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stuffkin · 3 years ago

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futaba spends a day on the town with ryuji. everything goes terribly wrong.

i think this is my final thing for @mcschnuggles’ potluck (AND it’s puzzleverse!) bc it’s 4am where i am and i’m starting to crash but who knows! maybe i’ll do something after sleep lolol

ao3 link!

Why did she think she could do this? She should have listened to her brain, not her heart and its stupid want for something more. But she’d thought she’d leveled up enough for this, and she isn’t alone, and, and, and–

Ryuji won’t look at her.

He won’t let go of her hand, but he won’t look at her. What does it mean, that he won’t look at her?

Futaba wants to go home. But she’d promised Sojiro and Akira she’d be okay. Promised Ann. Promised Ryuji.

She isn’t sure the promise to Ryuji matters anymore.

It was supposed to be a small group outing. Her, Ryuji, Ann. Two of a pair, they were, determined to add one more pea to their pod. And the worst part is, Futaba wanted–wants–that. But Ann got whisked away at the very last second by her nefarious agency for an emergency fill-in. A plot twist Futaba hadn’t expected, but should have, because of course an outing to Akihabara wouldn’t go like she wants. Like she needs. Never does.

Ann apologized to both of them, said they could reschedule. Ryuji waved her off, professing they’d be fine without her if Futaba wanted to forge ahead. A classic mistake on Futaba’s part–split-ups always lead to trouble. She’d agreed anyway.

She pretended not to see the panic that had flashed across Ryuji’s face as Ann left.

He hasn’t looked at her since.

Now, they’re wandering the aisles of the most cramped game store Futaba’s ever been in, and believe it or not, she’s been in quite a few.

Small places are not her friend. Not with the way the walls seem to close in on her and the noise bounces around her and the people–oh, God, the people. The games are merely a mimic to lure her into the enemy trap. Still, they’ve been in the shop for twenty minutes already, which Futaba is pretty darn good, especially since people keep cramming into the miniscule space. And for once, she can’t blame them; the games on display are fantastic. It even makes her forget about her worries for a hot second.

“Hey, what do you think about this one?” Futaba picks up a case and flips it over. “It has werewolves.”

“Sure,” Ryuji says, even though the answer makes no sense with the question. He flinches when someone brushes by him. It strikes Futaba as wrong, somehow. “Let’s get it.”

He didn’t even look at the game. “Um. Okay.” Any excitement Futaba had gained fizzles away quickly, once more replaced with the suffocating fear that Ryuji doesn’t like her. Suddenly the bright colors and even brighter lights don’t seem so fun anymore. When Ryuji leads her to the cashier, she barely notices that Ryuji’s the one to pay for the game. She barely notices when they leave the shop. She almost misses Ryuji’s question.

“Is there anywhere else you want to go?” Usually, there’s a bounce to Ryuji’s voice when he asks questions. Now, it falls flat. Tired. Bored. Oddly tight, like a spring ready to pop. She knew it; he doesn’t want to be around her anymore. Who can blame him? She can barely stand herself.

“U-um…” Futaba tries to mask her anxiety. But everything she’d scripted for the day fries in her brain. Corrupted data, cannot be saved. Her throat aches from how hard she’s trying not to cry. “N-no.”

“Okay.” Ryuji’s shoulders sag, just a bit, and how is Futaba supposed to interpret that as anything other than relief? “Let’s head back to Leblanc then.”

Neither of them say anything else all the way to the train station. It’s all Futaba can do to keep her breathing under control. There’s no way she’s going to waste her breath on words! But even as terribly as she’s feeling, she does have to admit she feels a little better now that they’re at the end of their adventure with home waiting just on the other side. The knot in her chest loosens just the tiniest bit.

If only Ryuji would look at her. Or say something, even if it’s something incredibly stupid like, Hey, wouldn’t it be neat if ducks could shoot lasers out their eyes? or I had a dream about a giant pink squid the other night. He doesn’t even notice that she keeps peeking at him. His eyes are locked on the opposite wall. It’s a far away enough look that she could probably pull free of his ridiculously sweaty hand to do a jig and he wouldn’t even notice. Before she can seriously consider testing this theory, the train arrives. Futaba jumps; Ryuji barely blinks as it whooshes by.

Boarding is a nightmare. People are packed wall to wall like molecules in a block of ice. If only it were that cold. It leaves them little room to squeeze on and just enough space to be squished against one of the walls. Oh, she wishes they would have waited for the next one, or the one after that, but she certainly isn’t going to be the one to break their mutual silence. It’s a game now. A special form of denial to soothe the sting.

Ryuji’s fingers twitching in her grasp has her glancing upward in spite of herself. At first, her only thought is That’s not Ryuji. But of course it is, because there’s no one else besides them with an obnoxiously bright dye-job. The whole set of his face, though, is all wrong. A jumbled up slide puzzle. Like before, his eyes are fixed on nothing, but the corners pinch into little creases, and there’s a faint blush creeping up his neck to grip his jaw. Futaba wonders how he hasn’t cracked a tooth from how tightly it’s clenched. The worst part is what she can hear. She shouldn’t be able to hear it over the sound of the clattering train and chattering people, not to mention her headphones, but she hears a rattly breath that comes out too short.

Oh. Oh. Futaba’s watched herself in mirrors enough times to know what’s happening. Morbid curiosity. She’s also spied on Ryuji–all of the thieves–enough times to know a tell when she sees one, even if she’s not sure what it’s telling. A different kind of curiosity.

Ryuji’s teetering on the edge of a panic attack. That explains so much.

Suddenly, she’s feeling so much better about the day. Well. Not about Ryuji, but the fact that it isn’t her fault. She thinks. She can figure that out later.

“Hey, look at me.” Her voice is a little strained, but it gets the job done. Nervous eyes glance at her before flicking away again. Without letting go of his hand, she wriggles her way into his line of sight. “I said look at me.”

Ryuji freezes, biting his lip again, but he looks at her. Oh, yeah. Her guess is right on the money; while she has the attention of the meatsuit his brain drives around, there’s not much going on behind those big brown eyes. Knock knock. Nobody’s home.

“Okay, good,” she says, even though it isn’t. “You’re okay, we’re okay. You don’t like trains?” She doesn’t give him a chance to answer. “Me neither! They’re like a super hard dungeon teeming with enemies! But it’s okay because we’re together.”

A quick squeeze to her fingers tells her that she hasn’t lost him yet. Good. Because if Futaba’s being honest with herself, she’s barely holding on to her own thread. Almost out of life points. If Ryuji weren’t feeling so bad, too, she’s pretty damn certain that she’d be the one having a panic attack.

She continues monologuing all the way to Yongen-Jaya. Anything to keep them both distracted and tethered to his hellish plane–train–of existence. As they finally, finally, step out of the station into thankfully empty streets, Futaba spread out one arm and takes a deep breath. “Freedom.” Ryuji doesn’t say anything, but she hadn’t expected him to. He still looks like he’s about to come apart at the seams. Futaba takes control of player one and tugs him along to Leblanc.

They barely get through the door before Sojiro’s onto them. He barely gets a glance in before he’s setting down his crossword. “What happened?”

If Futaba hadn’t been so worn down, she would have laughed at how quickly Akira spins his head. It’s like he’s possessed. He must have popped it, because he grimaces and presses his hand against it. He’s quicker on the uptake than Sojiro. “I got them.” Stepping around the counter, he ushers them both towards the stairwell.

Ryuji makes a beeline for Akira’s bed as soon as they’re up the stairs, tucking himself into the corner with no hesitation, as though he’s done this a million times. Perhaps he has. Futaba knows she’d go to Akira if she felt poorly. In fact, she has. Several times now. What piques her interest, though, is the way Morgana slinks into Ryuji’s lap without a word. The way Ryuji’s hands automatically start smoothing down the fur. The duo are so normally at each other’s throats that the flipped switch is downright bizarre. Unscripted. A glitch.

Akira barely glances at them before turning to Futaba. “What happened? Are you okay?”

She keeps her answer simple. “Too many people. Too high-level for me. Us, I guess.” She peeks around Akira at Ryuji, who keeps his head ducked and face hidden. Morgana’s murmuring to him, but she’s still too far away to make it out. “I didn’t think crowds got to him.”

“They don't.” Akira grimaces. As much as his blank slate of a face can grimace, anyway. Futaba would love to program a model of him just to see how many wacky faces she could give him. Her attention surfaces as he speaks again. “Not usually, anyway. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Futaba takes a moment to run through the diagnostic checklist. Jittery, check. Fatigued, triple check. Nothing sounds more wonderful than curling up with her stuffed unicorn underneath her weighted blanket.

It also doesn’t seem as bad as it usually does after such a scare. The anxiety’s still there, yes, but dulled. Maybe she’s getting better. The more logical answer is that the variables are different–someone needed her more than she needed them. Ryuji needed her. Later, once she’s recharged, she’ll run a control test.

But, right now, Akira is waiting patiently, expectantly, for an answer. “I’m okay,” she answers truthfully. “Better now I’m at home base.”

The corner of Akira’s mouth curls upward, and he pats the top of her head. The warmth and weight of his hand smooth over the frayed edges nicely. “Good.”

She tries peeking around Akira again. “Is he okay?”

“He will be,” Akira says, as though it were he who had been on the train with Ryuji and not her. He glances back towards the bed. When he shares a look with Morgana, his eyes narrow, just enough for Futaba, Queen of Noticing Things, to notice. Whatever decision he’s trying to reach doesn’t take long to come. “Hang on.” Leaving her near the stairs, he pads over to the bed and crouches next to it. The soft murmures between he, Morgana, and Ryuji are still too soft for Futaba to hear. The small zing of anxiety–they’re talking about her!–is tamped only by the urge to stamp her foot–it’s not fair!

But it doesn’t take long for Akira to return to her. “Futaba, this is important, okay? Can you keep this a secret?”

“Scout’s honor,” Futaba answers, in spite of never being a scout.

Akira nods, appeased. Raising his hand, he twists one of the loose curls dangling in front of his glasses. “Have you heard of age regression?”

Regression. Well, there’s a familiar word that she never thought she’d hear out loud, let alone from Akira, let alone about Ryuji. Barely half a beat passes before she ducks around Akira to flop onto the bed. “We have a baby!?”

Ryuji’s head flies up in alarm. If she’d thought his eyes were wide before… Behind her, Akira shuffles closer to the bed. “Calm down, Futaba.”

“But baby!” She pulls herself up into her usual perched position. Logically, she knows there’s no reason for her to be so excited. After all, it’s pretty clear that Ryuji regressed from stress, and that’s not a whole lot of fun. She assumes. But at the same time, she wants him to know it’s okay. That he can do what he needs to feel better.

Still, maybe it is a bit much, given the circumstances. “Sorry, Ryuji.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. When he does, his voice comes out soft, softer than Futaba’s ever heard it. “‘Sokay. ‘Cited.”

“Of course I am!” She flings her arms out, whacking Akira in the stomach. She pays the quiet grunt no mind. “How can I not be with an itty bitty kiddo to play with?” She pauses and tilts her head. “Are you itty bitty?”

A shrug from Ryuji. From Akira, “That would be a yes.” The floor creaks as Akira walks away from the bed.

While Akira does whatever it is he’s doing, Futaba rests her chin on her knees and lowers her voice. “Do you want me to go?” To her surprise and glee and relief, Ryuji quickly shakes his head. She beams. Not that she’s going to tell anyone, but she doesn’t think she’d feel too good alone right now. The irony isn’t lost on her.

Ryuji stops petting Morgana long enough to pat the spot next to him. Futaba wastes no time in scrambling to sit next to him. “How on earth are you so cute?” Even as she’s giggling at how quickly his ears turn red, she’s filing that information away for later. Her brain is buzzing at mach speed to process everything.

“He’s cute when he wants to be,” Morgana concedes, pushing his head against Ryuji’s hand. “He knows how to use it to his advantage.”

Even though he doesn’t say anything, Ryuji’s face twists. Then he mutters, almost too quick and too quiet for either of them to catch it. “‘M sorry.”

“What?” Futaba blinks owlishly while her stomach sinks. She thinks she knows where this is going. “Ryuji, there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Uh-huh.” Fingers drumming nervously along Morgana’s back, Ryuji is nothing but nervous energy again. “Messed today up.”

“No, you didn’t.” Futaba loops her arm around Ryuji’s. “We’re still hanging out, aren’t we? And,” she adds as Akira returns with a bag and sits at the foot of the bed, “we get special rights to boss this nerd around!”

“You do that anyway,” Akira points out. He opens the bag, but doesn’t take anything out. His eyes flick to Ryuji. “Do you want…?”

Ryuji ignores him. “Wanna keep hangin’ out,” he tells Futaba earnestly. “‘M sorry if you thought I didn’t.”

Futaba blinks again in surprise. He’d picked up on that? What else does he notice? Still it tugs the knot of worry from before completely free. “It’s okay! You were feeling pretty blegh, huh? You could have said something.”

“You didn’ say anythin’.”

“Because I thought I was gonna mess it up!” Futaba pokes Ryuji’s cheek. “We’re a couple of silly geese.”

For the first time that day, Ryuji cracks a smile. “Uh-huh.”

Akira scratches his leg. “Wasn’t Ann supposed to be with you?”

“She had to leave.” Futaba pouts. “Evil agency swept our princess away to another castle.”

“I see.” He fiddles with the clasp on the bag. His eyes flick to Ryuji. “Did she know?” Ryuji’s face burns. When he shakes his head, Akira sighs quietly. “Did you know?” This time, Ryuji turns his face to the wall. It’s the answer Akira was afraid of, if his frown is anything to go by.

As much as Futaba wants to ask, she pockets the questions for later. “Akiraaaa, we’re thirsty.”

The frown turns upside down. “Oh, are you?” Tapping the bed to get Ryuji’s attention again, he asks, gently, “Water or juice?” A complicated feeling crosses Ryuji’s face. All scrunched up with feelings that have nowhere to go. Instead of saying anything, he holds up one feeling. Akira nods. “Okay.” To Futaba, he says, “I’ll get you juice.”

“How come I don’t get a choice?”

“Do you want water?”

“...no. But make it orange juice!” she demands. Akira ruffles both of their hair before leaving them be. Futaba exhales loudly through her nose. “He’s so fussy.”

“Bubba’s the bes’.” Ryuji rubs his eye. “Taba’s bes’, too. ‘N’ Momo.”

Morgana flicks his tail. “Yeah, you better not forget about me.”

“Don’t bully the baby, Momo.” Futaba reaches over and squishes his cheek.

“I’m not!” Morgana whines, bristling. It makes both Ryuji and Futaba giggle.

When the laughter subsides and Ryuji’s placating Morgana with more pets, Futaba picks up the bag. Something rattles around inside. “What’s in here?”

“Um.” Ryuji hesitates. He must decide the contents aren’t worth secrecy, because he follows up with, “Baby stuff.”

“Can I see?” Once she has the go-ahead, Futaba peers inside. It’s about what she’d expect from a baby bag, but if she’s being honest, she’d expected more. A few sippy cups, a pacifier, a blanket. Tucked away at the bottom is a bottle that looks like it’s never been touched. But that’s all. No toys, no nothing. Does Ryuji not like playing when he’s regressed? Have they just not figured out what he likes to do yet? Maybe he just likes cuddles? Maybe he has more stuff at home? As much as Futaba already knows, she has next to no information about Ryuji’s specific brand of babydom. Later, she’ll poke and she’ll prod so she knows everything about it. Right now, though, she frees the blanket and wraps it around Ryuji’s shoulders. “Ooooh, this is so soft!”

Some of the tension in Ryuji’s body drains away. He shifts a little closer to Rutaba. “Mhm. Bubba got it for me.”

“That was super nice of him, huh?” Futaba rests her head against Ryuji’s. “We’re super lucky to have him.”

A frizzy head pokes up over the railing. “You two talking about me?” Akira asks as he rejoins them. In his hands are two water bottles and a cup of juice. He hands the juice to Futaba.

Futaba sips her juice. The coolness soothes a dull ache in her throat that she didn’t realize was there until now. “Just about how much of a dork you are.”

Akira scoffs as he grabs one of the sippy cups with water and hands it to Ryuji. “Takes one to know one.”

“Hey!” Futaba nudges Ryuji. “What do you think, bub? Who’s the bigger dork?” Ryuji sips his water quietly before pointing at Akira. Futaba crows in delight while Akira gasps and presses his hand to his chest. They can see the edges of a smile from behind the spout of the cup. Mission accomplished, Futaba thinks. She nudges Akira with her foot. “We wanna watch something.”

“Oh, do you?” Akira raises an eyebrow. “What’s the magic word?”

She leans towards Ryuji again. “Can you help me, bud?” Nodding, he whispers something into her ear. Grinning wildly, she also points at Akira. “Abracadabra!”

With an overexaggerated sigh, Akira slides off the bed and grabs his laptop. While he’s setting it up, Futaba gently taps her fingers against Ryuji’s cheek. “Thank you for sharing this with me, baby. And for spending time with me. I’m sorry today wasn’t a very good day.”

“‘Sokay. Ryuji slides down until he can rest his head on her shoulder. “‘S better now. Lots of ‘sperience points.”

“You’re right! You’re so smart, bub.” As they all settle in for an episode of Sonic–she’s not surprised in the slightest–Futaba mulls it over. All of her worries from the beginning of the day seem more like a dream than reality. Deleted. And with this li’l guy by her side, it won’t be long until they level up, together.

#snugs potluck #age regression #agere #sfw agere #persona agere #agere fic #stuff writes

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apocxlypticangel · 3 years ago

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sated (bucky barnes)

Prompt: Bucky helps you wind down after a tough day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Spoilers:None

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, mentions of unsatisfactory masturbation, hint of degradation, mention of muscle relaxer.(just shameless smut definitely not based off of real life frustrations)

Authors note: First time writing something like this, kinda nervous. Please leave your thoughts and positive feedback/criticism. Thank you, lovelies!

18+ puh-lease! thank you! :)

After about an hour of unsuccessful attempts to ease your stress, the clock now read 4:00am. Throwing your head back, you sighed. Fuck me. “Ha, that would be nice.” you snort, quickly throwing on a t-shirt and panties before leaving your room to find your way to the compound kitchen in the dark. You needed water and a muscle relaxer, anything to ease the tension in your neck and the pain in your head. It had been a stressful day... or week. Or month.

Once you reached the kitchen you flicked the light on, making quick and noisy work of getting your glass and filling it with water. You thought nothing of it, its 4am and the compound is like a damn castle. You looked over the counter into the living room, debating on whether or not to find something on TV to drown out your desperation, but quickly find a pair of sleepy blue eyes staring directly at you from the couch. Of course it was Bucky fucking Barnes. Suddenly you were very aware of your minuscule attire.

“Could you be any louder, doll? I wasn’t quite ready to go to sleep yet.” He grumbled out, raising one eyebrow at you and tracing your body with his eyes. Your surely disheveled hair, dry lips and eye bags probably weren’t helping your situation. “I could be louder actually. Maybe you should sleep in your room, Barnes?” You accidentally snapped and then sighed. “Sorry, ‘m sorry. That was rude of me.” His slightly annoyed expression quickly turned into a frown while he stared at your exhausted form. “What’s wrong, doll? Can I help with anything?” His eyes softened when you slumped down at his questions. Of course you could help. You could come fuck me. Before you realized you had even said it under your breathe Bucky’s eyes narrowed. You slapped your hand over your mouth, mentally cursing yourself for being so stupid.

“So that’s what’s wrong?” He hesitantly inquired. You were now pinching your nose between your pointer finger and thumb. “You know, maybe I’ve had a rough day and maybe all I wanted to do was fucking orgasm, but that’s not really any of your business..” You heard a faint chuckle, shuffling and then feet padding across the floor before they stopped in front of you, “It is when you ask me to fuck you, sweetheart” You could just hear the smugness dripping from his voice, but it dissipated as soon as the pet name came out.

Tiredly, you drug your eyes up to meet Bucky’s and sighed. After today, your brain was fried and you could have been defeated by Groot at this moment. “Do you want me to help you?” he offered quietly, eyes flitting away from yours for a millisecond. You stood there, looking at the boy- no, the man in front of you. It was only now you noticed he was shirtless with a pair of sweats hanging low on his hips. His abs carved perfectly along with the v-shape that disappeared into his pants. This man was built like a fucking Greek God.

“I-... I don’t-“ You stumbled over your words, cheeks flushing. “All you have to do is ask, doll. Tell me what you need from me.” His reply came soft with a warm smile creeping onto his face.

“I-um... yes, uh, please. I need it so bad” Your words came out jumbled as you tugged the hem of your t-shirt.

Bucky took your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, tilting your head to look him in the eyes. He let his lips graze yours for a few seconds before he connected his lips with yours softly. It wasn’t a needy kiss, he was feeling you out and you had nothing left to do but just take what his soft mouth gave you.

He walked you back and pressed you up against the kitchen counter, his hands made their way down your sides to your thighs and he caressed them. He slowly removed his lips from yours to kiss down your chin, around and down your jaw line to your neck where he nipped at the flesh just below your ear, his tongue quickly slipping out and licking over the place he surely left a mark.

You let out a sigh at the feel of his contrasting hands. His right is soft and warm while his left is firm and cold, the feel of his teeth and tongue on your neck adding to the sensitivity of your skin and the heat pooling between your thighs. “Bucky, bedroom please. We can’t do it out here.” He let out a small laugh against your neck and gripped your thighs to pull them up around his waist. Your breath hitched in your throat as you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck. He walked to the elevator to take it up to his floor.

When he reached his room he hurriedly opened the door, moving you into just one of his arms, making your core rub against his covered cock. You let out a quiet moan and circled your hips against him; trying to gain any friction you could. He let out a deep hum and laid you on your back on his bed. He caught your lips in a hungry kiss and grabbed a fist of your hair to pull your head back. He licked up the column of your neck before grabbing the bottom of your shirt and pulling it over and off your body, discarding it to the floor somewhere.

Your cheeks flushed when he pulled his head back to stare at your breasts for a split second before he dipped his head and licked one of your nipples. You let out a sharp breath when he took your sensitive bud into his mouth and brought his cold, metal hand up to toy with your other nipple. He followed his first sharp suck with a light bite to your nipple, causing you to arch your back and let out a soft moan. You tangled your fingers into his dark hair and pulled ever so lightly, forcing a grunt from his mouth.

He flashed his eyes up to your face, a devilish smile dancing on his lips before he began kissing down your torso, down your abdomen to reach just above the top of your panties. He licked from the band of your soaked panties to your bellybutton before placing a wet kiss to your clothed clit. You bucked your hips against his mouth involuntarily. He pulled down your panties and tossed them beside your now exposed form.

You whimpered at the vulnerability of your state. Completely naked and soaked for the super soldier. He tugged your legs apart to take in the sight of your dripping cunt and smiled. “Look at you. Absolutely fucking soaked for me, sweetheart.” He placed small kisses to your inner thighs but never quite made it to where you needed him the most. “Bucky, please. Please just do something, anything.” You pleaded as you locked eyes with him. You could barely see the blue around his dark pupils that were blown with lust.

He brought two fingers up and spread your lips to lick up your slit to your bundle of nerves, drawing a wanton moan from your open mouth. He winked at you and lapped at your wet cunt. He gripped your legs so you couldn’t close them whilst he slid his tongue into your tight hole, thrusting it in and out before coming up to suck your clit into his mouth.

“Fuck, Bucky. Don’t stop” You choked out, gripping his sheets so hard your knuckles turned white. You could feel the coil in your stomach wrapping itself tighter and tighter. You were almost there. “Almost-almost, Bucky, please!” At that he let go of one of your thighs and slipped a finger into your tight core. You let out a breathy moan and ground your hips into his finger, needing more. He caught on and slipped a second finger in, thrusting and curling them until he found your g-spot; hitting it the first time and you couldn’t help but moan rather loudly, which prompted Bucky to find your panties with his other hand and shove them into your mouth.

You bit down on the fabric inside of your mouth as the thrusted his finger one last time and gave your clit a not so soft bite, tearing your orgasm from you. He watched your face intently, how your eyes shut and brows furrowed. He felt you clamp down around his fingers and go stiff in his hold as he finger fucked you right through your perfect, much needed orgasm.

Once he was sure you had ridden your high completely, he removed his fingers and sucked them clean while moving back up your body. You tore your panties from your mouth and grabbed the back of his neck to bring him down for a sloppy kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself. He pulled away and looked at you through hooded eyes, “Think you can cum one more time, princess? Wanna cum on my fat cock, huh?” He cooed and you could only moan out in response, grabbing the top of his sweats and pulling them down, urging Bucky to take them completely off.

He was sat on his knees in front of you when you finally got a look at his cock. It was long and thick and your mouth suddenly went dry at the sight of him. You wanted it in you so bad that you grabbed his shoulders and drug him down onto your body, locking your legs around his waist. He chuckled, “Needy little thing aren’t you? So desperate to take my cock”

You didn’t even have time to think about answering him before he slid his red, leaking tip through your wet folds before pressing into your core inch by inch. You clenched around his length as he slid into you and moaned. He was only a little ways in but he filled you so perfectly. The stretch was perfect, the way it stung and split you open felt amazing.

He pushed himself the rest of the way in, burying himself to the hilt he left out a moan. “Fuck your little pussy takes me so well, sweetheart. So wet and tight just for me.”

You laced your fingers through his hair as he dragged himself out slowly, leaving just his head inside and then pushing himself back in at an agonizing speed. “Buck, please. No teasing. Need to be fucked, please.” You whined out and pressed the heels of your feet into his ass, urging him to move. He buried his face into your neck and complied, beginning to snap his hips up into yours at a vigorous pace.

Moans fell from your mouth as he fucked into you. Your eyes were screwed shut, trying to meet his thrusts with your hips but ultimately failing. He grabbed one of your ankles and slipped your leg up and over his shoulder, angling himself perfectly to hit your sweet spot.

You cried out, his name falling from your lips as you came closer and closer to the edge, the coil from only moments ago wound tighter than before. Bucky was grunting and panting, “Won’t you play with your pretty clit, baby? Gonna cum soon, but can’t until you do again.” You immediately obeyed, sliding your hand between the two of you and rubbing tight and fast circles onto your throbbing clit.

Bucky’s pace became frantic and impossibly harder as your pussy fluttered around him. He thrusted up into you and hit your g-spot roughly, snapping the coil in your belly.

“Shit, Bucky! Oh fuckfuckfuck yes!” He fucked you through your second orgasm, hips stuttering and grunts of your name falling from his lips. One last hard thrust and he was stilling deep inside you, spilling his seed. You moaned at the feeling, clenching and milking him for all he was worth.

Both of you stayed in that position, Bucky’s limp body on top of yours. He picked his head up and placed a kiss to your cheek before pulling out slowly and getting off the bed. You watched him walk into his connected bathroom and heard running water. He returned with a wash cloth and cleaned you up, throwing it back into his bathroom and collapsing beside you.

“Feeling better now that I fucked your brains out, Doll?” He turned his head and smiled at you.

“Didn’t know old men like you knew how to do that kinda stuff to a woman.” You quipped and turned on your side, laying your head on his chest and smoothing your palm against his toned abdomen.

He rolled his eyes playfully and wrapped his arms around you. “Go to sleep, before I put something else in that mouth besides your panties.”

You hummed thoughtfully, but decided you were too tired to argue. “Okay, thank you. Goodnight.”

“Anytime, dollface. Goodnight”

#bucky barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #james barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

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thesurielships · 4 years ago

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inappropriate (poppy x casteel)

note: it is 4am. my brain is fried. i had to write this out of my system, so forgive any mistakes or discrepancies. and mostly, enjoy!

Masterlist | ao3

“Lady Teerman sure knows how to throw a party,” Tawny said, her eyes wide with wonder as they took in the huge ballroom.

Poppy was inclined to agree. Her aunt enjoyed few things in this life. Being fawned over was one of them, and she excelled at it.

Teerman Hall was known for its massive ballroom. Gilded chandeliers hung in the arched ceiling, casting an almost magical glow. The walls were minimally decorated so all the focus was on the dance floor in the middle of the room, where couples twirled and dipped to the ethereal music played by the orchestra.

She recognized Vickter among them, holding his violin like a weapon. From the grim smiles on his neighbors’ faces, she supposed it was indeed one.

“Miss Balfour,” a smoky voice called to her right. She knew without looking that Tawny was grinning like a cat.

“Lord Da’neer,” she curtsied deeply, offering her hand. “I did not think you would be in attendance.”

He bowed over her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles, in an entirely improper manner.

The dimple that appeared on his right cheek told her he had noticed her shiver.

“And miss seeing you in such a lovely dress?”

She flushed.

“You look absolutely stunning tonight, Poppy,” he murmured, low enough for only her to hear. Then, louder, “I don’t suppose you would care to dance with me?”

“And miss the chance to trample your insufferable toes?” She blinked at him innocently as she placed her hand in the crook of his arm. His muscles tightened reflexively under her touch.

“My toes certainly take offense to that, Miss. Being so harshly judged by the lady they most admire.”

An all too unladylike snort escaped her. “Ever the sweet talker, Lord Da’neer.”

His answering smile set her on fire. She stopped at the edge of the dance floor. “The music sounds the best in the drawing room,” she said quietly, her voice uncharacteristically breathy.

Casteel’s golden eyes widened. He seemed taken aback for one terrifying heartbeat before he finally cleared his throat. “Then we shall make use of it, shan’t we?”

***

This was a bad decision, Poppy realized as soon as she had closed the door and put her hand in his. He drew her close, one hand in hers and the other on her waist as they started swaying to the faint music.

“Much better than the ballroom,” he teased, that god forsaken dimple of his growing deeper.

She rested her head on his chest, hiding her blush. “I told you so.”

His chuckle reverberated in his chest.

She let out a wanton sigh, releasing his hand and twining her arms behind his neck. His fingers started drawing small circles on her waist, the thin fabric of her dress doing nothing to conceal the heat of his touch.

“This is so inappropriate,” she whispered into his chest.

His laugh was low and husky. “More inappropriate than sneaking into a gentleman’s club to gamble unsuspecting lords’ fortunes away from them?” he asked, referencing their latest night escapade.

The hand on her waist descended until it grazed her buttocks, the other sinking in her hair and tilting her neck.

Her eyes fluttered shut. “Yes.”

“More inappropriate than seducing innocent lords and luring them into a dark room to have your way with them?”

She snapped her head back. “I did not have my way with you.” Yet.

“But you did seduce me,” he breathed into her ear.

“That was not my intention,” she replied primly.

He paused, lifting his head so he could meet her gaze. “Do you want me to stop?”

“It was not my intention,” she repeated, enjoying the horror dawning in his eyes. “But if that was the resulting effect, I am not inclined to complain.”

“You devious, ruthless woman.”

“You flatter – ”

He swooped in like a hawk and suddenly he was kissing her, and it was everything she had imagined and more. For a first kiss, it was definitely not gentle. It was hungry and desperate and needy. Tongues were dancing and teeth were clashing, moans mingling with groans and hands wandering to uncharted places. More, more, more, chanted her soul as she slipped her fingers under his shirt and caressed the taut muscles.

He broke away with a strangled laugh. But she was already pulling him back, joining their lips. She lost track of time and space, drowning in Casteel’s taste and Casteel’s scent and Casteel’s touch –

“When did you carry me?” she asked, only realizing she was aloft when she felt his hands on the bare skin of her thighs.

“Sometime between when you started kissing me,” he pecked the protest out of her lips, “and when you accepted my proposal.”

Poppy froze. “What proposal?”

Casteel gently put her back on the ground and attempted to fix her rumpled dress and her ruined coiffure. The gesture was so heartbreakingly gentle that tears sprung to her eyes.

He retracted his hands. “Are you crying?”

She swallowed thickly. “What proposal, Casteel?”

He hesitated for one moment longer before he went down on one knee. Even though she had an inkling what was happening, she gasped.

“Penellaphe Balfour,” he took her hand in his, “I knew from the moment I saw you throwing a knife at an archery contest that I needed you in my life. Then I got to know you, and Gods,” he cleared his throat. His own eyes were growing misty. “Before I knew what was happening, I was head over heels for you.”

“Was?” She was only half joking.

He kissed her palm. “Am. I am yours, Poppy. Will you be mine?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You are not playing fair, my Lord.”

His smile was smug, a man satisfied. “By proposing to you while too lust-addled to function?”

“No,” she fought back a smile. “By calling me that.”

He stood, towering over her again, and brought their interlocked fingers to rest on his racing heart. “Poppy?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

He cupped her cheek with his other hand. “Will you marry me?”

She tightened her fingers around his.

“Yes.”

He smiled so wide both dimples showed. It was a glorious sight, one that she hoped she would be able to coax from him frequently.

“Casteel?”

He nudged her nose. “Hm?”

“If you tell anyone I cried, I will stab you in the heart.”

He nodded solemnly. “I shall take this secret to my grave.”

“Good. Now kiss me before I starve.”

I am only tagging @sleeping-and-books because she’s the only one i know who has read from blood and ash. i hope you liked it!

#from blood and ash #a kingdom of flesh and fire #poppy x casteel fanfiction #poppycas au #penellaphe balfour #casteel da'neer #regency au #fbaa #akofaf #mine #my writing

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hollowlittlegirl · 3 years ago

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11/28/21

Yesterday was rough, and this morning was even worse. i did eat normally. i ate what i knew i would like the taste of, i when i was hungry, and stopped when i was full. i ate about 2,000 calories. We were out, so we were busy, not sitting at home bored. i pretended i was doing ok, but inside i was dying. Everything i put in my mouth made me feel like a total failure. my ED was screaming at the top of its lungs. i ate a couple things that i know i can't eat again. Potato chips trigger a binge. i ate three or four and had to throw the bag away, but i did stop eating, and i did throw them away. i consider that a major victory. Strangely, french fries are fine. In the evening it got so cold. i had been warm all day, not freezing like i usually am(thank you food), but the cold weather made me miserable, so i got a hot coffee and he got a hot cocoa, and i poured some of his into mine for flavor. i never, ever eat sugar, and it hit me like a freight train. The rush made me feel like i was going to pass out, then 30 minutes later i crashed. my head was killing me, i was nauseous and shaky, and really emotional. i'd had a chocolate dipped frozen banana earlier and was fine with that, so it's straight sugar i have to stay away from. Ok, this morning. i woke up at 2am and decided to step on the scale. i was 4.5 pounds up and i had a major freakout. i woke up S and just ranted. i was so angry and so scared. i never wanted to eat again. i did eventually get back to sleep, and i woke up at 6:30(really sleeping in for me) and i'm up about 2 pounds from yesterday. Note to self, don't weigh before 4am. i weigh lots more. Still, those 2 pounds are making me feel awful. i don't want to eat, and i really want to exercise. i had an energy drink just now. i don't know why, i usually use them for fuel to exercise. i'm just not sure if i'm going to be able to eat, and i may need the energy. Today is going to be really, really hard, and i don't know if i'm strong enough to fight this today. i'm always totally honest on this page, so i'll tell you the truth right now. i'm not sure i want to fight this. my ED may be a difficult thing to live with, but it makes me feel like i'm in control, and yesterday i felt nothing of the sort. i don't want to feel like that for one more minute. i'm not stupid, i know it's really bad for my health, but part of me doesn't even care. What's wrong in my brain that makes me feel like that? Hopefully i can find a therapist who will help me find the answer to that.

#anatumblr #disordered eating tw #tw ed mention #anarex1c #tw ed related #tw ed talk #ed behaviors #ed behavior tw #eating disorder thoughts #ana tumblr

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sanguinesinners · 4 years ago

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|| urgh even though I hate to say it, and I don’t feel like I got much out as I wanted but its 4am and I have to go bed - my brain is fried. I’ll be on my PC tomorrow so I’ll catch you all then. Night lovelies!

#{out of cigarettes; ooc}#Offline #Night

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dracosathenaeum · 4 years ago

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wait geese lay eggs what

ikr!! like do all birds lay eggs? swans? puffins? tbf that's what probably makes a bird a bird right; whether or not they lay eggs. my brain is fried omg

ITS 4AM IM GOING TO BED HONK HONK

#TAMMY 🦆#even when youre not on discord you manage to distract me from going to bed lmao

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happyandticklish · 2 years ago

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HEADCANNON but it's 4am so I'm probably incoherent

SO LIKE Marleys power is to see into the past 👀 (this hc is going based off the first damien fic you posted which I ADORE) SO consider. He views damiens past and sees that one specific memory with that Angela girl and its QUITE obvious that damien was using his power there. And just. He knows.

My brain is so fried I'm sorry if that don't make sense 😭

OMG dude that's genius I swear you have a never-ending stream of headcannons and I am so here for it

And it's weird because he's not sure if he should approach Damien on it or not, because it was his past, but like. At the same time. So he just kind of watches for a bit. He starts sneaking in more pokes here and there and Damien always reacts with these deer-in-headlights looks and awkwardly excuses himself just as Marley can feel his power start to kick in. And eventually before he can leave Marley just casually comments, "I know. It's cool, if you do, but, I know. It felt weird keeping it from you" and Damien goes redder than he's ever seen him and all but runs from the room.

#tickling #asks #answered ask #tbs discussions #also yes you do make sense lol no worries there

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trashy-greyjoy · 7 years ago

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syd tell us the story of u and pizza girl again

alright children gather round.

one day, long ago, my awkward ass went to dominos - with my fucking grandfather might i add - looking a hot damn mess in a giant cat sweatshirt. and i was told to order for everyone so I'm chilling out at the counter when an adorable goddess of a woman comes to the register. and i honest to god could not tell you a single word i said for the next ten minutes because my brain fried itself and i when ton awkward autopilot.

but they were short staffed so it took forever to get the food, but i stayed up there talking to her, and she was so sweet and i guess she found my social ineptitude charming or something because she wrote her number on one of the napkins and put it on top of the pizza boxes as we went to leave.

anyway, we texted like barely over the next week and a half, just a little here and there because it was the first week of classes and we were both busy af. and since I'm but more charming over text message, she asked me out to GET FUCKING PIZZA. are you seeing why we call her pizza girl??

anyway, we went to this place where you like make your own pizza and you pick all the toppings and stuff and it was really cute and my clumsy self got fucking pizza sauce on my shirt and the conversation was awkward because we’re both sucky at being humans and honestly it was a typical awkward first date i guess but we still had fun.

and then she was walking me to the bus stop because i live off campus and I'm a loser without a car and on the way there she grabbed my hand and i think my heart deadass exploded because i don't know if you guys fully grasp how awkward i am and how horrible i am at dates and human interaction, but even this sad awkward first date of embarrassment was the best id ever suffered through and i for real was just shook. but i was also very happy because a cute girl was holding my hand.

and she sat at the bus stop with me for a few minutes and when the bus pulled up we got all flustered again, but then she kissed me and YALL LET ME TELL YOU. THIS ADORABLE LITTLE ANGEL OF A PERSON TASTED LIKE FUCKING PIZZA SAUCE AND MUSHROOMS AND IT WASNT LIKE WE MADE OUT IN FRONT OF THE BUS BUT HOT DAMN IT WAS GREAT.

anyway, i got home and let her know i made it and then she asked me out or ice cream in october - and we live in fucking oregon so october is like 24/7 cold rain. but i went anyway because a.) ya girl rarely gets a date so its not like i was gonna say no and b.) she's really cute and i liked her a lot.

so i guess from then on we ate pizza and hung out at coffee shops. and one day i was having a particularly shitty time (which i believe, can you imagine, was because of antis sending me hate or some tumblr related shit) so this muffin girl got me voodoo doughnuts and brought them to me on campus before class because she is a blessing.

and we watched the x-files together and she’s the scully to my crazy ass mulder and we laugh about my ex’s small dick together and my dog loves her more than me and she puts up with my mood swings and my crazy 4am texts about aliens but most importantly she gets me discount dominos pizza

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aeron-volkova · 8 years ago

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Name: Aeron Volkova.

Race: Midlander Hyur.

Sex: Male.

Personality Type (laid back, militant, high strung, etc.): By some aspects Aeron is what he presents himself to be which is that type of individual you find surrounded by friends, a charming smile set upon their lips and their very words bring some form of amusement to others. So from the start when dealing with Aeron you’re dealing with that sociable person alongside the fact he’s not too shy when it comes to prying in the past of people he has just met much to the dismay of some. Not that it bothers Aeron as he doesn’t tend often bother with feeling bad if someone dislikes him. He’s also not one to judge people for their beliefs as long they’re not considered too crazy, everyone believes in something and it is simply isn't anyone's place to judge another for that. Obviously there is more to Aeron, but some things are best discovered first hand.

What does your character look like?: Aeron by no means can be considered short for a Midlander but he doesn’t come off as being too tall either and with a clear athletic physique, one of the more peculiar trademarks that makes up his appearance is a pair of dark amethyst irises which are met with a messy condition of near black hair. All of this finds itself often paired with expensive fabrics that build up his attire albeit with plenty of bronzed skin exposed depending on the mood, weather... He also tends to wear various silver, gold bangles around his wrists and ankles only with direct compliments of earrings and a necklace. Of course he tends to wear something more ‘simple’ when in the midst of scenarios that can be called adventurous and might see some wounds inflicted.

Favorite Hobby:

Aeron can often be seen sat behind any harpsichord he can get his hands on, be it within an established bar or an actual residence, room of an associate and they happen to possess one.

Beyond playing the musical instrument he’d like people to believe that the consumption of wine is a sincere hobby.

Motto they live by: “Motto? Ah... If I can’t get back up after being knocked down, I might as well stay down and never get up again for I should not stand against the strong. But I’ll always get back up.”

Favorite type of Environment: Any place that’s not shrouded in cold, as one born in the depths of Thanalan, Aeron prefers warmer environments. That said he also prefers having some form of noise production around as a never ending silence would be like torture to him.

Friends: Friends. Plenty of those! But true friends are not so plentiful.

Who they Admire: When it comes to admiring certain people, he only finds himself viewing certain people in such a light if they truly believe and fight for their cause without faltering in it.

What do they hope to do 10 years from now: Ten years is a long way away, lets just say Aeron is not one to plan so far ahead by all means. But he hopes to be alive and still succeeding in what he presently does.

Are they single? If not, who is their spouse/partner/life mate?: Is Aeron single? That’d be leaning towards a negative, yet it’s a complicated more so than its not.

What do they look for in friends?: In terms of what one looks for in /friends/ Aeron tends to find a form of friendship with people who are of like mind to him and don’t come off as more brawn over brain. That said as long the time Aeron has spent with a certain person, no matter how different they are of him was considered ‘enjoyable’ they stand a chance to be a friend of Aeron. A true friend though? Who knows.

If they walked into a bar and saw a talking slug, what would their reaction be?: A talking slug?! Aeron would simply walk right out because no slug belongs in an establishment where wine and other alcoholic beverages are to be consumed for ones pleasure and amusement!

OOC:

Usual Playtime: Timezone wise: GMT+1 / CEST, etc etc... During the week my activity tends to be in a state of constant presence post-6PM all the way up to the early hours of 1-2AM, perhaps at times longer if the stars are in our favor. Start of weekends (Fri night -> Sunday night) I can be found as early as 3-4PM all the way up to 3-4AM, unless plans were made in real life and so forth.

Server: Balmung.

FC/Guild: The Mythril Blades.

Looking for (friends, ships, hate ships, shady connections, etc.): Random interactions with everyone. Merchants, nobles and just about any sort of character-type. People who consider themselves steadfast in adhering to lore, consider themselves an RP-focused individual.

Tl;dr. Got dem RP’s? I’ll take it!

#introduction #ffxiv #relevant2aeron

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