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bi-writes · 9 months ago

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ok but soulmate au with ghost but it's the fucking opposite of rainbows and sunshine. (18+)

you share his trauma. his stress. his anxiety. you do not know who he is, and yet you know the pain of a thousand punches because it's the only feeling he has ever given you. you know the grueling ache of abandonment and the terrible neglect of abuse and the disgusting amalgamation of all your worst nightmares before you even turn 20. everything that he gives you feels aggressive, like it burns, and he only ever gives you reprieve for so long until you just feel it all over again.

it makes you tired. it makes you sick. at first, as a girl, all you wanted to do was comfort him. you wanted to know who he was so you could kiss the cigarette burns that you feel and soak up the blood you know he bleeds.

but as you age, you begin to hate him. you hate him because he does this to you, he hurts you, doesn't he know that he's hurting you? doesn't he know that everything he feels, you feel tenfold, doesn't he know that the terror and the horror of everything he witnesses weighs down your chest, makes you feel like you're drowning over and over and over again?

for a few years into your adulthood, everything is quiet. you feel little except the ache in his back he never tends to, the creak of his knee joints that he refuses to stretch out. you wish you knew him so you could scold him for it, but you curse at a ghost. sometimes you think about doing something to get back at him--you think about carving a FUCK YOU into your arm, about throwing yourself in front of a bus just so he can fucking understand that his entire life is one fucked-up cycle of pain and misery and horror, but you can't bring yourself to do it.

you can't hurt him. you just can't.

and then, the real pain begins. it brings you to your knees, this pain. you scream, you wail, because it feels like you're being carved from the inside-out. your face burns. your chest heaves. you feel like your ribs are breaking, you can't breathe, you claw at the invisible wounds that your soulmate must be wearing, and you beg him to stop, you beg him to let me go--just fucking die already--please, please, please--

those weeks haunt you. the torture he endures, it is branded to you. you wear no scars, and you never lost any blood, but the phantom flesh that you know is gone follows you in your sleep and never shuts up. it talks, it snarls, it eats at your insides. even when he heals, you are never the same. you wake up from nightmares that you know you share with him. you look over your shoulder for the predators you know he has encountered, and you cry yourself to sleep over the loss of something that you can't even decipher because you have no idea who he is or what he buried to feel this way inside.

he's sick. he's twisted. he's a walking corpse, he has no redeemable qualities, he is selfish and mean and cruel, and you hate him, and if it wasn't for the pain that you would feel, the first thing you would do when you saw him is drive something right through his heart to finally stop the undying infection he spreads to everything that he touches.

you know it is him when you finally meet him. you would know him anywhere; you’d know him just by the scars alone who he is because you remember what it felt like when he got them. when you eye the sleeve of tattoos along his left arm--the fucked, shitty, sunburnt art that made it impossible for you to finish your university exams. the faded, grey circles that line the other, ones you recognize being from the burning cigarettes that you would smell when you closed your eyes. and when he removes his mask briefly, you recognize the scar that cuts above his lip and strikes through his eye--that one left you reeling on the bathroom floor particularly loudly. you thought he might be blind if it wasn't for seeing the darkness of both of his eyes.

you start to cry. you start to cry because as soon as he realizes who you are, as soon as you see that flicker of knowing flash across his eyes, all of the hatred and the anger and the poison that plagued you for all this time vanishes. everything you fought so hard to feel, all the misery you wanted to bestow upon him for making your life a living hell, it's gone.

because the universe is cruel, the universe has done what it has done, and it has made this singular person just for you, and against everything you believe, you know that you love him, and you hate yourself for it, and you hate the universe, too.

you have endured. but maybe you endured so he didn't have to. maybe you endured so that he could have this, the feeling that he feels right now, that feeling of sudden relief.

he slides a large hand over his chest, flinching slightly. he blinks, understanding suddenly that he's feeling your joy, your elation. when you shuffle your way over to him, breaching the conversation the men around him are having, you ignore their confused stares as you fling yourself into his chest.

ghost forces you against him, trapping you to him. he practically chokes, tangling a gloved hand into your hair, and you sob into the warm skin of his neck as he hoists you into his arms, into his lap. you don't pay attention to the curious voices around you, you just bury yourself into him and cry. his body is the evidence of all that has happened to him, and you aren't angry anymore because you're relieved.

he's real. he's alive. he's here. he's okay.

when you pull back to look up at him, you blink away the tears that are falling fast down your face. he stares down equally as intensely, drinking in the sight of those big, wet eyes. when he smooths a big hand down your face, he grumbles when he realizes what you are, how you know him.

he never realized this was what he and his soulmate shared. you in your life had never felt pain like he had--he had no idea what he was doing to you. he had no idea what you were surviving at the same time.

he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours, and your lips tremble as you cup his cheeks and hold him close.

it feels wrong to feel this kind of comfort, but he does anyways. he thinks, maybe, that perhaps the only reason he survived was because of you.

because there was someone else, far away, that loved him enough to keep him breathing. even when he thought it was over.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon thoughts

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torpublishinggroup · 10 months ago

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Celebrate Pride with Tor Publishing Group!

Rakesfall by @adamantine

They met as children in the middle of the Sri Lankan civil war. Later, in a demon-haunted wood, an act of violence linked them and propelled their souls on a journey through the ages. As they reincarnate ever deeper into the future, a truth emerges: Some stories take more than one lifetime to tell.

Running Close to the Wind by @ariaste

In this queer pirate fantasy, Avra Helvaçi has accidentally stolen the single most expensive secret in the world. To avoid capture, he flees to the open sea, where only his on-again, off-again ex aka pirate Captain Teveri az-Ḥaffār can help him survive, profit, and become a legend.

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Something evil is buried deep in the desert. It wants your body and wears your skin. Welcome to Camp Resolution, a queer conversion center where everyone leaves a different person. In 1995, seven queer teens were abandoned here by their parents, but survived. Sixteen years later, they’re scarred and broken, but back to face an evil that threatens the world.

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In this alternate history where barkcloth airships soar and former colonies claim freedom from imperialist tyrants, the identity of the island of Everfair still wavers. Victorious in the wake of the Great War, a new threat looms. Can Everfair continue to serve as a symbol of hope for anticolonial movements around the world, or will it fall to forces within and without?

Can’t Spell Treason Without Tea by @rebeccathornewrites

Can one of the Queen’s private guard and the most powerful mage in existence leave their lives behind to settle down in their new bookshop that serves tea? This cozy fantasy is steeped in sapphic romance and nestled on the edge of dragon country.

The Fragile Threads of Power by V. E. Schwab

Once there were four worlds, nestled like pages in a book, each pulsing with fantastical power and connected by a single city: London. After a desperate attempt to prevent corruption and ruin in the four Londons, there are only three. Now the worlds are going to collide anew—brought to a dangerous precipice by the discoveries of three remarkable magicians.

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This is a story about misplaced faith, complicated love, so much self-loathing, and yeah—giant robots. Plugged into his AI god when its apocalyptic corruption renders him unfortunately immortal, sad gay disaster Sunai takes a die-again-or-die-trying approach to things. Unending life’s tough when intimacy is somehow scarier even than either of the warring police states set on turning you into a weapon or the rogue undead mecha-fragment of your old god that wants to eat you.

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The Bell in the Fog by Lev AC Rosen

A dazzling historical mystery that dives into the shadowy, closeted world of the Navy, emerging in the gay bars of the city. It’s a whirlpool of missing people, violent strangers, and scandalous photos in 1952 San Francisco.

Now available in paperback!

Celebrate Pride with more titles from Tor Publishing Group here!

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myderis · 1 month ago

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on second thought ꒱ mydei 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.4k

The crowned prince of Kremnos 'MYDEIMOS' and also the warrior of Okhema 'Mydei’, or ‘Dried pomegranate’ as you like to call him is an undying pain in the ass.

“Do you ever think before you do anything, Princess?” he asks mockingly, once again wielding your title like a weapon while you’re draped over his shoulder as if you are the lightest thing in the world, completely at his mercy as he walks away from the remains of dead Titankins. To him, this is another mindless warm-up as he saves you from trouble almost daily. “Oh, I am so wholeheartedly sorry… Apparently, I can’t go for a walk without my hero,” you retort, that sweet voice dripped with sarcasm and arrogance but he only smirks, further fueling your annoyance.

When you both arrive at the Okhema bathhouse, you’re greeted by Aglaea, Tribbie, and Phainon. The three of them stop dead in their tracks, surprise flashing across their faces as they take in the sight of you still perched indignantly over Mydei’s shoulder. Normally, you and he can’t stand to be in the same room together, or at least that’s the lie you both cling to. Despite your constant bickering, they’ve noticed the threads that bind you. Quite literally, in Aglaea’s case. Though blind, she can sense the golden strings connecting your hearts and just then Tribbie grins.

“You two should marry already!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together when Phainon chuckles in agreement. “She’s not wrong. Someone needs to keep him grounded,”

“What!? Us? Married?” you stammer, turning your head just enough to glare at the divine heroes, still hanging awkwardly over Mydei’s shoulder. Your cheeks burn as your heart pounds uncomfortably in your chest. Mydei, as usual, handles the situation with his signature exasperation and denial. “Don’t be absurd, Deliverer. Even a god driven mad wouldn’t suggest something so ridiculous,”

Lady Aglae clears her throat, ushering Tribbie and Phainon away to attend to other matters, leaving the two of you alone with the silence that makes you question your life choices. You can feel Mydei’s grip tighten before, without any warning, unceremoniously dumps you into the steaming bath. Letting out a scream as water splashes everywhere. Hair soaked, you feel it cling to your face, obstructing your view until his fingers brush it aside.

For a moment, his fiery and intense gaze softens and you swear you can see your reflection in his eyes as both of your faces lean closer and closer, your chest tightens, and your breath hitches, until … “On second thought,” he murmurs leaning back into the water with that same smirk, “I wouldn’t mind spending all my life with you.”

Your heart skips a beat, and for once, you're at a loss for words.

#❝ MEMENTO MORI !#❝ SFW !#❝ MYDEI'S MEMENTO !#honkai star rail x reader #mydei x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail fluff #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr fluff #mydei x you #mydei fluff #hsr mydei #honkai star rail #hsr #amphoreus #mydeimos #mydeimos x reader #hsr amphoreus

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yanderenightmare · 9 months ago

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TW: noncon, yandere, omegaverse, subjugation, some type of sexism, angsty, also a little fluffy?

fem reader

Discussions about superiority and inferiority between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas have become more popular lately. It’s always been many people’s opinion that the weak should cater to those stronger than them—but a debate with that as its topic is unsavory. Unfortunately, they’ve found new ways to phrase it.

A resonating “Unmated Omegas are a danger to themselves!” garners much more sympathy…

And with the rise of people talking about it in the media, it was only natural to move the conversation into school as well.

You keep your head bowed in class as the chill runs down your spine. You feel the glare of thirty fellow students—the points of their teeth, too, and how they snicker under their breath. It’s always been rather scary being an omega, but you can’t say you’ve ever felt quite so alone.

The teacher’s an alpha, so why should he care how what he says impacts you? He’s preaching to the choir, and you’ve never had the right to sing. The three other Omegas in your class have all chosen to stay home. They probably have the right idea—wait it out until it all blows over.

But you don’t know when that might be… You don’t know if that will be.

Society is on the precipice of critical change—new politics, new laws, new systems, new rights that separate you from them. You wallow in fear of the outcome, lying awake at night and scrolling through the news under the safety of your duvet. The statements seem endless. You wonder, why are all politicians Alphas?

You don’t want any of the things they’re suggesting—mating homes to help you find the perfect Alpha to bond with, systematic pairings done from birth, auctions. Is no one going to suggest they put shock collars on all Alphas and Betas to keep them in check? They’re the ones who need to—

“Your scent is distracting the whole class—don’t you feel ashamed?”

It’s too easy for him to have you bent over the desk, your wrist on your back in his big fist as he wraps his tie around them. He and his goons stand around, all smiles—watching—enjoying it. It’s as if they’ve planned the whole thing, the way two of them peel away from the crowd to grab each their pick of your feet. Parting them, they use your own shoelaces to tie them to the desk legs.

The ringleader laughs. There’s an awful smell coming off him in waves—it makes you quiver. He flips your skirt up and whistles at the sight, showing everyone your ass and cotton undies. The bulge he presses against you is enough to make your tears spill despite how hard you’d fought to keep them at bay, knowing it only arouses them further.

“Aww, don’t cry, little bitch. You should be happy,” he coos, leaning over your trapped form to whisper right at your ear. “Don’t you know? You’ll never feel happier than you will bouncing on my big Alpha dick. It’s all your little Omega cunt dreams about, isn’t it?” He snickers, fiddling with his belt buckle—you flinch at every sharp clink as he jostles the metal. “Well, salvation is here—”

“Keep it to yourself.” Another voice breaks through the sounds of hollers and cheers.

Your eyes open to see him. You despise how your heart jumps in relief.

“Oi, you—” the guy at your back challenges, stepping away from you and toward the interruption.

“Yeah, me,” he states blankly, jaded. He eyes the rest of the guys with disinterest—five betas, zero threat—before telling them, “All of you. Scram.”

They all take a step to walk out as if his voice alone had compelled them, but then the previous guy interjects, making them stop in their tracks again. “Tch—you know what they’re saying. All unmated Omegas are free game, and I won this one. So back off.”

It was like watching a match of tug-of-war.

“Heh,” the intruder laughs. “That rule only counts for Alphas.”

You spot your aggressor's fists curl—there’s a growl rumbling in the back of his throat. “I am an Alpha, asshole.”

“Really?” he feigns, sizing him up with a cocky tilt of his head. “Couldn’t tell.” He doesn’t seem fazed in light of the aggression—actually, it seems to amuse him if anything. “To me, you smell no different from all these other Beta losers.”

He takes a casual step forward, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face—baring canines with grace.

“But if you wanna prove it, I’m ready when you are.”

It’s quiet after the declaration. The betas are unsure who’s side to pick, none of them eager to get caught in the middle. It becomes a competition purely between the two Alphas.

Without backup, your aggressor backs down and leaves.

“Thought so,” your savior jeers, showing the crowd out, closing and locking the door behind them.

It’s quiet after they’ve left.

You hide your face. Listening to his footsteps approach—he sighs when taking the place of the former guy. He doesn’t touch you, though.

“Y’know…” he starts. “That guy might be trash, but he isn’t wrong…” He picks up your skirt and drapes it back in place. “None of this would ever happen if you weren’t unmated.”

You speak through grit teeth. “Untie me.”

He chuckles familiarly at that, clicking his tongue at you. “What? Aren’t you gonna say please?” But he does what you say anyway. Squatting down, he starts with your ankles.

The scent of your fear still lingers in the air despite your tough act. You’ve always been so steadfast, ever since you were kids, even when it does you no good. He frees your feet—one, then the other, slowly—he even reties your laces into pretty bows before he’s done.

He remembers it being so obvious. The sun rose in the morning and the moon at night, and you were supposed to be an Alpha while he a Beta at best. You promised you’d be by his side to keep him safe forever, and he wanted nothing more.

But then puberty hit, and nothing was as you’d imagined.

He stands and unknots the tie keeping your wrists restrained.

You immediately push him off—already storming away.

“Do I get no thank you, no nothing? Always so stubborn—” He grabs your arm.

You spin around, an unnatural snarl on your face. “Let go!”

You’d have been a terrifying Alpha. But as fate has it, you’re not. And you shouldn’t act like it. It only lands you in trouble.

But he doesn’t say that.

“You been watchin’ the news?” he says instead, ignoring your cry and keeping a firm grip on your arm. “Seems like auctions are winning the voters. You know what that means?”

He feels you flinch, followed by a quiver. He can tell. No matter how good you are at hiding it. He can see—the way you’re fraying at the edges, barely holding it together. Always acting so strong. He can’t tell whether you enjoy torturing yourself or if you’re just that good at convincing yourself you’re fine.

“Pretty soon, new authorities are gonna come storming in here, roundin’ up every sorry unmated Omega they find, and put ‘em all on a farm where pompous Alphas can have their pick of the litter.”

He can never tell what you’re thinking, but he knows he doesn’t need to tell you any of this. You’re not stupid, you never have been. He knows you already know. But…

“You should decide now while it’s still your choice.”

You must be terrified. He understands. But truly… it’s obvious what you have to do, isn’t it?

“It’s not like you have many options.”

It’s obvious. It always has been.

You don’t meet his eyes. You haven’t for a long while. Actually, you haven't since both of you got your test results. He understands this wasn’t what you had in mind, but you can’t afford to mope about it forever—

“How am I supposed to choose any Alpha when you’re all such assholes…”

Your mutter stunts him. It wasn’t what he expected. Or, the words were more or less exactly something he’d expect from you, but that voice—quiet and soft, dangling on the brink of sweet. If you’d said anything else, he’d have taken it as a confession.

“Can't argue with that,” he ends up chuckling again.

You hate how easy this is for him. He would cry at every turn when you were kids. It’s unfair.

“But you can’t keep doing this, either,” he states. His voice is soft, paired with that ugly authority they all have when talking to you—talking down to you. “Just look where it gets you—scared and exhausted because of it. At least have the brains to stay home.” He says it as if it’s a joke, but you both know it isn’t. His chuckles are light—far from fullhearted.

He bends down, trying to find your eyes. He still holds onto your arm, knowing you’d sooner stomp away than listen to him. His other hand brushes your cheek gently, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You hear the call from the rafters—it’s not about what you want anymore. It’s about what you need.”

That’s what they say, isn’t it? What you need. You want to slap him. Scratch him with claws, bite his throat out—make him choke on his own words. Need? What you need is for them all to fuck off.

You mean to say it with the same sentiment, but something hard and rough in your throat makes all your words come out wobbly. “Mate an Alpha to stay safe from other Alphas. What a joke.”

You bow your head further. The tears return. They burn as they trail down the sore streaks from before.

He’s never seen you like this. He won’t lie, it makes his pants tight—feeling the urge to suck your cheeks, hold you close and comfort you. But knowing you right, you’d probably never let him. Your face would probably scrunch up in disgust, punch his gut, knee his groin, then turn on your heel and leave him on the floor wheezing.

You really would have made the most terrifying Alpha.

“The world isn’t fair,” he agrees. “But you get nowhere cryin’ about it—do it my way, and you’ll never—”

“Have any freedom,” you cut him off with a sniffle.

It’s about the most adorable thing he’s seen in his life.

He gets why you don’t like Alphas—they’re all gross. He makes himself sick sometimes. He can’t believe he’s getting off on watching you have a mental breakdown. There’s something seriously wrong with his side of the species. His throat’s tight, mouth watery with the urge to reap your vulnerability.

Suppressing it only makes his inner beast furious. Some of that aggression comes out in his next words.

“I’m sorry, but the world doesn’t give a shit about your freedom.”

The grip around your arm tightens, and you look up in shock—watching his narrowed eyes through your watery ones.

“What you need is safety—now more than ever. Or do you like being preyed on by every Alpha around the corner?”

Your bottom lip trembles at the reality of it—a little while ago, you were almost—

“One of these days, I'm not gonna be here in time, and you’ll be a slave to some fucking—”

He huffs and hangs his head. His hand loosens up—it trembles where he holds you in place.

“In all honesty, I think I’m more scared than you,” he whispers under his breath. “I think I might kill—”

He stops himself again. You don’t know if it’s in an effort not to frighten you or himself.

“Speak about needs…” he begins anew, now softer. “I need to know you’re safe. I need to—” He looks up. His eyes are back to being round. “I need you more than you need me, probably.”

There’s a desperation on his face. It almost looks like he’s on the verge of tears himself.

“So… please?” he begs. “Will you keep me safe like you promised and stay by my side?”

Your tears dry and prickle. Looking into his eyes now, you see the same boy you knew back in your childhood—that one who’d chase you all over even when you’d call him a sniveling crybaby. You realize, Alpha or not, he hadn’t changed all that much at all.

“It’s not like you need my permission,” you end up saying.

You’ve always been so hard-headed. He has to smile. “No, but I want it.”

You nibble your lip. You can’t believe you’re at the mercy of this big dumb hunk of… you don’t have the words to describe him. He wasn’t exactly a crybaby anymore.

“Okay. You win.”

His eyes widen as you bear your neck with a stretch. Head high and shoulders slack.

You swallow thickly. “Get it over with.”

He shudders at the sight. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but now it almost seemed too soon.

“We should be supervised by a professional—you know how wrong things can go—”

“Hurry up before I change my mind.” Your eyes remain shut, and your lips pursed.

His tongue grows thick in his mouth at your bark. A sudden stroke of performance anxiety makes his palms sweaty, hands heavy and shaking. But then the sight of your soft neck has his mood shift, becoming drowsy.

He has no control over the growl that begins rumbling from his gut.

But he doesn’t apologize for it either.

He bends forward—breaths on your chest before he licks your throat. You can’t help but whimper at the warmth. He watches you through hooded eyes—your usually angry face is now all cute, riddled with anxiety you try hiding paired with the grim anticipation of pain.

“Shh,” he soothes, kissing the spot softly. He sways you against him, then lifts you up on the desk for you to sit. Grazing your neck with teeth when feeling your hands tangle two fistfuls of his shirt. He expects you to push him away, but you don’t—you tug him closer instead as if silently telling him to hurry up.

But he doesn’t want to rush, doesn’t want to lose himself—that’s how accidents happen. So he sticks to sucking gently, only tiny nibbles that leave your skin hot and lightly bruised in their wake.

You give a moan once he finds the spot, and he growls in restraint upon the pretty sound—feeling you relax despite being threatened with his teeth right at your artery. He almost humps your leg in return, feeling the boil of blood pump him hot and heavy in his pants—breaths turning equally hot and heavy, each one laced with rust.

Drool coated your neck in a cool sheen, soothing the marks made beneath it, while his lips and fangs aroused pleasure in the spot that now ached for the sting of his bite.

“Please,” slipped from your mouth while tugging him closer.

His eyes, completely drunk on the pretty prayer, had only a slim rim of color left surrounding the hungering bottomless pits, blown full and black with opium.

No one could come and take you away from him now. Not with his print so pretty on your neck. You were his—just as you were always supposed to be.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Natsuo, Amajiki, Mirio ♡ JJK – Yuji, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ DS – Tanjiro, Zenitsu

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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retrosabers · 7 days ago

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𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

*relationship & smut hcs written with fem!reader in mind*

contains: a lot of angst (mentions of insecurity, past trauma), some relationship fluff, 18+ SMUT CONTENT BELOW THE CUT. MINORS DNI (praise kink, dry humping, fem receiving oral, a tinge of dirty talk)

word count: 2.2k

a/n: if you had a dollar for everytime i apologized for not posting, boy would you be rich LMAO

this writer’s block is no bueno. but, i can sense my bucky era coming back full throttle and i think he might be the cure. enjoy these unnecessarily angsty hcs in the meantime ;) and feel free to share any of your own!

GENERAL/PERSONALITY:

is very fond of the outdoors. he’s not a “take a hike and run a mile” kind of guy, but he gets genuine enjoyment and relaxation from sitting on a park bench and breathing in the fresh air and soaking in his surroundings. one afternoon you surprised him with a trip to a botanical garden on the outskirts of the city and he absolutely loved it. you don’t think you’ve ever seen bucky more at peace than when he was wandering amongst the greenery without an ounce of tension in his body.

can’t stand clutter. once he warms up to acquiring more belongings, everything has its designated place and it needs to stay that way. call it a mild case of ocd, or an undying need to control the ins and outs of his day to day life, but bucky can’t even think about shutting down for the night if his apartment is a mess. any files out on the table get tucked away in a well organized filing cabinet, dishes are dried and placed in the cupboard, laundry is either in the hamper or folded neatly in its respective drawer. he keeps everything as neat and pristine and possible for the sake of his sanity.

one of the only useful pieces of advice he retained from therapy was journaling. bucky still struggles a bit with verbalizing his feelings, so he often just writes them all down in lieu of talking it out. after he realizes just how much it works, he starts to journal about his days in detail. doesn’t matter if he’s feeling calm, or anxious, or how mundane the itinerary is, he makes sure to document it. partly because of the relief it brings, and just in case something happens to his memory again.

secret candle enthusiast, except it’s just one specific scent. you bought it for him as a housewarming present and he was absolutely certain that it was going to smell atrocious. what could possibly be so great about amber vanilla musk. turns out it’s the most perfect gift you ever could’ve given, so much so that he snuck over to bath and body works the next day to buy another one. the aroma fits him in a way that’s indescribable, plus it makes his apartment feel more like somewhere he wants to be rather than has to. it’s become a running gag to gift him one for every special occasion, and he always accepts it with a small, appreciative smirk.

this man is a real life disney princess. animals follow him EVERYWHERE and he’s got no clue as to why. you say it’s because they can sense at his core that he’s kind and gentle, and he always waves it off with a frown and a grumble (and a blush he desperately tries to hide). he feeds all the strays on his block, and eventually caves and brings one of them home. when you went to his place and found a tiny white kitten sitting on the counter, you thought you were hallucinating. then bucky walked in and gave a little scratch between her ears and it all pieced together.

“i knew it,” you mutter knowingly, eyes fixated on the way she preens from his touch. “you’re just a big ol’ softie.” bucky doesn’t offer any sort of rejection or rebuttal, only a halfway pointed stare before simply scooping the little animal into his arms and showing her off to you like she was a rare jewel.

he is very opposed to listening to current music, and the only way you can even remotely convince him to give things a try is if they’re on vinyl. it’s a happy medium, because even though the tunes may be vastly different than back in the 40s, he still has the familiar comfort of a record player. it’s still an uphill battle to get him to listen to anything made after 1950, but persuasion comes a bit easier when you pull out a record from your personal collection.

*psst. i have a fic about this you can kinda read about this here*

introducing him to doordash was a mistake because this man racks up an insane charge on his credit card with takeout. he hates the unnecessary socialization aspect of ordering at a restaurant so you best believe those delivery apps are his best friend.

loves to bitch and complain about maintaining his bike when in reality he enjoys it far more than he’d ever care to admit. he likes being able to fix something; to put his hands to good use and they actually have a positive impact instead of negative. offers to help any of the old timers at the va with their bikes if they have any trouble.

you know how some people get seasonal depression during the winter months from the bleak weather? bucky has that times a million, because the bone chilling cold never fails to trigger his ptsd, and send him right back into reliving his hydra days of being frozen against his will. when you catch wind of it, you make it a note to try and spend as much time with him as you can; make sure he’s not alone or that he at least has something else to occupy his mind other than his traumatic memories as the winter soldier.

IN A RELATIONSHIP:

old fashioned in the best way possible. while he strongly agrees with most of the 21st century’s stance on gender equality, he’ll never stop believing it’s a man’s job to take care of his woman. don’t get it twisted, he never tries to stifle your independence; it’s one of the many things he loves about you. but bucky can’t help but be a little “old-timey”; whether that be paying for your meals, or encouraging you to take a day off to relax while he’s working. it’s one of the only things he’s happy to have hardwired in his brain.

not entirely fond of pda but will ALWAYS have a hand on you when you’re out and about. usually a protective arm slung over your shoulder or a hand pressed into the small of your back. something that keeps you close to him for safety reasons, and also to let everyone else know that you’re taken.

doesn’t like to admit it but he can be a tad bit possessive. when you’ve spent nearly a century having zero control over your life and your choices, being territorial is inevitable. bucky will be damned if he loses the one good thing he’s ever had, especially to some punk who needs to learn how to back off. it’s a bit irritating at first, but once he lets his walls down and confesses the reason behind his actions, you let the man stake his claim every now and then. only because you know there’s no toxic intent behind it and because it’s lowkey a little hot.

#1 cheek kisser oh my GOD. this might not make sense to some people but if you’ve ever seen grey’s anatomy, derek has the most gentle way of kissing meredith on the cheek and that’s exactly how i picture buck.

the “i hate everyone but you” boyfriend (except he’s not really mean to anyone per se, he just does a complete 180 and turns into a big pile of mush when you’re around.)

king of random gestures. he loves making you happy and will take just about any opportunity he can to see you smile. you got a raise at your job? there’s a bouquet with a note waiting at your desk. sometimes you’ll come home to little “just because” presents on your dining room table because bucky can’t help but find little glimpses of you everywhere he goes. it’s his unspoken way of showing just how much he loves and appreciates you.

when he’s tired and grumpy he 100% does grabby hands (with a sweet lil pout might i add) to get you to come into bed and it’s the cutest thing ever.

sam wasn’t kidding when he said bucky’s got a staring problem, but it’s much more endearing in a romantic context. he finds you so beautiful, so mesmerizing; how is he not supposed to stare? and it won’t always be because he’s admiring you externally. sometimes he’ll be so caught up thinking about how lucky he is that you; sweet, kind, funny, and caring you, chose him as your person. he can’t help it if his eyes are glued to you while he’s pondering. everytime you catch him, he breaks out that shy little smile of his, and you find yourself falling in love all over again.

“you’re staring y’know,” you tease, feeling your face warm under his observation. he just shrugs, gaze unwavering as he saunters closer. “can’t help it.” he always take pride in watching you grow flustered as he closes the gap and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

hot take: everytime i see “doll” used in fics for him i cringe real bad. i see bucky as more of a “honey” and “sweetheart” kind of guy. more honey than anything. in all honesty, i don’t see him breaking out pet names often, but if he’s going to, it’s one of those.

throws you over his shoulder like it’s absolutely nothing when you’re being difficult or arguing because he knows it’s a way to help playfully ease tension, as silly as it is. if he can get you laughing then you’re not mad, and if you’re not mad, he can reason with you a little better. it also leads to some very delicious sex afterwards when he conveniently drops you onto the mattress.

he’ll do the sweetest thing where if your hands are full this man will come up behind you and either put your hair in a braid or a ponytail (a pretty decent one might i add) if you need it away from your face. it’s always sealed with a kiss to the crown of your head and a squeeze of your hip, and never fails to give you butterflies.

SMUT:

i swivel back and forth between thinking that he’d be a bit hesitant or shaky with intimacy or that he knows how to please a woman in under five minutes. i honestly believe it’s somewhere in the middle; that while he does indeed have experience from his whore days back in the 40s, nowadays he’s not as willing to get to that point with someone unless there are deep feelings involved.

with that being said, when bucky decides to take that step in your relationship, boy does it take you by surprise. there’s a level of confidence that comes with being able to satisfy someone with such skill and ease, and he’s got it down pat. he’s even a little bit cocky with it, looking down at you smugly after your first orgasm, and it only amplifies your already flaming attraction to the super soldier.

nine times out of ten, sex is focused on your pleasure; he’s not cumming until you’ve cum at least once, and he’s not giving you a half assed release either. no, he’s working hard to make sure you see stars every damn time.

pussy eating king and i don’t think i need to elaborate on that.

is always down for a good dry hump. bucky loves kissing, kissing you more than anything, and one day he was particularly worked up, and it just…well it just happened. he was bright red once he realized what happened, but you quickly quelled any embarrassment he felt when you expressed that it was insanely hot. he didn’t even remotely understand why, until the next time it occurred. you were the one who came prematurely. and that, was when bucky understood the arousal behind it. now he’s got no qualms about having a good old fashioned makeout that may or may not end with a shared orgasm.

praise kink praise kink PRAISE KINK. it’s something he tries his hardest to hide but the boner he pops whenever you tell him he’s doing a good job in non intimate settings, and the increased speed of his thrusts when it happens during sex, are a dead giveaway. you tell bucky he’s being so good for you, making you feel so fucking good, and that man’s a goner. in his brain, it’s refreshing, exciting almost, to be told that he’s doing the right thing after a lifetime of being forced to make the wrong choices. what better place to hear that he’s right on track than when he’s with his lover?

hung. as. fuck.

i don’t foresee him being very vocal, but when he is, jesus take the wheel. somehow he always knows what to say and when to say it, no matter how few and far between the occasions may be.

“that feel good honey? yeah that’s right it fuckin’ does.” “always gonna take real good care of my girl.”

i don’t care if he’s got the serum stamina i 100% see this man conking out after sex. while he may be able to last a few rounds, the second you call it quits, the exhaustion overtakes him and he’s snoring into your pillow, but not before he pulls you close and peppers your face with kisses, muttering a final “i love you” before succumbing to slumber.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @dameronology @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

#retrosabers #sid writes shit #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #sebastian stan

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sweetshuga · 3 months ago

Text

𝑴.𝑺 ✰ 𝑩𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒙 ✧ 𝑪.𝑺

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

"𝒐𝒉 𝒇𝒖—𝒄𝒌, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒖𝒔𝒔𝒚’𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅—𝒔’𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒚, 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏’ 𝒖𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕."

𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔⚠ strong language, obscene descriptions, established polyamory, threesome, raw doggin’, creampie, breeding kink, bondage, oral (f! receiving), dp♡, toys, size kink, squirting, pet names, overstimulation (f!), degradation kink, praise kink, pain kink, domxsubxdom, daddy kink, spanking, blindfold, gag & every kinky thing in the book. [No incest, don’t play those games]

𝒘𝒄. 𝟤.𝟩 𝒌

𝒑𝒔𝒂. English is not my first language! 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 [Smut]

𝒂𝒏. I’m finally 18! Which means I can finally write filthy deranged smut without anons after my ass about it in my asks and what better way to celebrate it than a low-key hardcore kinky Chratt smut ×-×

You sat at the edge of your bed as Chris and Matt stood in front of you, both wearing little party hats and holding a medium sized cheesecake. You did celebrate your birthday with the triplets already, but they insisted on celebrating it again at your place. Your initial reaction was of confusion, but all you did now was giggle as they helped you wear a party hat of your own.

Just after they made you blow out the candles, all hell was let loose. One moment you were cutting the cake and the next they were eating it off of you. Your breathy sighs were cut short when the toys came into play. The toys, handcuffs, s&m ropes... where and when did they get them? Even you were surprised at the variety thrown on the bed beside you. They did have quite a few kinks, but was it ever this... much?

You looked up at them – now standing in front of you half naked, already fumbling with their belts. A chuckle rumbled out of you. "Wow," you breathed out, "should’ve warned me beforehand, quite a collection you got here." Their hands halted as they looked at each other and back at you, eyebrows raised. "Should’ve warned you?" Chris chuckled, and Matt chimed in with a smirk. "Sweetheart," he cooed, "there’s no need for warnings, we know what you want."

A noticeable shiver went down your spine, making the brothers chuckle in unison. They quickly shed the rest of their clothes, their erection bobbing obscenely as they walked back to your sprawled out form on the bed, still somewhat covered in the cheesecake. Their hands roamed over your body, heating the skin under their touch and making your body work overtime to produce slickness – your cotton undies soaked with it.

They couldn’t help but swallow thickly at the sight of you so vulnerable under their gaze, their touch sending more shivers down your spine hence the goosebumps appearing on your arms. Matt slowly licked his lips absentmindedly, feeling a bead of precum slowly rolling out of his slit and down the head of his cock. He hastily took off your underwear and Chris helped him by hoisting your hips up slightly—not letting you do any work.

You hissed in a breath when the cool air hit your throbbing clit, aching with need and slick with arousal. The sight of your pussy weeping just for them made their cock’s twitch. "So, birthday girl, whaddya want first? Toys or us?" Chris smirked, inching closer to you. You chuckled, "seriously Chris? You’re seriously gonna ask that? Toys over you two?" Chris chuckled at the obvious sarcasm in your tone, shrugging slightly as he spoke, "gotta ask ya ma, it’s crucial."

Matt rolled his eyes, playfully, before grabbing your knees and opening you up fully. Your breath hitched at the sudden exposure, looking at Matt with a look that screamed 'fuck me' which definitely didn’t go unnoticed by the brothers. They exchanged one knowing glance and immediately got to work. Chris gently cuffed your hands with the fuzzy black handcuffs while Matt tied your body up in pretty knots.

Your gaze fell down and over the bondage before going back to Matt, then Chris and back to Matt, a soft confused grin on your face. "Didn’t know you knew bondage stuff," Matt grinned bashfully at your words, a small hint of blush creeping up his neck. "Well, you don’t want me to get into detail." He simply said, his hand trailing down your torso adorned with the rope.

Your muscles tensed under his fingertips, a sharp intake of breath when the pad of his thumb made contact with your puffy clit, your whole body twitching. "Look who’s sensitive," Chris chuckled, "ain’t ya so fuckin’ ready for us ma?" Matt smirked as he ran a long finger up your slit, "oh she’s soaked alright, sooo soaked, all this for us huh?" you nodded despite the pink adorning the tips of your ears.

"Tsk—tsk," Matt clicked his tongue, "words, baby, use your words," he purred, "all this for us?" his tone wasn’t so playful anymore, more intense—more seductive. "Yeah, all of it... for you two," you said, averting your gaze for a moment as a sudden pang of embarrassment settled in you. "Ah-ah, no lookin’ away, look at us." Chris turned your head gently so you were facing them again.

"There, more like it," he chuckled, "oh and a piece of advice ma? You’re gonna be so fuckin’ embarrassed from all the beggin’ you’re gonna do later if you’re already embarrassed now so don’t think ’nd just feel— actually..." Chris trailed off, and he and Matt exchanged another glance before he scurried off to his discarded jeans and retrieved something from it.

A black silk blindfold... Oh? Now you know what they’re planning with that shit-eating smirks on their faces. Your mouth went dry, feeling your arousal run down your slit. "Y’kay with this, yeah?" You nodded, "yeah," you mumbled and let them blindfold you. Every slight graze felt more electric than before with your sight gone.

Your body jolted subtly when you heard the sudden sound of buzzing—undeniably from a vibrator. You didn’t even know whose hands were on you, so many sensations were given just from their hands roaming aimlessly over your bound body. Your thighs twitched when the tip of what seemed to be a wand vibe touched your inner thigh, buzzing gently against it – barely grazing it.

You squirmed ever so slightly, the throbbing in your core too much to bear. "Chris—Matt, please... I—I need it," you begged pathetically, feeling your cheeks flush in shyness. "Oh, don’t be shy now sweets, focus alright?" Matt tapped your inner thigh with the vibe repeatedly causing you to jolt each time. Chris chuckled lowly, "oh fuck, think I might get addicted to this... the whole bondage thing."

Your lips parted slightly to let out a breathy moan when the vibe finally connected with your aching nub. Your back arched but only for a split second before Chris pressed it back onto the bed. You frowned, confused, but the feeling of the vibe slowly getting stronger with each press on its button by Matt made your thoughts disperse into a puff of smoke. "A—hhn," you moaned, feeling a familiar knot forming rapidly.

Suddenly the vibe stopped, making you let out a whine of despair. "Wha– why, please—ohh fu—ck," your eyes rolled back behind the blindfold, wrists tensing against the bounds and breaths coming out in short gasps and moans. Matt had purposely pressed the setting to max and without a warning put the tip back on your puffy clit hence your euphoric reaction.

"Too much!" you mewled, your hips rolling to try and escape the vibrations, but the combination of Chris holding your hips down on the bed and Matt moving the vibe wherever you moved to was enough to drive you insane. Your moans grew louder as you rapidly approached an earth-shattering orgasm. "Oh fu—ck," you cried out when you felt a thick intrusion and no, it wasn’t warm indicating the... dildo vibrator? The moment you felt the vibrations deep in you—you knew you were done for.

Your whole body tensed and shook when the vibrating toy moved in and out of you, effectively hitting all your sweet spots all while the wand worked your clit. You let out a series of gasping moans, "w-wait, I’m gonna—cum, gonna, gonna cum oh- fu—ck," you wailed when the sensations became too much. The band snapped in your lower abdomen, your eyes widening behind the blindfold as you came hard.

Matt groaned aloud, "yeah, give it to us sweetheart, c’mon one more," he turned both the vibes off, tossed them somewhere on the bed and immediately dove down to get a taste of you. Moaning at the taste as he ate your sensitive cunt out, eliciting pornographic moans from you. Chris quickly secured the gag over your mouth, muffling your sounds of pleasure as you writhed against their touch.

Chris needed you in his mouth too, so when he saw your hardened nipples looking so invitingly, he just couldn’t resist himself. Your mind blanked when you felt another big one just out of reach, but when Chris suckled hard on your nipple while tweaking the other one between his fingers? You were already painting Matt's face with your cum. The clear liquid sprayed out while you sobbed in pure ecstasy. Your eyes screwed shut and body tense.

Matt pulled away after licking one lingering stripe up your slit, savoring your taste before rising up, his face glistening in your juices. Their cocks were painfully hard, all swollen at the tip and precum dripping down it. Chris gave himself a few pumps, moaning in pleasure at the relief. Just the sounds were enough to make you clench around nothing, your quivering pussy ready for more.

"Oh, you ready for us ma?" Chris chuckled when he got no answer, "c’mon answer me," he gently slapped your pussy, making you jolt from sensitivity. "Wha–?" you mumbled lazily, the gag preventing you from talking and your mind hazy from pleasure. "I said, you ready for us?" You nodded slowly, your expression nothing short of desire, "please—" as if to say 'say less' they quickly adjusted your position so you were laying on top of Chris, facing him, with Matt behind you.

"Look at that soaked pussy, so needy for us ain’t you?" A surprised yelp came from you when Matt spanked you, leaving a faint red mark, oh was he loving this. He gave your ass a few more slaps, watching intently as your body reacted to the sting and to no surprise—you were enjoying it. "What a filthy whore," he muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to hear and that did it for you. The way he said those degrading words, directed only to you, seemed to make you roll your hips to try and get any type of friction.

Chris exchanged a smirk with Matt, clearly amused by your antics. They loved when you got so desperate like now, letting out soft whines and begging them for more all while being completely tied up and helpless, gagged and blindfolded. They enjoyed tormenting you as much as you enjoyed it yourself.

"Alright, here is me," Chris aligned himself with your wetness and slowly pushed inside, groaning as he did so, "fuckin’ tight as always... but don’t worry mama, we’re gonna stretch you out just fine." You moaned at the intrusion, the feeling of his cock stretching you out – on its own – was enough, but Matt wanted some of that too. Your eyebrows knitted together under the blindfold when you felt Matt’s thick head nudge at your already full pussy.

Your body shivered when you felt the cold slickness. Lube... Oh, he was serious about this, wasn’t he? You bit down on the gag as he slowly pushed until his tip popped through, Matt’s hand ran up and down your back soothingly. "You okay sweetheart? hurts?" You nodded, and Matt sighed before pushing until all of him was inside alongside Chris, both of them groaning at the tight fit. "Fuck, sorry," he mumbled shakily, his large hands grasping your hips.

Your eyes nearly rolled back when Matt drew out before slamming back inside, a loud muffled whimper escaping through the gag. Your hands gripped onto the handcuffs behind your back for dear life when they both started to move after feeling you relax around them. "Oh, fu—ck, your pussy’s so good—s’greedy, suckin’ us in like that," Chris groaned, taking off your gag to pull you into a searing kiss.

Chris swallowed your moans of pleasure-pain, a messy sloppy kiss that turned your brain to mush and the feeling of their hefty lengths moving in and out of you mercilessly was enough to bring you closer. Chris soon broke the kiss, gasping softly for air as he kissed down your neck. Matt gripped a handful of your hair and yanked your head up, arching your back, hitting spots that made your thighs quiver.

"You’re doing sooo good for us... such a good girl for daddy huh?" Matt emphasized his words by going balls deep, "see? Taking both of our cocks without a complaint, fucking addictive ain’t ya?" he rasped. Chris suddenly slammed up, burying himself to the hilt—stretching you out completely. Your tears of pleasure soaked the blindfold, your words turning into incoherent babbles about how good it was with the occasional pet name daddy thrown in.

Matt loved hearing you call him daddy, and Chris? Well, despite his otherwise annoyed expression whenever you call him it, he secretly enjoyed it a whole lot. Especially when you were so cock-drunk and calling them daddy like now. "P-please, daddy—harder." You mewled, the words spilling out of you without a second thought.

If you weren’t so drunk on pleasure then you would’ve been so fucking embarrassed, but all you could think about at the moment were their hard cocks nestled deep in you. And they gave you exactly what you wanted, how could they not? You were begging so needily, so desperately and they would be lying if it wasn’t the most erotic thing they’ve seen before. Their hips picked up pace, hands roaming all over your body and grazing the ropes.

"So fuckin’ beautiful," Chris murmured breathlessly as he leaned up slightly to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, biting and suckling on it. Your body trembled with pure unadulterated pleasure as they continued ravaging your body. "S’good, so big o—h," you babbled, your words dissolving into moans as they hit every spot that made sparks light up behind your eyes.

You could feel the pressure slowly building, the knot tightened with each of their thrusts until you couldn’t hold back anymore. With a loud withdrawn moan, you finally let go, your body wracked with aftershocks as they fucked you through it and immediately to a new high. Your body reacted so strongly to them and their words that you were already cumming again.

Their paces faltered before abruptly fastening, now laced with pure desperation for release. You could hear the profanities leaving their lips as well as ragged moans and groans. "Fuck, gonna fill you up s’good ma, fuckin’ knock you up, make you our baby mama." Matt chimed in, "yeah—fuck, you gonna be our breeding slut? Our good girl?" he groaned, their breaths hitching as they got closer and closer.

You could only respond with a series of 'yes' and 'fill me up', too fucked with pleasure to make full sentences. And they did, one after the other, filling you up to the brim with their seed until it was leaking out the sides of your stuffed full cunt. "Oh fu—ck," they moaned in unison, feeling your eager pussy milking them for all they’re worth. They slowly pulled out, seeing your pussy stuffed full with their cum sent a thrill down both their spines.

After catching their breaths, Chris took off your blindfold and you squinted at the sudden exposure to the light despite it being a dim bedside lamp. You blinked, your voice hoarse from all that moaning. Matt’s hands deftly worked to untie the knots, and after a few minutes, you were finally free from all the restraints. Your body was covered in light pink marks of where the ropes were, the handcuffs didn’t leave any marks, but your wrists were still sore nonetheless.

Matt and Chris never failed to give you the best aftercare and attention after your intimacy. They knew they could get a bit too passionate in bed and plus what’s the harm in pampering their girl? They loved pampering you, whether it was with money, attention or... well, sex.

"Happy birthday," they murmured in unison as their hands roamed over your body once again, already getting hard. They wanted to bring you so much pleasure to the point of you begging them for mercy, it was as if they could read your mind, see through your day dreams. After all, it is your birthday and birthday girls get their wishes – their deepest desires and fantasies – fulfilled, don’t they?

𓆩♡𓆪

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @emely9274 @chrisfavoritewhore @lilyyliloo @larallott @thebigbadwolfahoooo @strnlslut @knowingnothingnoel @slvtf0rchr1s @sturnioloszn @sofiaaguilaxx @sophand4n4 @mattsfavoritestar @strnilolover @diasturnsth @brookheartsmatt @tpwktahlz @crazychick21 @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @sagesturns @chrisstopherfilmed @splashhsworld @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @urfavallyyy @mattsninja @bilssturns @shadowthesim @ivysturnss @peiivnao @sturniolokaulitz @megluvrr @marrykisskilled @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @s1ut4chris @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @ribread03 @hearts4werka @whore4mattsturniolo @stvrnzwrld @mattslovergirlie @lovergirl4gracieabrams

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