stumble through his room.

lips tangled together, with your legs clung together around dean’s hips, he wholly believes that he has made it to heaven.

you two had just come back from a hunt with sam, leaving the remains of a werewolf in your wake. it was a total bloodbath, and god, does dean know how much carnage and blood make you horny.

“you were so hot back there, baby,” he pants into your mouth, lips trailing down your jaw as he suckles hot and desperate kisses on your neck. “all covered in blood and looking like my own, sexy monster.”

a moan leaves your lips at the sensation of dean’s words and his masterful tongue leaving marks on your skin. hands tangled in his hair, you pull at the strands in response, allowing a deep groan to leave your lovers throat.

as he places you among the pillows on his bed, dean crawls up your body, throwing his shirt somewhere in the room during the process. “do that again, pretty girl, you know i love it when you’re rough with me.”

you reciprocate with a fierce tug to his hair, a small smirk dancing on your lips as dean’s pelvis grinds into yours at the feeling.

clothes are flying everywhere, and in record time, both you and dean are left to your undergarments. the black lace bra and panties adorning your body make the strain in dean’s boxers tighten, and you could see the way he got worked up over the sight of your scantily clad body.

“no foreplay tonight,” you breathed in his ear, nails digging into his shoulder until it stung. “i want to feel you, dean. want you buried deep inside of me.”

the guttural groan that leaves dean’s lips could be heard from a mile away, and you watch as his head falls in between your breasts, ragged breaths fanning across the expanse of your chest.

lifting his head up, green eyes bore deeply into yours, leaving a tingly feeling in both your chest and southern regions. “fuck, i think you were made for me, little monster.”

“obviously,” you reply with a smirk, reaching behind you to snap at the clasp of your bra, pulling the straps slowly down your arms. “show me how perfectly i was made for you. fuck me like you mean it.”

deep rumbles leaving his chest, dean grips tightly onto your boobs, fingers flicking at your nipples as you slowly grind your pelvis into his. you knew he would be in between your legs soon enough. he was always such a good listener, and if you wanted to be throughly fucked, dean would give it to you.

peeling away both yours and his underwear, dean hikes your legs over both of his shoulders, pressing your thighs into his chest, making sure you were completely bore to him.

watching as he stroked his cock in his hand, dean placed his tip inside of your tight hole, not even giving you a second to breath before he was slamming his full length inside of you.

a loud, high pitched moan left your lips, and they didn’t stop as dean thrusted deeply inside of you, not giving you a second to adjust before he started moving at a rapid pace.

completely pile-driving his dick against the spongy spot inside of your core, the sound of skin slapping against skin and your loud, drawn out moans were the only thing that could be heard bouncing of the walls of dean’s room.

nails dug deeply into dean’s shoulders, you watched as your fingers broke through the layer of his skin, blood seeping from the cuts and eliciting a deep groan from dean.

his pace was relentless, the bruising feeling of his dick slamming deeply into you sending a wave of euphoria through your body. but somehow you needed more, and you couldn’t help but find yourself moaning out, “harder dean, fuck me harder.” while dean did just that and bore into you at a much faster and harder pace.

the sound of the headboard bouncing off the walls in quick succession, alongside your head repeatedly slamming into the wood behind you was in no match for the loud, high pitched moans that left your lips in frequent order. each blinding thrust had you crying out loudly in pleasure, and dean slipped one of his hands off the backs of your thighs so he could place three of his fingers in your mouth.

“shh baby,” he groaned, not stopping his relenting pace as the sounds coming from your lips gargled around his fingers. “you gotta be quiet. sammy’s just down the hall.”

though when his fingers slipped from your mouth, and the moans and mewls continued to bounce throughout the halls, dean thought of a better idea.

“cmon, little monster, bite onto my shoulder.” his words came out in a breathless succession, somehow not slowing down his harsh movements as he spoke to you. slowly taking one of your legs off his shoulder, dean pressed his chest to yours so his arm was on full display to your awaiting teeth.

his words left a blinding feeling in your gut, and you didn’t have to be told twice before you latched onto the top of his bicep, moans muffled around his skin as you sunk your teeth into flesh.

the feeling had a shiver of pleasure running up his spine, and it somehow elicited dean to go even harder and deeper.

looking at the look of pure pleasure on your face, mixed with the sight of your teeth baring into his skin had that feeling in dean’s gut tighten, and it didn’t take until the feeling of you screaming around his arm and spilling your warm cum around his dick before he came himself.

but dean wasn’t stupid, and he knew that when you said you wanted to be fucked hard, you meant it. so without slowing down, dean continued his exact same pace inside your tight walls even after you both had came.

your moans grew even louder around his arm, and dean wasn’t planning on stopping until you had come at least three more times.

meanwhile, sam sat in his room with his noise cancelling headphones on, shaking his head in slight disgust as the sounds of your muffled moans and the headboard quickly banging against the wall could still be heard even through his loud music.

TAGS: @starzify @whisperingdaze @titsout4jackles @daylighted @deansbeer @bluemerakis @deanangel @sunsbaby @haunteres @beausling @deanswidow @figthoughts @honeyryewhiskey @florchids @gibson-g1rl @misatxox @a-lil-pr1ncess @flow33didontsmoke

NAT BABBLES: a lil monster treat before i go into hibernation to grind out pearl reprise and fall from grace🙏

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

Omg, I read and reread your fitness influencer x chubby cooking influencer like five or six times already! Would you consider writing more parts to it, please?

Omg i would love to, lemme cook for a sec sksksk

CW: chubby fem cooking influencer reader x fitness influencer fave, fluff, smut, mentions of internet trolls being mean, not proofread i am sorry sksksk

So, chubby cooking influencer reader and fitness influencer

A match made in heaven tbh sksksk

But it's very normal at first! Like i said in my original post, reader and fitness influencer (i.e. your fave) just start the relationship with simple conversation

Your likes, dislikes, hobbies, interests, you chat about it all on social media!

His instagram has a lot of tagged photos of your recipes that he tries, as well as photos of him at the gym

His youtube is mostly vlogs of his days as an influencer and workouts and all that

He's always very good about tagging you, even if he just mentions your channel in passing, he's tagging you in the description AND comments

And you always thank him in his dms for tagging you

He starts expecting it now, seeing your notification and it brightens his day

He plays it cool tho, always thanking you in return and asking how your day is going

Which of course leads to conversations about other things (what did you do today, what did you eat, what are you up to)

He likes you, he really likes you

But he tries to be suave, just being nice at first, but he's always thinking of you tbh

At the gym, at home, when he's eating, in the shower, in bed 😏

He ends up jerking off to you quite a bit, though he won't admit it, he's too shy for that sksksk

He does ask about the general area you live in and gets excited when he finds out how close you are

Takes a lot of guts but he ends up asking you on a date, offering to pay for a nice meal and a movie if you want

Does a fist bump and jump when you accept sksksk

He dresses nice for your date, opting to wear dress pants and a tight button up shirt to show off his muscles

BUT YOU?? OMG YOU LOOK SO CUTE

You've got on a yellow sundress with flowers and white heels and a sun hat and he is just UGH so obsessed with you

Date goes well. He's happy to see you eating freely and without a care about how he may think, plus you get dessert and you lick cream off your lips and he has to excuse himself to go to the bathroom and calm himself down bc he got a boner 😔

Before the date ends, he asks you if you two can do this again, and you turn bashful

"You really want to hang out with me again??" you ask with big doe eyes

"Of course I do. I wanna date you, Y/N. And fuck you the way you deserve"

....is what he wishes he said sksksk

But instead he just nods, screaming inside bc you are honestly just so precious

You go on a second date, and a third, and a fourth and a fifth and honestly he is getting a little frustrated bc you have not even tried to hold his hand yet

He tried making the first move, but you're always just out of reach, just a little too far away from him to do anything

He agonizes over it a little bit, asking his gym bros what he should do

"Maybe she's just not into you dude"

"Just grab her and kiss her dude"

"I don't know man, i like men, not women"

They're no help tbh sksksk

He just decides to ask you on your next date and figure out why you won't initiate things with him

When he asks you, your eyes go wide and he thinks that if you could blush, your whole body would turn red

"What?! This whole time we've been going on dates?! I thought you just liked food as much as me and wanted to share it!"

He feels like he's gonna bang his head against a wall sksksk

TO BE FAIR! When he asks you out, he always refers to it as "hanging out" so you can't be blamed for getting confused

You decide to sit down with some ice cream and talk about how you both feel

He admits that he's been crushing on you for a while before you met and that he wanted to date you

You shyly admit that you find him very attractive but thought he was out of your league so you never considered that he could have feelings for you he's gonna crack his head open on the pavement omg sksksk

He reassures you that he genuinely likes you and is attracted to you and wants to have a romantic relationship with you

It's hard for you to believe, he's just so handsome and big and strong, is this real life or a dream??

You decide to let him prove it to you with more dates uwu

You start getting closer to him, letting him put his arm around around you, holding your hand

You're very anxious when he tries to kiss you, but once it happens it feels like fireworks are going off in your brain

You really like kissing him, just because he's always so gentle and he's so close and he's warm

You really, really like him 🥺

But don't worry sweet love, he likes you just as much if not more sksksk

He's so obsessed with you it's honestly kind of silly sksksk

He thinks about you all the time! And he wants to be with you all the time! He feels like he's gonna explode every time you show up to a date in a cute outfit!

He wants to make the relationship official and exclusive, so he asks to make a vlog with you

You agree! Not only do you think it would be good traction for your channel, but it would be nice to spend the day with him :)

You both bring your cameras on the day of the vlog!

You start by getting breakfast, showing off your coffees

He gets annoyed that you JUST have a coffee, but you swear it fills you up and he lets it slide as long as you eat a good lunch

Then you go to the gym together! You just hang out on the treadmill while he does his weight lifting

Tbh he's very distracted by your outfit, your leggings make your ass look so fucking good, and he would've been fucked if he didn't have a spotter

Then you go to lunch and you gush about the food and the restaurant and he's infatuated with you 💕

You turn the camera towards him and he's just got a lovesick look on his face

Then you go to a movie and then you go to his apartment for dinner!

You cook dinner together, making a meal that the both of you can enjoy, one that is nutritious AND delicious

You finish the vlog by showing off your finished plates and talking about what a fun day you had :)

You're ready to pack up your stuff and go home, but he asks if you'd like to stay and hang out a bit more

You oblige. You're dating now so it makes sense for yall to spend more time together

You decide to cuddle up and watch a movie, but 20 minutes in, you guys are making out on his couch sksksk

Things get hot and heavy pretty quick, and now his hand is going up your shirt and he's squeezing your waist and you start getting shy 😔

Does he really want you? Is he really interested in you? Is he sure that he wants you and your body?

But then your leg moves and rubs against his crotch and good lordy you can feel his boner 😳

Ok, goodbye insecurities, he's def into you and you're gonna get your man 😏

You go to the bedroom, undress, and oh boy he is enamored by you

Your breasts, your thighs, your BELLY?? You're gorg and he's obsessed

But he's not the only one drooling sksksk has he seen himself lately? He's sculpted like a god, you can't believe you scored a guy like him

AND NOT TO MENTION HIS COCK SKSKSK like that thing is long and thick, you're genuinely wondering if it's gonna fot

The two of you spend a good five minutes just staring at each other and complimenting each others' physiques

Eventually you get to the sex part sksksk but there's a lot of praise along the way

He's so cute the way he kisses down your body and spreads your legs and nuzzles into your mound

He's not too bad at giving head. You have to give him a little direction but he gets the hang of it and makes you cum

You admit that you're a little scared of sucking his dick so he doesn't make you, you just go to the main event

You're not sure if you should let him hit it raw but you're too impatient to let him get a condom, you're on birth control and you need that dick NOW

He slides in very easily, you are unbelievably wet and oh my god, if he doesn't focus then he'll cum so easily

He fits inside you so well, filling you up just right without any pain

It's such a good fit, his cock feels soooooo good inside you

And then he starts thrusting and all bets are off

The sex is so fucking good, oh my GOD

He just keeps hitting your sweet spots and rubbing your clit and oh god you're cumming already

Your cunt squeezes him so deliciously and you're so pretty and cute when you cum and holy fuck the noises you make are just sinful and he needs to slow down bc if he doesnt he's not gonna last long

He makes you cum three times before he pulls out and cums all over your tummy

Thinks you look so cute covered in his cum 🥴

He ends up cleaning you off with his tongue which just makes you needy again and you ask him oh so sweetly if he can fuck you one more time and whoops now his cock is hard again, guess he's gotta fuck you 🤷‍♀️

You guys go at it all night, eventually showering and going to bed around 4am

Of course you sleep over, ain't no way in hell he's letting you leave after all that

You sleep in together and when you wake up he makes you breakfast 🥺💕

He uploads his vlog after editing it the next day, and you upload yours

Your comments are very sweet at first, congratulating you on your new relationship with this other influencer

But then they turn mean :( people start to say that you're not good enough for him, why is he even with you, he should be with this other fitness influencer instead :(

He is pissed. His fans are attacking you on your page 😡

He makes a video the next day and posts it where he explains that he loves you and is happy with you and that until the hate comments stop, he will not be posting on his page

He helps you delete and mute and block and filter comments and users

He's very upset about this entire experience

"I guess you don't want to be with me anymore, huh?" you ask

He's offended and hurt!

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, you saw what they said. Maybe you should be with someone better..."

"What are you talking about? I love you, Y/N. You're perfect for me and I don't want anyone else. Do you just not want to be with me?"

"No! I do! I just... worry that I'm not good enough for you..."

He grabs your hands and makes you look at him

"Y/N, you are perfect to me. I couldn't ask for anyone better. I love you and I want to be with you. Please don't let these trolls dictate your life."

You're still hurt by the comments, but your feelings for him overpower the negative things you're feeling

You keep dating, and as time goes on, you care less and less about the comments that were made about your relationship

You continue with your channel and vlogs with him and enjoy your life

You still get backlash every now and then from obsessed friends, but when that happens, you just turn your computer off and go on about your day

Negativity can really affect your life, but he's always there to cheer you up and fuck you stupid so you forget all those mean comments sksksk

You become the "it" couple in the fitness and cooking communities, everyone thinks you're so so cute together and such a good match, so fuck those online trolls! Your cooking besties and his gym bros love you two together and that's all that matters 💕

I imagine he proposes after a year of dating, not wanting to waste any more time without you

He proposes at your favorite restaurant, but you say no :(

To be fair, your reasons are justified. You guys have rarely had arguments, you haven't gone through many trials in your life, you don't even live together! How can you be sure that he's the one when you haven't truly struggled with him yet?

He understands, although he's diappointed 😔

On the bright side, you suggest moving in to an apartment together once your leases are up! And he's very happy about that :)

You guys adopt some kitty cats after you move in together! You adopt two kittens from the same litter and you love them so so much, they often appear in your vlogs and sometimes you do cat reviews like on cat trees and toys and stuff

He encourages you to go to the gym for health reasons, but he doesn't push it. He just wants you to take care of yourself so you can be around for as long as possible 💕

He's gained a little bit of pudge! He's still strong as hell, but he's got a little layer of fat over some of his muscles like his abs, he's just not as sculpted now

It's bc he can't resist your food sksksk

But you're still very attracted to him so he doesn't care so much

Overall, beautiful love story, match made in heaven 💕

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

࿐ ᧔♡᧓ . MYDEI’S DIGITAL LOVE ?!!?!

꒰୨୧꒱ Paring : famous streamer Mydei x big-fan chubby fem!reader

꒰୨୧꒱ Warnings : nsfw/smut, vaginal, internet sex, fingering (yourself), hand-job (he does it to himself), recording/video taping, orgasm control/denial & holding orgasm, dirty talk & degradation, praise kink, exhibitionism (light), mutual masturbation, voice kink, overstimulation, commanding behaviour, size-kink?, Mydei is teasing, reader is shy. (＃＞＜)

꒰୨୧꒱ Summary : You’ve been Mydei’s biggest fan for months, but you never expected him to notice you—until tonight. Out of nowhere, he finally responds to your message you sent him for 3 years, “Let’s talk to camera. ;)” and before you know it, you're face-to-face on a video call with your favorite streamer. His teasing starts instantly, rough voice making you squirm as he pushes you further, watching your every move. What starts as a simple chat turns into something far more sinful—you’re not just another fan tonight, you’re his. (Morden au)

꒰୨୧꒱ Extra : special post since it’s my birthday :3 feb 10th! Also Special post for : @jadestone2 , oh and also you guys are having cybers*x on discord. 😪 This is short btw.

Your heart nearly stops when the notification pops up ;

Mydei69: Let’s talk in camera ;)

Your breath catches in your throat. No way. No way. It’s been four months since you sent that message—three months of watching his streams, liking his posts, replaying clips where his rough, teasing voice made your stomach twist in knots. You never expected him to respond.

Your fingers tremble as you scramble to accept the call, your screen flashing before his face appears—smug, gorgeous, and effortlessly cocky. His eyes flick over you, and the slow smirk that spreads across his lips makes you want to shrink into yourself.

“Damn,” he drawls, voice low and rough. “Didn’t think my biggest fan would be so shy.” Your stomach flips at the way he says it—slow, taunting, like he’s savoring your reaction. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Mydei chuckles, leaning back in his chair, the dim glow of his setup casting sharp shadows over his sharp features.

"Cat got your tongue?" he muses, tilting his head. "Or are you just that nervous to be on cam with me?" You shake your head quickly, heat creeping up your neck. "N-No, I just… I wasn’t expecting you to—"

"Finally respond?" He cuts you off with an amused scoff. "Yeah, I know. Took my time, didn’t I?" His eyes flicker across your screen, studying you. "But you were patient. And now you’ve got me all to yourself." The weight of those words settles in your stomach, heavy and thrilling. It’s just you and him. No chaotic chat, no thousands of watching eyes—just his gaze locked onto you like you’re the only thing that matters.

"Let’s make it worth the wait, yeah?" His voice drops lower, and he leans in, elbows resting on his desk. "Show me how much of a fan you really are."

Your breath hitches. The way he’s looking at you—like he already knows how this is going to go, like he’s expecting you to fall right into his hands—makes your body feel hot all over. "I—I don’t know what you mean," you stammer, even though you do.

Mydei chuckles, shaking his head. "C’mon, don’t play dumb," he says, voice dripping with amusement. "You’ve been watching me for how long? Sending me messages, calling yourself my biggest fan…" He pauses, eyes dark with something unreadable. "So prove it."

You swallow hard, your hands gripping the hem of your shirt. The tension between you is thick, crackling through the screen like a live wire. "What… what do you want me to do?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper. Mydei’s grin widens, predatory. "Good girl," he murmurs, leaning back in his chair, looking like he’s about to enjoy every second of this. "Let’s start simple. Take that off for me."

Your pulse pounds in your ears. You hesitate for only a moment—long enough for Mydei to chuckle again, this time lower, rougher. "Shy thing like you needs a little push, huh?" he muses, eyes locked onto you. "Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you."

Your hands tremble as you grip the hem of your shirt, hesitating just a moment too long. Mydei notices, of course—he notices everything.

"Need me to count down for you?" he teases, cocking his head. "Or do you just like making me wait?" Your breath shudders as you finally pull your shirt over your head, exposing the soft lace of your bra. It’s cute—delicate, pastel-colored, something you picked out on a whim without ever imagining someone like him would see it.

Mydei exhales sharply, his smirk deepening. "Damn," he mutters, his gaze raking over you through the screen. "Didn’t take you for the cute type." He leans in slightly, his voice dipping into something darker. "But I like it. Suits you."

Your face burns at the compliment, at the way he’s staring like he wants to see more. "Go on," he urges, voice smooth and coaxing. "Show me just how much of a good girl you can be." You shift under his gaze, fingers twitching at your sides. The way he's looking at you so intense, so hungry-makes your whole body feel warm, like you're burning up from the inside out.

"You shy now?" Mydei taunts, his voice a perfect mix of amusement and something darker. "Thought you were my biggest fan." You bite your lip, heat pooling in your stomach at the way he's teasing you. He knows exactly what he's doing, and worse-you know it's working. Slowly, you reach behind your back, fumbling with the clasp of your bra. Your full tits revealing, as your cheeks began to redden. The moment it loosens, you hear Mydei inhale softly, his eyes glued to your every movement.

"Fuck," he mutters, his voice rougher now. "Knew you'd be cute under all that." He leans in, resting his chin on his hand as he watches you, completely enthralled. "Bet you've been dreaming about this, huh? Showing off for me. Letting me see you like this." You swallow hard, nodding hesitantly. He grins. "Good girl. Now, let's see how well you listen."

You can’t breathe. Or maybe you’re breathing too hard—your chest rising and falling under his gaze, heat flooding every inch of your skin. The way he’s looking at you, like you’re something worth watching, sends a shiver down your spine.

"That’s it," Mydei murmurs, his voice smoother now, almost like he’s soothing you. But there’s an edge to it, too—something sharp, something dangerous. "Knew you’d be good for me." Your thighs press together at his words, and of course, he notices. His smirk stretches wider, eyes dark with amusement.

"Cute and needy?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "You really are my biggest fan, huh?" You nod without thinking, your face burning. "Good," he says, his voice dropping lower. "Then keep going. I wanna see just how much you can take for me."

Mydei's eyes flick downward, to the camera and you realize—too late—that he's caught you. His smirk sharpens. "Rubbing those thighs together like that," he muses, voice laced with amusement. "You that needy already?" Your breath stutters. You try to stop, but it's impossible-the heat pooling between your legs is too much, the way he's watching you is too much.

He chuckles, low and knowing, "C'mon, baby," he purrs. "Go ahead. Put those pretty fingers to work for me," Your stomach tightens at the command. "Let me see how much of a mess you can make," he adds, his voice thick with anticipation. "Bet you're already soaked for me, huh?"

Your breath comes out shaky, your whole body burning under his gaze. He's not even here, but the way he speaks-like he already owns you, like he knows what you're feeling-has you completely at his mercy.

Slowly, hesitantly, your hand drifts down, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. The moment your fingers brush against yourself, you gasp—you're already embarrassingly wet, just like he said. Mydei groans softly, eyes glued to the screen. "Knew it," he mutters, voice thick with approval. "So fucking predictable." Your cheeks burn, but the humiliation only makes the ache between your legs worse. "Don't be shy now," he coaxes. "Let me see how pretty you look when you touch yourself for me."

Your breath shudders as your fingers move, the warmth of your own touch making you squirm. Mydei watches through the screen, his sharp eyes locked onto you, his expression shifting into something darker—something possessive. Your other had gripped on your right tit squeezing it gently as you teased your clit. Imagining it was Mydei’s fingers and hands, teasing you.

"That's it, he murmurs, voice lower now, almost approving. "Nice and slow. I want to see everything." He smirked, he pulled down his own pants, as he groaned softly looking at his length that was already leaking with cum. You bite your lip, overwhelmed by the way he's watching you, and stroking himself with his cock. The heat in his gaze making you feel exposed in the best way possible. You've imagined moments like this before, but nothing compares to the real thing—nothing compares to him actually being here, whispering to you, praising you.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he muses, tilting his head. "Bet it feels even better knowing I'm watching." You nod, your voice caught somewhere in your throat. Mydei chuckles, leaning in just slightly, his smirk deepening. While watching you through the camera. His hand gripping on his dick, as he let out a grunted moan. "G-Good girl," he murmurs. "Keep going. Let me hear you."

You moaned softly, dipping on of your fingers in your tight passage. Velvety walls wrapping around your fingers. As Mydei moaned out loud, "Fuck yeah…just like that." He groaned, as his thumb teased the tip of his cock. Imagining that the head of his cock kissing your cervix.

"G—Gonna cum…" you announced, Mydei’s lidded eyes snapped wide open as he sneered. "Fuck no, baby. I don’t think so. Hold it for me and show me you’re a real fan of mine."

Your whole body tenses at his words, a desperate whimper slipping past your lips. Holding back feels impossible—you’re already trembling, already so close—but the look on Mydei’s face tells you he expects you to obey. "Don’t give me that," he huffs, his hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes. He’s watching you with half-lidded eyes, his jaw tight, his breaths heavier than before. "Real fans know how to listen." You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to hold back the pleasure building inside you, but it only makes it worse. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to hold back the pleasure building inside you, but it only makes it worse. Mydei notices immediately, his smirk sharp and teasing.

"Struggling, baby?" he taunts, his pace on himself picking up slightly. "That desperate to let go?" You nod frantically, your thighs trembling. He groans lowly, tilting his head back for a brief second before locking eyes with you again. "Fuck—you look so cute when you're holding back for me." His voice is rough now, edged with hunger. "Think you can last a little longer? Be a good girl and wait for me?"

Your entire body is shaking, every muscle tensed as you fight against the overwhelming pleasure surging through you. Mydei's voice is all you can focus on-rough, teasing, controlling. "I-I don't know if I can," you whimper, your voice coming out weak, breathless. His eyes darken, hand still working himself at an unhurried pace. "You can," he corrects, his tone firm but laced with amusement. "You will. Don't tell me my biggest fan is about to let me down."

You shake your head frantically, desperate to prove him wrong. "N—No, I-I wanna be good for you" vou stammer, your voice barely above a whine. That earns you a low, satisfied groan. "That's my girl," he praises, his strokes becoming just a little faster, his breathing heavier. "Hold it a little longer for me, baby. Just a little more."

Your whole body is on fire, every nerve stretched to its limit as you fight to hold back, just like he told you. Mydei watches you intently, his hand moving faster, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. "Fuck, look at you," he groans, his voice rougher now, strained with pleasure. "Shaking so bad for me... you really wanna cum, don't you?" You nod frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Please," you beg, voice barely a whisper.

Mydei's breath shudders, his strokes turning almost desperate. "Shit—alright, baby," he rasps. "Cum for me. Now." The second he gives you permission, the pleasure crashes over you, white—hot and overwhelming. Your body trembles as you cry out, giving in completely, your mind hazy with nothing but bliss.

Mydei isn't far behind. His jaw clenches, his brows furrow, and with a deep, guttural groan, he spills over his hand, his body shuddering through his release. For a moment, the only sound between you is your uneven breathing. Mydei leans back, running a hand through his hair, his smirk returning as he watches you try to catch your breath. "Damn," he mutters, his voice still rough. "Best fan interaction I've ever had."

Your body is still trembling, aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you as you try to catch your breath. Mydei watches you with a lazy smirk, his chest still rising and falling from his own release. But then—his eyes darken again, that cocky glint returning as he tilts his head. "We're not done yet, baby," he murmurs, voice low and teasing. Your breath hitches, eyes widening slightly. "W-What?" He chuckles, sitting up straighter, his fingers still lazily stroking himself, already regaining his composure. "What kind of streamer would I be if I left my biggest fan unsatisfied?" His voice drops, rough and full of intent. "Now be good and spread those legs for me again."

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, your body still tingling from the intensity of your release. But Mydei isn't done—not even close. His dark eyes rake over you, his smirk softening just a little, but the hunger is still there. "You look so pretty like this," he murmurs, voice lower now, almost... tender. "Flushed, breathless, all for me." Your heart stutters at the way he says it—less like a tease, more like he means it.

"You really are my biggest fan, huh?" he muses, stroking himself lazily, watching the way your thighs twitch. "But I think." He trails off for a second, his expression shifting into something unreadable. "I think I might be your biggest fan now." The words send a different kind of heat through you, something deeper, something that lingers. Mydei chuckles when he sees the way you react, but there's no mocking edge to it this time—just warmth.

"Didn't think this would happen." he admits, his hand slowing, his gaze softening even as he stays locked onto you. "But fuck, baby... I don't think I can let you go now." Your breath shudders. "Mydei..." His smirk turns into something almost affectionate. "Yeah, baby," he murmurs, his eyes full of something deeper than lust, something real. "You're mine now. And I'm yours."

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

A Different Kind of Feeling (Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!Reader)

What it do ya’ll?! Uh so I’m currently suffering through ovulation pains (Yay!😭)! So here’s Simon taking care of that for reader and experiencing his own version of it! If it seems all over the place it’s because I wrote this tipsy!

Warnings: NSFW, language, MDNI

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghost didn’t know what he was expecting when he got home, but hearing moans coming from the bedroom wasn’t it. His brain was expecting to find the worst situation, you with another man. He knew that was impossible though his brain told him it wasn’t.

What he was not expecting to find however was you, naked as the day and bouncing on a toy. A sheen of sweat already glistening on your skin in the low light of the room, moans passing through your pretty lips and so lost in the pleasure.

”S’ all this then, luv?” The surprised moan that left your mouth as you stopped bouncing on the toy but continued to grind on it as you looked at him over your shoulder. “I-ah! I’m ovulating…mmh! S-started on my own cuz y-you weren’t…Oh! You weren’t here!” The rustling of clothes could be heard through your moans, you looked as though you were struggling to reach the high you so desperately wanted.

He wasted no time in shedding his clothes as you were explaining and before you knew it he was laid on his back, already transferring you from your toy to his cock. Didn’t need prep, you’d done enough for him, your pussy sloppy and glistening. You were a vision of beauty, moaning and whimpering as he sunk you onto him, eyes closing in pleasure. He groaned as their hips met.

You wouldn’t last long, you knew that. You’d been unconsciously edging yourself and now sitting on the source of all your thoughts you were closer than when you were riding the toy. Simon had wasted no time, hands planted on your hips and moving you at a brutal pace, the head of his cock hitting all the right spots. His eyes trained on you as he bounced your soft body on him, your moans ringing through his ears were damn near pornographic but no less sweet.

He could feel you tightening up around him, he knew you were close. Your moans got louder, you tried and failed to form sentences but he was just too good, hitting deep on all the right spots, yet you still tried. Tried to tell him you were coming. “Simon! Oh, oh my god! It-it feels different! Ah!” He kept going, his body felt hot all over, like he had a fever. Like if he took his mask off all the way it would be soaked through, what was happening?

”Thas’ right baby girl, cum on my cock yeah?” His pace picked up, hands gripping you so tight there would be bruises. When you finished your moan was loud; eyes rolled to the back of your skull, head thrown back in ecstasy. Your body jolted and there was a considerable wetness soaking his lap, running down his hips and dripping onto the bed. You had squirted and he felt his brain halt to a full stop, his face and chest were surly red and not just from the scratch marks you had left behind; his skull felt like it was gonna burst into flames. He didn’t even know you were capable of squirting.

He fucked you through the aftershocks of your hardest orgasm and you were positively seeing stars, you had to have been because he definitely was. Star struck at the fact you looked like you were in a different world at that moment. He slowed down as you slumped forward onto his chest gulping down air like your life depended on it.

He turned you over so that you lay under him now, hair spread like a halo. You looked every bit the goddess you were to him. Chest still heaving you wrapped your arms tiredly around his neck, pulling him into a passionate make out session. “M-more. Please Simon, want more of you. Wanna be full of you.” Simon didn’t need to be told twice, not with the way you were making an undulating motion around his cock with your insides, clenching and unclenching around him. He hitched your legs up around his shoulders putting you in a mating press before going back to work.

His hips pistoned into your’s, his grunts and groans gaining volume as he continued. Your nails dug into his shoulders and the pain was welcome, mixing with the pleasure he was experiencing. He didn’t know it could be like this, he felt like he was on fire. Is this what baby fever felt like? The ovulation you always say hurts so bad but he’ll find you holding your sides and laughing through the pain like a maniac?

”Fuck baby! Your pussy feels like a vice, s’ so tight, so wet.” You tightened around him, the tell tale sign that you were close again, “Yes! Yes Simon, oh god! So good! S’ so big, want you to fill me up!” His brain felt like it was melting. His cock twitched hearing your cries and whimpers, your plea for him to release inside you sending him into overdrive. “How can I deny you when you ask so pretty, dove?” With one hand tightening around your thigh and the other gripping the headboard for dear life he plunged into you with abandon.

”Simon! Simon! Yes! Yesyesyesyes! Please fill me up! Wanna feel you cum inside me! AH!” Simon’s hips slammed into your’s and halted, his head thrown back, groan louder than ever. The head of his cock pressed against your cervix pumping his release into you, filling your womb as you came around him again. “Fuck! Mm, yes baby that’s it! Take my fuckin cum!” He fucked you through both of your guys’ orgasms, your eyes teary and wet, whimpers passing through your lips as he fucked his cum deeper into you.

As the both of you came down from your highs Simon removed his hand from the headboard, now splintered from his grip, to grab the back of your head and bring you into a sweltering kiss. Chests heaving and sweaty, you both laid there for a while, Simon’s cock plugging you up, still big even when he was soft. “Holy shit that was…hah that was amazing Simon.” You gave him a tender kiss and softly exclaimed your love for him before saying you needed to use the restroom.

Begrudgingly he removed himself from your gummy walls and let you wobble off towards the bathroom after he got an eyeful of his release leaking out of your lovingly abused cunt. As he heard you moving around in the bathroom he sat there on the edge of his bed, head in his hands as he tried to figure out what the hell just happened. “What kind of bloody spell?” The buzzing noise from the floor drew him out of his thoughts. Looking at the text that came through, it was Garrick asking if he was still coming to the pub with them. Guess he’d be havin a chat with the lads about this.

You came back out dressed in one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties before laying yourself on the bed next to him and pulling him back in for a kiss. “Welcome home, Simon.” “Hell of a welcome, Love.” You giggled and kissed his cheek. He left for the shower to wash up after letting you know he was gonna head out with the guys, the tired nod said you would be asleep before he left but he made sure to give you a kiss and whisper his goodbye to you before heading out. Maybe he’d have the guys help him pick out a ring too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: @cumikering

[lila-went-missing]

reader AND vis first time

I saw this and got so excited to write it I'm not even gonna lie.

Warnings: Smut (duh), fluff at the end, switch Vi (kinda), body worship. Lmk if I missed anything.

Vi's body slotted perfectly on top of yours, like two pieces that were missing from a puzzle.

Her weight on top of you quickly turned into one of your favorite sensations. Her chest pressed against yours. That's exactly where she is now. Her arms rest on either side of your head, one hand cupping your cheek. Your tongues slide against each other in a sloppy but unbelievably passionate kiss.

You gasp as her knee presses against you.

"Fuck, VI." She breathes out a chuckle against your lips.

"Feel good Cupcake?"

"Mhm.." Her mouth moves to your neck, licking and sucking at your pulse point. A hand grips your hip and pulls you up against her.

Her own shirt is thrown off somewhere, you don't bother looking where. Not when her bare chest is right in front of your face. You sit up, legs caging her in. You pull her waist up against you and attach your lips to one of her nipples.

You lick and suck, pinching the other with your hand. Hickies are sucked into the surrounding skin. Vi isn't a super vocal person, usually letting out small grunts and huffs. But now whimpering more than you've ever heard her. You would've done this a long time ago if you had known her tits were this sensitive.

"Mmh shit Cupcake, keep doing that."

How could you ever say no to her?" You switch your mouth and hand sides, giving her exactly what she wants. Her hand cradles the back of your head, short nails scratching at your scalp.

After a few seconds she pulls you away, attaching her mouth back to yours. Your hands grope at her tits, unable to pull away.

"I've never- I've never done this before." She tells you. It's not often you see Vi looking nervous, but right now, she does.

"Me neither." You tell her. Something in her face changes and you can tell she isn't as worried. "We can go slow." Your hands slow down with your words, as if proving it.

She nods and crawls back on top of you, slower this time. It's nice, not as rushed. The feeling of her body relaxed against you makes you happier than anything else has in a while. You're more aware of how warm she is, how soft her skin is.

She pulls your own shirt over your head. Her hands drag over your body with more appreciation than you've ever felt from a man. Probably why you always left them way before anything started.

"You're so beautiful, baby." She eyes your chest before showing you the same attention you showed her. It's your turn to run your hand through her hair, lightly pulling it.

She works her hands at your belt, pulling your pants down your legs.

"Can I taste you, baby? Please?" You can't deny her anything, especially not with that desperate and whiny tone in her voice.

You nod but she's already pulling your panties down and diving her tongue into your pussy. Her hands wrap around her thighs, your thighs wrap around her head. She decides then and there that if she ever were to suffocate, this is how she would want to go out.

You've never felt anything like this. There's a warmth in your belly pulling tight as she goes. Her tongues switch's between kitten licking and suckling at your clit to fucking against your g-spot inside of you.

Time ceases to exist, she could've spent anywhere from a minute to a thousand years between your legs. You wouldn't know the difference.

Just when that coil is about to snap, she's pulling back and licking her lips.

"Vi..." Any other time you'd be embarrassed of how whiny you are, but not tonight. She's slipping her own bottoms off and slotting her legs in between yours.

"I want you to come against my pussy." She mutters against your lips.

Holy shit.

Those might be the hottest words you've ever heard in your life but you wouldn't know. Because the second her clit catches against yours you lose any memory that she isn't in.

It's fiery in a way you've never felt. The pleasure is all consuming, wrapping around your limbs pulling you into her. Your hands grab her hips, keeping her up against you. Your own hips buck up into her, amplifying the pleasure.

"Oh my- gosh Violet." You choke out. Her own voice is whimpering out. You hear the word "fuck" multiple times.

"Oh, Cupcake please.. you're so wet, fuck baby. You feel so good."

You throw your head back into the pillows. You wanted to last a lot longer than this but that's just not possible. Not with the way she's grinding her dripping pussy against yours. The sound of your juices mixing together is so lewd it throws you over the edge.

"You gonna cum for me? Come on, cum on my fucking pussy baby. Let me have it."

You don't remember anything that you say. Your orgasm is so powerful that you black out. You faintly hear the words coming out of her own mouth, but you know she's having an orgasm just as powerful.

She falls on top of you, arms wrapping around your waist. Yours come up around her back. You trace the ink of her tattoo, more content than you've been in a while.

Her lips press into your neck. It isn't sexual, just loving. You wouldn't have it any other way.

"I love you." You tell her, honestly.

"I love you." You know she's being honest too.

[wh1ski]

His Perfect Doll

pairing : toji fushiguro / fem reader

rating + word count : explicit + 2.7K

tags : free use, daddy kink (?), one mention of breeding, slight choking, slight body worship, slight bimbofication (?), i suck at tagging.

got bored and was like hey, lets write. ask box is open for requests. enjoy <3

the relationship you had with toji wasn't that different than any other relationship. just like any woman, you cooked and cleaned for your man, you folded his laundry and even ironed them… there was the small, rather noticeable, fact that you just happened to do all of these things naked. toji didn’t buy you clothes. instead he bought you fishnet bodysuits, maid aprons and thongs, knee high stockings and mary janes. anything that left very little to the imagination, anything that could give him quick access to your body. you didn't mind this, you were living the life! anything you wanted, toji would buy you. all you had to do was present yourself to him whenever he felt like fucking.

sometimes it wasn’t fucking. it was toji tying you up on the couch and having a toy thrusting in you while he played his little game system next to you, letting whoever he was playing with hear you moaning loudly in the background. other times it could be toji coming home from work and just wanting to bury his dick in something warm. you on his lap, reverse cowgirl style, dick inside you while he scrolls through his phone and slaps your ass anytime you try to move. you were nothing but a living breathing sex doll and you preferred it no other way.

you were making cookies, something sweet for your sweetie, when he walked in the house. you didn't speak, just turned to smile at him and wait to see if he needed you to do anything for him. toji looked at you with a grin, placing his gun on the counter before taking off his shirt, scarred abs on full display. you could have melted at the sight of his body, your cunt starting to clamp down on nothing as you got further excited to see just what toji was in the mood for today.

there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he walked towards you slowly. you wanted to squirm, walk towards him, anything to get your hands on him quicker. but you didn’t. you knew better than that. you were tojis perfect doll and you aimed to please him. once he got close to you, he pulled the apron you were wearing off. exposing you wearing nothing but black stockings, a thong and your favorite pair of heels. he only whispered two words to you, his lips so close to your face, your eyes staring deeply into his with yearning. “bedroom. now.” and you automatically turned around to begin walking in that direction, no thoughts in your head other than the ones about how you were ready to be a good human fleshlight for toji.

before you could even take a seat on the bed, toji was grabbing your tits from behind, making a small gasp come from you. involuntarily, your hips bucked forward and a moan slipped out as he rolled and pulled at your nipples. god, he always knew how to make you feel so nice. you could feel how hard he was, he wasn't even trying to hide the fact he was grinding against your ass. “i've been thinking about playing with you all day. been thinking ‘bout how good you look bouncing on my dick, how filthy the sounds you make are, how wet you get when i touch you.” a shudder ran down your spine, toji had such a way with making dirty things sound like romance.

he let go of your tits, pushing you down to lay across the bed. you could feel his finger slip under your thong, not bothering to even pull it off but settling for placing it off to the side. his hand felt so big as he gripped your ass, massaging it with a few slaps here and there that made you bite down on your lip to hold back any noises. toys don't make noises. you knew toji liked it when you sounded like a whining, sex driven, bimbo whose only purpose was to cum for him but you liked to have him earn those babbled sentences from you. it was the one little act of control he allowed you.

“god, i love the way your ass moves. im gunna fuck you until your body gives out, gunna have you nothing but a cum covered mess.” you could hear the smirk he wore, you could feel the thick hot dick that was rubbing against your ass, trails of precum being left in its path. “get on your knees and hold it open for me. let's see how wet you are, i bet you’re already leaking for me. such a good fucking girl.” and with a slap on your ass, you were on your knees, chest and face pressed against the mattress with your pussy on full display for him. your hands behind you doing exactly what he said to do. you groaned at the pressure, arching your back even more - desperate to be filled.

he hummed, inserting a finger inside of you. if you weren’t used to how ready your body always was for him, you would have a cringed at the wet sound it made, a few drops landing on the bed. toji always made you feel needy, your mind numb from arousal and thoughts only focusing on looking like a brainless cumslut for him. you wanted to please, you wanted to be good for him.

his finger curled inside of you, hitting the spot that made you let out a highpitched moan, your body slowly moving to fuck yourself on his finger. he laughed at the sight, pushing in two more fingers and starting to thrust and curl inside of you. you bit your lip, eyes rolling in the back of your hand as you started bouncing back on his fingers. “you’re fucking needy. they’re only my fingers, baby. ah, what can i expect from a fucking sex doll, huh? anything to get off right?” toji reached under you, pulling hard at your nipple.

god, your mind was fogged. desperate sounds of want coming out of your mouth, his name being repeated like a broken record. “yes daddy, more please. wanna feel you, wanna be full of your cum. please, pleas-“ he took his fingers out of you, slapping your ass before yanking you up by your hair and pulling you back to his chest. there was a smirk on his scarred lips as he shoved his fingers in your mouth, letting you taste yourself, you sucked on them desperately. staring up at him from under your eyelashes, you couldn’t help but feel so pleased you got to be fucked so good by him. nothing but a doll, nothing but the warmest hole for him to cum in.

toji grabbed your tit, leaning down to suck on the hardened nipple. his teeth grazing it as he teased a bite. your hand went down your stomach, trying to sneakily slip your fingers between yourself. he laughed at that, this time actually biting your nipple in warning. you moaned, hand leaving your stomach and going to grab at his hair. toji pulled back, taking his fingers out of your mouth and pushing you back down on the bed. “roll over. feet on the headboard.” and you listened, lifting your legs slowly over your head until they were touching the headboard, hands reaching down to spread your pussy open for him. he looked so fucking good, staring down at you with dark eyes, dick on full display - hard as he rubbed a hand over it before tapping it against your wetness, rubbing it over your clit over and over and ov-

“please fuck me. please make a mess of it, i want to cum on it while you’re inside. come on toji, stop teasing.” it was so evident he wanted to laugh but instead pulled back completely. leaving you whining and turning your hand over on the pillow. toji tilted his head, looking at you. “last i checked, toys don't talk. stop using your fucking mouth for talking. you’re prettier when you’re moaning and taking my dick.” were you feeling testy today? probably. toji hadn’t used you before he went to work like he usually did. it had been at least 30 hours since you had felt him inside of you. so you bit back, “please, please. just put it in.” you could see the change in his eyes as his hand shot up and wrapped around your throat.

“didn’t i say shut the fuck up?” he was so close to your face, hand so tight around your throat that your head was getting light. you felt scared, he liked it when you were scared. you gasped, trying to breathe as he leaned down to bite at your lip. he pushed back, letting you go as you gasped for air. was it bad that you were more wet now than ever? no, not at all. “you wanna be fucked so bad you’d disobey me?” his eyebrow was raised, a hand going up to run through his hair. was this a rhetorical question? did you have to say anything back?

you didn’t have too. because then he was ramming himself into you and then you were shouting at the force, tears coming into your eyes as he hit your cervix. “fuck,” his voice was breathy, deep, and from his chest as he continued to pound relentlessly into you. your eyes were glued to the bulge that appeared in your stomach with each thrust and his eyes were stuck staring at your face. “is this what you wanted?” he asked, leaning over you so that you were face to face. “wanted me to fuck you like the whore you are? look at you, you’re almost fucked out already.” his finger came up to wipe the drool that was on the corner of you mouth. you hadn’t even realized you were drooling, his dick just felt so fucking good. it was hitting every spot your fingers could never reach, your stomach felt full and your mouth seemed like it couldn't close as you stared at him stuck in pleasure as whine after whine came out of you.

he stared deep into your eyes, making the prettiest sentences out of the nastiest words as he thrusted into you: gonna make you eat the cum out of yourself, look at how your tits bounce when i fuck into you, fucking you so good you’re drooling on yourself. your lower stomach tightened, your legs starting to shake as you felt your orgasm begin to hit you. toji felt so good, so good, so good as he grinded down into you, his hand beginning to rub at your clit. “you gonna cum for me, baby? cum on daddys dick, come on come on.” he encouraged, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge and right when you got there, toji pulled completely back. he just pulled out of you and stopped massaging your clit but the noises you let out as your orgasm was ruined made it sound as if you were grieving. you felt yourself want to sob, hips twisting and head turning while toji laughed above you.

“you didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” you whined as he spoke, running your hands down your body as your hips grinded against nothing. toji grabbed your leg, turning you on your side and throwing your leg up over his shoulder. you looked up at him, his eyes were taking in every curve in your body, you poked out your ass a little, bringing your leg down and wiggled enough to be a tease. toji liked the shows you put on for him and you liked that you could make him turned on. he stroked his dick as he watched you grind down on nothing. “you’re such a fucking slut. you can’t even wait a few more seconds, fucking the air are we?” he slapped your ass, spreading you open so he could position himself while you impatiently pushed down towards him.

toji groaned as he eased slowly back in, grabbing the back of your knee and pushing your leg down on you as he started thrusting in you. for a second you thought you felt his dick pulsing inside of you and felt a warm sensation in your stomach again. the noises you were making must have been turning him on by the second, you sounded so helpless. so pathetic and needy, like if he stopped he was going to kill you. “you take it so well, such a good fucking hole for me. god, you look so filthy. whining and moaning, me fucking you senseless. you can't even make a sentence, beautiful. pathetic.” oh you loved him. you loved him, you never wanted this to stop - the pleasure, the pain, the way his nails digged into you.

you wanted to be as sultry and nasty for him as possible, grabbing your tits in your hands and beginning to suck on your nipple as you stared up at him. his hips stuttered, rhythm messing up and mouth going slack. “just like that baby, fuck.” his rhythm went back to normal, but his eyes were low and his grip was tight and he was rolling his hips and his words werent making sense and, “fuck you’re so tight, so fucking wet for daddy. my fucking hole, my bitch in heat,” your jaw went slack as he started massaging your clit, moans falling out your mouth as your massage at your tits, pinching and pulling at them as they bounced in your hands with each hard thrust. he was all but drilling into you, the headboard slamming against the wall - you kind of felt bad for your neighbors. its like his pace was getting more and more erratic, your stomach tightening and heating up once again. “i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum. daddy! please please, your dick feels so good. ah, im so wet for you fuck fuck fuck.” you were in such a state of pleasure, you fucking forgot you werent supposed to talk. toji didn't seem to mind, he was groaning and squeezing you hard enough to leave bruises.

the sounds of skin slapping skin, the headboard banging loudly, the squelching of each thrust and you all but screaming with pleasure was enough to send you overboard. your body tightening up as you squirted all over his stomach and screamed his name. toji kept massaging at your clit, helping you through your orgasm. “good job, baby. you left a mess all over daddy, fucking beautiful. i love when you cum for me, fuck.” your head was so light, the pleasure turning to overstimulation as he kept playing with you. you were sensitive, your mind telling you to stop but your body still grinding against his hand. you wanted it all, you wanted everything he could give you. desperate.

you knew he was close from how his moans got louder, how his thrusts became more and more forceful. “‘m gonna fill you full of my cum, breed you like the good little bitch you are. you feel so fucking good, such a desperate bitch. youre clamping down on me even after you came. you don’t want daddy to stop, huh? want me to fuck every little thought out of that head of yours?” and then you could feel the hot cum filling you up, you stayed still whining as toji fucked into you like you were just a fleshlight, just a toy for him to use - and you were. his and his only. toji leaned down slowly, kissing you with so much love, rubbing his hands over your sides. “you were such a good girl,” he said, pulling back to kiss over your neck, your shoulder, the top of your breast.

you knew toji loved you. he could have anyone and he wanted you. out there, you didn't know who he was but inside the apartment you shared he was a king. you would treat him as such. so when he pulled out and sat up right, saying clean me off. well, that's just what you did.

[mintyys-blog]

OPEN TABS— bucky barnes

WARNINGS: mentions of smut, implied sex.

Bucky wasn’t the best with modern technology. He could handle the basics—texting, searching things up even using emojis thanks to Sam’s relentless teasing. But beyond that? A struggle.

So when his phone died and he needed to look something up, he turned to your laptop. You had left it open on the couch, and rather than bothering you while you were in the shower, he figured it would be easier just to use it.

Settling onto the couch, he placed the laptop on his lap and tapped the trackpad. The screen lit up, revealing the last thing you had been looking at.

He squinted. AO3?

Curiosity got the best of him. Clicking on the tab, he expected some kind of news article, maybe a research page. But when the page loaded, his expression shifted.

It wasn’t just a story. It was smut. Explicit, filthy, detailed smut.

His eyebrows shot up as he skimmed the words. The more he read, the more his face heated. He was a grown man, he had seen and done a lot of things in his lifetime—but this?

Goodness.

His fingers hovered over the trackpad, debating whether to close the tab and pretend he had never seen it.

But then he caught a particularly detailed paragraph and felt his ears burn.

And the worst part? It was good.

He knew you read, of course. You had your favorite books stacked by the nightstand, a Kindle always nearby. But this—this was something else. And the fact that it was saved, mid-read, meant you And the fact that it was saved, mid-read, meant you had every intention of coming back to it.

Bucky swallowed hard, shifting slightly in his seat as he continued skimming. He probably should’ve stopped. He really should’ve stopped. But his curiosity (and maybe a little bit of something else) had already gotten the better of him.

The language was filthy, the details graphic, and the main character—clearly the one you were envisioning yourself as—was being absolutely wrecked by a man who sounded suspiciously like…

Him.

Bucky’s lips parted slightly, his brows furrowing as realization hit. This wasn’t just a random story you’d stumbled upon. You had been reading this. Thinking about this.

A slow smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.

Well, well, well.

Bucky exhaled, suddenly feeling very warm. He shut the laptop and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head with an amused chuckle. He had no idea you were reading stuff like that. But now that he did…

He was never letting you live this down.

The incident completely left his mind—until later that night.

The two of you were tangled up in bed, bodies pressed together, skin against skin. The room was dark, save for the soft glow of the city lights outside, and the air was thick with heat and want.

Bucky moved above you, lips trailing over your skin, fingers tracing paths down your spine. The little noises you made sent a rush of satisfaction through him, spurring him on as he pressed closer.

He didn’t even think before the words left his mouth.

“You like that, don’t you? So desperate for me you can’t even think straight.”

You shivered at the words, arching against him, and he smirked, reveling in the way your body responded.

It wasn’t until after—when you were both sprawled out on the bed, bodies still humming from pleasure—that your brain finally caught up.

Something about that sentence…

You blinked up at the ceiling, your chest still rising and falling as your post-orgasm haze started to fade. And then—Wait a damn second.

Your stomach dropped.

Your head snapped to the side, staring at Bucky in pure horror.

He was lying there with a satisfied grin, one arm tucked behind his head, looking completely unbothered.

“…Did you just quote something?”

Bucky went completely still.

A slow, creeping suspicion slithered down your spine. You narrowed your eyes. “James Buchanan Barnes.”

His lips twitched. “I—uh—”

“Oh my god.” You sat up, the blanket slipping from your chest as mortification set in. “You snooped! You read my—”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Look, it wasn’t intentional! I went to use your laptop, and the tab was just open. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not read it?!”

“I got curious!” he defended, laughing as you groaned and buried your face in your hands.

“This is so embarrassing.”

Bucky smirked, reaching out to gently pry your hands away. “C’mon, doll, you gotta admit it’s kinda funny.”

“No, it’s mortifying.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better,” he teased, lips brushing against your cheek, “I’m honored you think about me like that.”

You let out a strangled noise, smacking his shoulder, but that only made him laugh harder.

“You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best,” he corrected, grinning as he pulled you back down into his arms. “And now I know exactly how to keep you happy.”

You groaned, still burning with embarrassment—but when he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, you couldn’t help but smile.

[ithinkthiswasabadidea]

I'm not anywhere really near or into Kingdom Come: Deliverance, but since the second game released recently, I've seen a lot of new attention on my social medias, particularly around Henry and Hans' relationship

And I, very obviously, love queer characters and relationships, and even moreso the canon ones, so I watched the IGN video explaining how one might romance Hans in the second game

Man. I was blown away.

By now I've played a handful of rpg's and romanced a handful of npc's, but not ONCE has the dialogue and action of a confession scene ever felt quite so real and as beautifully acted

I have almost zero other context about the games or characters, yet I haven't stopped thinking about that romance scene in days

That you build up the affection and genuine care for Hans through dialogue choices feels completely non-forced, and you can tell that Hans enjoys your presence and respects you immensely. Henry gently encouraging and helping Hans when he's uncomfortable, always concerned about his wellbeing. There's such a solid foundation of mutual trust that even I, as an outside viewer, can tell that both men truly would put their lives in the others hands

And then the confession scene itself? Henry coming to say goodbye, and because of the work that has been put in to convey Henry's feelings of care and devotion for Hans, it's Hans himself who starts the conversation. He tells a story that he 'doesn't have his own words for', displaying that he's uncertain about how this might go, but knowing that it needs to be said before Henry leaves. He's both deflecting and projecting, using this story as a way to cushion the segue into his own feelings, or the blow of rejection should it come. And as Hans imagines something terrible happening to Henry, he immediately gets emotional, voice shaking, knowing he'd be unable to help

There's a small moment as Henry reassures that he'll be alright, when he places a hand on top of Hans' and this small, delightfully hopeful smile appears on Hans' face. I take this to be the moment where Hans believes that Henry has understood his story, and his way of confessing his feelings, and that Henry feels the same way about him. Then Henry stands, moving to leave and Hans' smile drops. Perhaps Henry's confidence falters here, and before he can reciprocate his true feelings and kiss him, Hans is running on adrenaline and courage and pulls Henry into the kiss instead, before he can second-guess himself

It's awkward, uncertain. Hans has this almost crushing grip on Henry like he's barely sure what he's just done, just that he couldn't let him walk away without doing something . And when Henry turns his head and steps back, noises of shock and breathlessness, Hans jumps back like he's been burned and spurned. He's stammering and stuttering out an apology, quiet and upset, unlike his usual self

Hans' body language as he turns away, making himself smaller, making more space between them than is necessary, it displays how he thinks his actions have just been perceived - that Henry doesn't feel the same way, he just ruined a perfectly good friendship, he's made himself look weak. He rubs at his mouth like he wishes he could remove the feel of Henry's lips against his own, tries apologising again, gasping for air, screws up his face in anxiety or anger for his recklessness......

Then Henry makes his own decision and speeds back over to him, pulling him into an even more crushing embrace and kiss, before they make their way over to the bed

The acting direction here in this scene is just so delectablely real . It looks and feels like I'm a fly on the wall of a real life confession, where both men are less than certain about their futures, and even less certain about how their relationship is perceived in the others eyes. Hans is visibly scared of rejection when Henry turns his back, Henry is visibly coming to terms with what he wants in this moment

The reactions are the most natural thing in the world, especially in a game that strives for realism. There was clearly a great deal of care that went into writing and directing this relationship, and with how naturally it progressed to this climax

And I think that's where the divide is for me, when I think about the romance options in BG3 or other rpgs, because there is something more flowery and shiny about those romances that I've experienced. Like they're too perfect, too polished and rehearsed, no room to have any fuck ups or moments of imperfection. But it's the awkwardness and show of non-positive emotions and reactions, rather than immediate lust and experience, that really pins the Henry and Hans scene above the rest

There's probably more I could say, and I'm sure there's more that others who know these characters and the games could say, but I just wanted to get my thoughts into some words and hope that it strikes true with someone else

I don't think I've ever seen a romance scene in a video game, that has felt so genuine as this. A thousand kudos to the actors for Hans and Henry, and the writers and directors for this marvellously curated scene ❤️

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Seong Gi Hun X Reader: Make believe

A/n: the love i have for this man isn't normal. I need him so bad 😚

Warnings: fluff, age gap, kissing, talks of death, Jung Bae being a cockblocker (slightly), gn reader, pet names (sweetheart), not proofread.

Word count: 1.9K

“I don’t want to die.”

The words slip from your lips before you can stop them. It’s a silly thing to say, a sort of obvious affirmation that didn’t need to be verbalized but ended up making its way out your mouth anyway. You're staring at the ground, knees pressed to your chest. You don’t look up but you can feel him gazing at you from where he sits beside you. 

Gi hun watches you for a moment, not knowing how to respond to your confession. You were the quieter one from the group, often keeping to yourself. Gi hun wanted to tell you it would be alright. He’d been here before, he knew what would happen. Or at least he thought he did. He wasn’t so sure anymore. But he would never tell you that. Not with the way you looked now, your body so tense from fear he was surprised you weren’t shaking next to him. 

“I wanted to go to college. I knew we couldn’t afford it but my mom said it would be ok.”

Gi hun listened as you talked, a small frown gracing his features.

“I could tell things were getting bad when the letters started coming. Mom said it was nothing but I knew better. I started working to help her pay but it wasn’t enough and then she…”

You took a deep breath in, eyes closing as you tried to blink back tears. Gi hun's hand twitched beside him, the need to place a comforting touch on your shoulder was threatening to consume him.

“She got sick and we couldn’t pay the bills. I watched her fade away and there wasn’t anything I could do to help.”

You finally raise your head, looking into the darkness for the first time.

“She did a good job at keeping me in the dark. I only found out how bad the debt was after she passed.”

Memories flooded Gi huns brain. Your words made him remember things he wished he could erase from his mind. 

“I joined so I could pay them back. So I could get my degree.”

You let out a bitter laugh, turning to face Gi hun for the first time since you’d started talking.

“Don’t think that's gonna happen huh?”

Gi hun's hand made its way to your shoulder, his big eyes looking at you with such determination that it almost frightened you. 

“We are going to end the games. And when we get out you’ll go back to college and get your degree. I promise.”

You wanted so badly to believe him. You trusted Gi hun with your life but you weren’t one to believe in miracles. And that's what it seemed like you were wishing for. A miracle. 

Your eyes moved to Gi huns lips before darting back to his eyes. Ever since you’d met him you’d felt a strange pull towards him. You shifted your body slowly, inching yourself closer to the older man. If he was aware of your small movements he didn't show it. It was only when your shoulder brushed against his that he displayed any reaction to the proximity. He gazed at you with a questioning look. You watched his lips open to ask you something but before the words could come out you covered his mouth with yours.

Gi hun was frozen for a moment, he didn’t know how to react. He could feel your lips on his, your warm breath fawning over his cheek but he couldn’t move. He had never expected you to do something like this. You were at least two decades younger than him. He would have never thought you would be attracted to a guy like him.

His lack of reaction made you self conscious. You knew it was a risky move. A stupid move even. But with death looming over your every breath you seemed to stop thinking clearly. You pulled away quickly, desperately trying to put distance between you and the older man.

“Sorry i don’t know where that came from i’ll-”

You moved to get up, your heart beating so loudly it seemed to drown out any other sound. You would go wake one of the others up to keep Gi hun company. You couldn’t trust yourself to not do something stupid again. But before you managed to lift yourself off the ground, Gi huns hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Don’t go.”

Your brows furrowed at his words. You’d expected him to tell you that this was inappropriate. That he was far too old for you. But instead his hand found its way to your cheek, caressing it softly. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to go.”

Your shoulders relaxed at his words, your body slowly settling back into his previous position. 

“I shouldn’t have kissed you without asking. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You were caught up in the moment. It’s all the fear this place causes. It makes you not think straight.”

Except that you weren’t not thinking straight. In fact this was the most sure you’d been of yourself for the last two days. 

“Gi hun.”

“Yes?”

“What if I wasn't caught up in the moment? What if i just really wanted to-”

“I’m too old.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“You would. If we weren’t in here, locked in with each other, you wouldn’t have spared me a second glance.”

“That’s not true. You’re very handsome.”

Gi hun couldn’t help but flush at the words.

“Plus, I happen to have a thing for older men.”

You gave him a shy smile and Gi hun couldn’t help but laugh. You watched him shake his head at you. You moved your hand to his face, cupping his cheek as he had done to you moments prior. Gi hun looked at you with those wide puppy eyes of his and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. 

“What would you have done if we met at a bar or something?”

The question was made to distract you. Gi hun knew you needed to think about something other than the games for a moment and he was more than willing to help you out. You guided your thumb against his cheek causing him to close his eyes. You continued to caress him as you thought of how to answer his question. 

“I’d be on the dance floor, swaying to the music that was blaring. You’d be sitting in a corner near the bar, a beer in your hand.”

Gi hun would never go to a club that played loud music but he kept the thought to himself, not wanting to ruin the moment. 

“From the moment I caught a look at you I would be able to tell you needed some company but I wouldn't walk over to you right away. Well, not without taking a shot anyway.”

Gi hun’s hand made its way to your thigh, squeezing it slightly in an attempt to tell you he was listening despite his eyes still being closed. Little did he know you’d shut your eyes too, desperately trying to conjure up the images of what  you were describing to him in your mind. 

“After my bit of liquid courage I'd finally make my way to you. I’d take a seat right beside you, staying quiet until you noticed me.”

“I’d notice you the moment you sat down. Wouldn’t be able to resist such a pretty sight.”

You flushed at that. You hoped he was still with his eyes closed so he couldn't see what his words did to you. 

“What would you say to me?”

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a shitty place like this.”

You laughed, opening your eyes. Gi hun watched you as you laughed.

“What? Too cliche?”

You smiled at him, your hand moving to rest on his chest.

“A little. But it’s okay. I like cliches.”

Gi hun gave you a grin and you nearly fainted at the sight. He’d smiled in front of you before, of course,  but it was always a brief smile and it was never directed at you. He had such a lovely smile. You wished you could see it more. His hand moved to your face, tucking a stray hair behind your ears before moving to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch, adoring the feeling of his warm skin on yours. Gi hun called out your name in a whisper.

“Yes Gi hun?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You couldn’t hold back the smile that spread over your face.

“Please do.”

Gi hun was gentle. He inched himself closer to your body in a slow pace, his lips settling against yours in what you could only describe as a loving manner. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into you. You would have stayed all night like this if you could but a sudden cough made you break apart.

The two of you turned to look at where the sound had come from. Jung Bae stood behind you in the darkness, a barely contained grin plastered on his features. Your face flushed with embarrassment. Gi hun wasn’t better off, his hand moving to the back of his neck awkwardly. But his discomfort only lasted a second because soon he was turning to Jung Bae.

“What is it?”

His tone made it clear that he was a bit annoyed at his friend. 

“It’s time to switch shifts.”

“Oh.”

Gi hun looked at you with a bit of disappointment. You got up from your spot so that Jung Bae could sit down. Before you left you leaned down and placed a kiss on Gi hun's cheek. 

“When your turn’s over, come lay down with me, ok?”

“Okay.”

“Night.”

“Sleep well.”

You’d barely made it four steps from the two of them before Jung Bae started teasing Gi hun. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

Later that evening you lay in your bed, trying to rest but unable to sleep. You heard the sound of footsteps causing you to turn to your side. You could barely see him in the dark but you recognized his stance immediately. You shifted in your bed, making a space near your body before patting the spot. Gi hun inched himself onto the bed, a sigh escaping his lips when he finally managed to lay down. The two of you looked at each other for a moment. 

“You can come closer if you want.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Gi hun shifted until your head was pressed against his chest. your arm moved to rest against his waist. The older man gave a content hum at the action, adoring the way you nuzzled into him. 

“I have a proposition.”

“Is that so? Okay, then let’s hear it.”

“When we get out of here you can take me on a proper date.”

“To a fancy restaurant?”

“It doesn't have to be. I don’t care where we go as long as we go together.”

Gi huns chest tightened at your words. Here you were making plans for when you got out and he wasn’t even sure his plan would even work. He wanted to believe it would but he also knew the risks. He pushed down his fear, opting instead to look down at you. You gazed up at him as his hand moved to caress your face.

“When we get out of here we’ll go anywhere you want sweetheart.”

He placed a kiss to your lips as if he was sealing his promise to you with it. Content with his answer you nuzzled into his chest, your eyes closing as sleep took over your body for the first time in hours. 

[tsuyalovebot]

ur writing is insane, i love it sm!!!

any thoughts on caleb with a biiiit of a gentle— soft ‘daddy’ persona? 😼

hello! first of all, thank you so much! i'm really happy knowing that the way i write for caleb is well received :] second, i am SO sorry this took so long to get out, i didn't even notice i had this in my inbox (; ; )

for caleb though, i can definitely see that coming to life. he's got a parental vibe to the way he nurtures mc. to look at it one way, our caleb right now feels very brotherly. a lot of it has to do with their banter and how he treats mc. another way of seeing him is when he's the colonel. very commanding, no questions asked, expectant, and domineering. i feel like a soft daddy persona would fall between those two. he doesn't need to be excessively stern, but he toes that line instead.

i don't know if i'm envisioning him correctly (i have never written for this specific persona before, and i don't often consume mentioned persona either). but here's my take nonnie!

most of the stuff caleb says and does comes off as nagging in the eyes of mc. he'd have to establish some sense of quiet authority over you to shift the narrative. making you feel protected and taken care of. maybe he cuts back a bit on the teasing from time to time, and whenever you start to edge into an argument (hah), it's then that i imagine he takes control of it. he did it before, surely; instances of him treating you a parent would their child. it kind of leaves you a bit more meek. not as resistant.

you'd cross the line in one way or another. he was trying hard to not really go too far — it wasn't that big of a deal, it was simply about your tendency to come home late when visiting skyhaven. but, the words leave you with such startling sharpness that it leaves the both of you reeling. and you watch, in real time, as caleb slips and slides from your fingertips.

"you know you were wrong to say that, right?" he starts. nothing gives away any sign of anger, irritation, nor vexation. the words come out measured.

he isn't chastising you. not yet.

and you know you were wrong, you knew that saying that obviously wasn't the smartest decision on your part. and yet, the bitter phrases still left you with ease. he's watching you now, expectant.

you're quiet. he notices.

"i'm not mad," he says, voice softer now. from where he's standing, he's tall and looming and pressuring. but with every tentative step taken toward you, subtracting the distance separating your bodies, there's nothing intimidating.

his hands find yours, tightly clasped on your lap. each digit that was wringing itself slowly undid the curl, the tight clasp. the expertise in his manner of undoing you was methodical.

"but you gotta be kinder, you know that." the assurance comes in a subtle form of advice, not at all suffocating. and yet you're nodding along with his words, letting him pull, wind you up in his arms, and sway side to side.

it's oddly soothing. you can't really curse at him like this, not that you'd try.

"so well-behaved. that's it."

your face buried in his chest in silent apology, his lips on your hair. when he uses his fingers to hold your chin and experimentally move your head, you don't resist, looking up at him. you don't know when you started looking for approval in those quietly commanding eyes of his.

"good. that's good," he whispers, smiling.

you blurt the words on instinct. "i'm sorry."

he hums. "you're forgiven. you gonna do it again?"

"no."

his smile widens, and he leans down. when he kisses you, it's slow. methodical. and you're like melted butter in those few seconds, even as he's settling the two of you down onto the couch. you're on his lap and kissing him, barely catching how he murmurs, "i know you won't."