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creamflix · 16 days ago

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𖦏 /mdni: age gap ( gojo is in his 40's, reader is in her 20's as a university student ). swimsuits. lots of chlorine 'n sweat. fingering. scenting [?]. random scene jump since i did not plan this much, sorry ):

gojo satoru, at the ripe old age of 45, had come to a singular, immutable conclusion about the world: fashion was a godless pit.

he sat in his disgustingly expensive living room, squinting at his phone, trying to make sense of the endless scroll of short skirts, crop tops, and swimsuits that looked more like intricate strings of betrayal than actual clothing. "must be global warming," he muttered aloud, tossing the phone onto the couch beside him. "or everyone's just decided modesty is for losers."

and honestly? he couldn't blame them. if he still had a body like his younger self—taut and reckless and unsullied by the grim ache that came with being halfway to 90—he'd be strutting around in a speedo too. except, even now, he still looked good. better than good. infuriatingly good.

but none of it mattered. people didn’t care about the six-pack or the sharp jawline anymore. no, they cared about what his bank account looked like. how many zeros were tucked neatly behind that '1'.

and then there was you.

sweet, sunny you. who stumbled into his orbit not because of his money or his name, but because you were genuinely stupid enough to think he was funny.

poor thing.

he couldn't let you go after that. decided then and there that he’d keep you—like a pretty bird in a gilded cage, doors always wide open if you ever wished to leave.

but you hadn't. not yet.

and gojo, for all his sins, wasn't a man who believed in wasting miracles.

the front door clicked open, the sharp wet slap! of your flip-flops hitting the marble echoing through the house. he turned lazily towards the sound, propping his head up on the back of the couch, expecting you to look the way you usually did: messy hair, oversized hoodie, probably snacking on something you didn't pay for.

what he did not expect was to see you walk in wearing a swimsuit that looked like it had fought for its life to cover even an inch of you. the university pool's standard issue, right? supposed to be modest?

laughable.

the navy-blue one-piece clung to you like a desperate lover, the material slick and gleaming under the hallway lights, still wet enough to trace the delicate dip of your navel, the teasing slope of your hips.

gojo's breath hitched embarrassingly quick.

he was used to beautiful things. he'd had beautiful things.

but you—flushed from the sun, hair dripping, toes curled against the cold tile—were a whole different breed of temptation. you looked up, saw him staring, and smiled—bright, innocent, with not a damn clue about the fire you were poking at.

"hey, satoru," you chirped, tossing your towel over a chair without a second thought. "the pool was freezing."

your voice was casual, offhanded—as if you weren't currently rewriting every plan he had for the rest of the night.

"freezing, huh?" he echoed, forcing himself to sound normal, even as his eyes tracked a single bead of water sliding slowly down the column of your throat, over your chest, sinking between the soft weight of your breasts.

he swallowed. hard.

you didn't notice.

of course you didn't. you trusted him. believed him harmless, just a lazy old man nursing a midlife crisis and a wallet full of guilt.

"go shower before you catch a cold," he said, voice low, a little rough around the edges.

you pouted—a dangerous, stupid thing to do.

"but i'm so tired..." you whined, dragging yourself closer, so close he could smell the chlorine clinging to your skin. "i just wanna sit down for a bit..."

then, without thinking—without even hesitating—you flopped down beside him, soaking his sweatpants instantly, your thigh pressed against his, warm and soaked.

gojo stiffened like you'd jabbed a knife into him.

play it cool. he told himself. play it cool. be the adult. be the—

you shifted, your hip rubbing his with a casual intimacy that stripped the last ounce of patience he had left. his hand twitched, almost reaching out to grab your waist, to yank you into his lap where you fucking belonged—

but he stopped himself. barely. instead, he turned his head to you, a slow, sly smile tugging at his lips.

"you know," he drawled, voice darkening, "you keep dangling yourself in front of me like this, and one of these days, i might just take you up on it."

your eyes widened—not scared, not angry—just startled. maybe a little curious.

and that's when gojo knew he had you.

the tension was thick enough to choke on now, a crackling heat in the air between you. you weren't moving away. you weren't scrambling for distance. you were waiting.

gojo's fingers brushed against your bare thigh, featherlight, as he tilted his head, studying you like something delicate he was about to devour.

he likes to think of himself as a patient man.

he waited out assassination attempts, board meetings—hell, he even waited thirty whole years for someone to finally invent a decent low-fat ice cream. but this? this stupid, stubborn, university-issued swimsuit? this was testing his goddamn limits.

"modern fabric technology my ass," he hissed under his breath, thumbs digging uselessly against the slick material clinging to your skin like a second, infuriatingly sexy layer. it squelched wetly when he tried to peel it back— squelch! —snapped aggressively when he yanked a little too hard— snap!

you let out a soft, startled whimper at the noise, your hands flinching to your sides, clearly unsure if you were supposed to help or apologize.

and the worst part? every time the fabric stretched and snapped, it pulled at your body, hugging even tighter to the soft curves he was desperate to get his mouth on.

"it's like fighting a fucking sea monster," gojo muttered, half to himself, half into the crook of your neck, where he was already nuzzling shamelessly, breathing in the dizzying mix of chlorine, shampoo, and something sweetly, deliciously you.

you laughed, breathy and nervous, squirming against him—and jesus, the way the motion made your hips rock against his thigh—

it was a miracle he didn't just lose it then and there.

he got a good grip on you, finally, hands spanning your waist like he was meant to hold you. hoisting you up was embarrassingly easy, your thighs falling open around one of his, your bare skin sticking to his sweatpants with a nasty little schlck!

"there we go," he purred, voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble, the vibrations making you shiver in his arms. "nice and easy, baby. just sit pretty for me."

you bit your lip, eyes wide and glassy, and that look alone—trusting, needy—made his cock throb almost violently against the confines of his pants.

but there was still the matter of the swimsuit.

gojo growled under his breath, fighting the urge to just rip it in half, consequences be damned. instead, he reached between your legs, fingers tugging at the soaked crotch area, trying to pull it aside—

useless. it snapped right back into place every damn time, slapping wetly against your folds in a way that made your whole body twitch and whimper.

"hold it," he ordered finally, voice sharp enough to cut through your foggy little brain. "c'mon, baby. use those pretty fingers. hold it open for me."

your cheeks flushed bright red, but you obeyed, trembling hands slipping down, pinching the slippery fabric to the side with a soft squelk! that sent another thick wave of your scent flooding the air between you.

gojo's mouth actually watered.

he leaned down just a bit, the barest hint of wetness already slicking your thighs. "fuck," he whispered reverently, his fingers tracing the delicate, soaked folds, barely touching, making you whine and jerk in his hold. "all that for me, huh? you don't even know what you do to me, baby..."

and oh, he tasted it, tasted you in the heavy, wet air—salty with chlorine, sweet with your arousal, and something so devastatingly you that he knew he'd be a fucking addict after one taste. he grinned against your skin, wicked and slow.

"better hold it reaall tight, sweetheart," he warned, thumb dragging lazily up your slit, slicking through the mess you were already making. "because once i start, i don't think i'm gonna be polite about it."

your answering whimper, small and broken, was the last little crack his restraint needed. he shifted you higher on his thigh, grinding you down against the hard muscle, making you gasp and cling to him, your wet cunt dragging sloppy little circles against the rough fabric of his pants. the obscene sounds filled the room, bouncing off the marble walls, mixing with your breathless moans and his low, guttural praise. gojo watched you unravel, watched the way your thighs trembled and your hands slipped, struggling to keep the suit out of the way.

and when you finally looked at him, eyes pleading, mouth trembling, body so soft and willing in his hands—

he knew tonight, he wouldn't be letting you go until you learned exactly what kind of man you had decided to stay with.

it should've been criminal, honestly. but it was almost funny, in a pathetic, cosmic way—

someone like you, perched so innocently on his lap, trembling and squirming with every ruthless thrust of his fingers—while he sat back against the couch, loose-limbed and panting, looking every bit the man who had lost his mind over some university brat.

the great gojo satoru, clan head, most powerful man alive, reduced to a panting, desperate mess, all because of you.

he looked absolutely deranged like this, mouth open, tongue dragging up the inside of your neck with the clumsy enthusiasm of a dog who didn’t know any better, lapping at the traces of chlorine and sweat with wet slck! sounds that made your toes curl.

his fingers—god, those fingers—were pistoning into you with brutal precision, slick squelches schlk! schlk! filling the too-big, too-quiet living room, so much wetter than even he could've hoped for. he meant well, he swore he did—even as he crooked his fingers cruelly, dragging hard against the spot inside you that made you seize and sob, the obscene squelch of your cunt tightening around him egging him on without mercy.

"fuckin' hell, baby," gojo slurred against your neck, voice dripping wet with awe and hunger, "you’re makin' such a mess... you’re gonna short-circuit the damn couch." he buried his face closer, nosing at the twitching pulse of your neck, inhaling deep, shaking with the effort to not just bite down into your tender skin like some starved beast.

the smell was devastating—chlorine sharp, but overpowered by your sweet, rich sweat, thick and heady in the air until it felt like he could taste it just by breathing.

but breathing wasn’t enough. it was never gonna be enough.

your swimsuit was a pathetic little thing now, pulled aside and barely hanging onto your hip, the fabric dark and glistening where it clung to your slick skin. every messy thrust of his fingers into your tight little cunt made the ruined elastic snap! wetly against your thigh, a constant, obscene slck, schlck! filling the room like background music to your ragged little gasps. gojo could feel every twitch, every desperate little clench around his fingers—long, calloused from years of pointless paperwork and weaponized now for one thing only: you.

he should’ve been embarrassed, really, with how hard he was throbbing in his pants, with how shamelessly he was rutting his own hips up into the curve of your ass, grinding helplessly against you like a teenager—but how could he care, when you were making those pretty, broken little noises for him?

“baby, you’re fuckin’ floodin’ me,” he drawled, voice hoarse, breath ghosting over your shoulder. his forehead pressed to your temple, damp with sweat, catching the faint smell of chlorine and your syrupy sweat clinging to your skin. “keep squeezin’ me like that, i might just start cryin'.”

your clit, swollen and neglected, brushed against the heel of his palm with every roll of his hand, sending violent little shudders through your whole frame. you whined, high and desperate, hands scrabbling uselessly at the thick fabric of his shirt, trying to find something, anything, to hold onto.

and fuck, if that didn't make him feral.

his thigh bounced under you with every sharp, merciless thrust, jostling your whole body in rhythm to the wet sounds of his fingers driving deeper, curling viciously inside you. the couch creaked softly under the growing violence of it—the smell of sweat, chlorine, and sex practically boiling in the air. you tried to hold the swimsuit aside again, fumbling with clumsy fingers, but you were too far gone—the slick fabric snapped back snap! against your folds, making you jolt and keen, forcing more slick to gush out around his knuckles with a lewd, messy schlck!

“aww, you’re tryin’ so hard,” he crooned mockingly, hips grinding up sharper beneath you, forcing his fingers impossibly deeper. “poor baby... can't even keep your little swimsuit outta the way for me,” he rasped, his free hand coming up to palm at your lower belly, pressing down firmly to feel every obscene squelch of his fingers plunging in and out, deeper and deeper, mixing the chlorine with the thick, syrupy gush of your cum.

you whimpered something weak and unintelligible, legs trembling, your whole body sagging against him—and god, the way you soaked him, smearing slick across his hand, his pants, the insides of your own thighs—it was filthy. so stupidly filthy he was seeing white at the edges of his vision.

he flexed his fingers again, grinding the rough heel of his palm against your throbbing clit, relishing the squelch! that answered him, feeling your cunt spasm wildly around him. "c'mon, sweetheart," he murmured, voice pure sin against your ear, "show me what you got. make a mess for me, yeah? ‘m not stoppin’ till you do."

and judging by the way your body was already locking up in his arms, teetering on the edge, shaking like a leaf—he knew you were gonna give it to him, sooner rather than later. you’d have no choice. not when he had you like this—wrecked, whining, split open on his hand with nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nowhere to even think except for how good it felt to let him ruin you.

yeah, this swimsuit? he was keeping it. it was practically soaked in you already, the sharp smell of chlorine completely overwhelmed by the pure, sticky, sweet scent of your cunt. he grinned against your skin, tongue flicking lazily at your neck just to hear the way you choked on your own moan, body stiffening, that pretty belly flexing under his hand.

"fuck, angel," he whispered, voice all cracked and reverent, "you were made to ruin me, huh?"

and ruin him you would—because even now, even with your thighs trembling and your voice breaking, you were still grinding desperately against him, chasing after the pleasure only he could give, greedy and glistening and so fucking beautiful he could barely see straight.

he’d drag you down with him, into this filthy little hell he was building with his hands and mouth, and he wouldn’t let you go till you forgot there was ever a world outside this house.

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sizzlingcloudmentality · 3 months ago

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finite eternity

Professor Reed Richards x f!reader | wc: 1 k | ao3 | mdni, fluff

summary: after getting your phd you return to your former professor to thank him. he says some nice things and you get a "you're coming" guarantee. coming to dinner that is.

warnings: legal age gap (reader's mid/end 20, Reed is however deliciously middle aged), a little angsty, a few possible double entendres (or maybe not? you get to decide), a little pining, finger under the chin (twice), the poor attempt of science metaphors, and if you like: there's definitely some threesome things happening AFTER this fic

a/n: I need Reed Richards. and a smart man with grey hair at a blackboard? hell yeah. telling me he's proud of me? hell yeah. inviting me home to have dinner with him and his perfect wife? HELL YEAH. thanks to my perfect wife @guiltyasdave for the quick beta and the squealing<3

series masterlist - prologue - ch. 1

The big doors open silently and you slip into the lecture hall. The one you've spent so many hours in, learning, despairing, making friends. Falling in love even. You haven't been here for two years and everything has changed and everything is somehow still the same.

Quietly you take the steps down, careful to not startle Professor Richards who is writing on the blackboard. The quiet, smooth rasp of the chalk against the dark surface sounds so familiar that it gives you butterflies. Or maybe it’s him, still him.

A smile crosses your face when you read the formulas on the board, you know them well, you wrote your thesis about them. When you reach the first row and you pull down one of the seats a loud creak disturbs the peaceful and dignified aura of wisdom and science. Reed turns around, already a charming smile on his lips to shoo some eager students back out of the room.

“Sorry, lecture doesn’t start until…-” And his smile turns genuine, his eyes crinkle and his head tilts down so he can give you that one look from under his lashes. “You? What, did you forget to start your assignment on time again?”

Your own smile grows and the butterflies are still in the pit of your stomach. Maybe it was Reed all along. The old banter, it flares up so easily between the two of you like there hasn't been a two year break.

Your elbows propped up on the table in front of you, your chin resting on your folded hands, just like you spent half of the lectures in this hall. Nothing has changed.

“I can assure you, there are no due assignments anymore, Professor-”

“Reed, please,” he interrupts you and puts the chalk away. “You’re one of us now, please call me Reed.”

He wipes his fingers clean before walking over to you and sitting down on the fixed table next to you.

“You've heard about it?” You feel so proud in this moment, being one of them, one of the smart scientists, and it feels like you've worked your ass off just for this: the doctor title and the privilege to call your first mentor Reed.

“Of course I have. I’ve watched you. Your successes. Congratulations!” He holds out his hand, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and giving you free sight to his forearms. He is still so incredibly toned. You take his hand and when his warm palm swallows yours in a firm shake your breath hitches just the slightest bit. Nothing has changed.

“Thank you. For everything, Reed. Without your support I wouldn't have been able to-”

He shakes his head, interrupting you again. You're not even mad. “None of that. You did it all yourself, all the hard work. All the hours you stayed awake at night, working through papers… All I did was giving you a little nudge every now and then.”

You remember the little nudges. The encouraging notes you sometimes found. Or when he squeezed your arm, his thumb rubbing over your shirt. Your eyes flick from his smile to his eyes and then you take in his whole face. There's more grey in his hair now. A few more wrinkles. But the soft waves in his hair are still there. He still holds your hand, even has placed his other one on top.

You look at each other for a moment and the moment stretches into a small eternity that just belongs to you and him. He probably knows a formula to describe this phenomenon.

“I'm proud of you,” he says quietly and heat crawls up your neck when he squeezes your hand, his thumb caressing the skin over your knuckles.

“Thank you, Reed,” you whisper and feel shy all of a sudden.

Just as shy as that one evening, when he helped you with something, you can't even remember what it was. But you sat in his office, slumped over your notes, frustration gnawing at you like you gnawed at the end of your pencil. Until he was next to you and nudged your chin up to make you look at him.

He didn’t say anything at that moment, there was just silence and his finger under your chin and the scent of books and tea and his aftershave and his tongue running along his lips. Another of those finite eternities. “You’ll be doing great,” he said and made time start running again. Slowly running, like his thumb along your bottom lip. For just the fraction of a second. As if it had never happened…

“You look all grown up. Like the woman I always knew you were.” He squeezes your hand again and you blink. You are back again, in the lecture hall in which Professor Richards made you fall in love with science. Back in the front row, with Reed saying things you'll stash away for later.

“Come over for dinner. Sue loves getting to know my science spawns.” He leans closer, his smile morphing into a mischievous smirk. “Especially the pretty ones. Pretty smart ones.”

You hesitate, at loss for words with Reed being so close that his gravitational pull draws you closer. Your mouth opens and closes again when he tugs on your hands, making your orbit a little smaller.

“Just say yes. It will be grand. Now, that we're all adults. All grown up,” he whispers and his voice, sweet and rich, says so much more than the words mean. “I know you want to, I know that face…”

He tips your chin up with the simple touch of his finger and you can't hide your excitement anymore. You roll your eyes and scoff out a little chuckle.

“Fine. I’m coming.”

“Oh, I know you will!” He gets up again, the pad of his finger still under your chin. “Sue and I will make sure of it.”

Maybe some things have changed.

whoopsie, no smut in this. i still hope you like it, let me know <3

find my general masterlist here

divider: @/saradika-graphics

#reed richards x f!reader #reed richards x you #reed richards x reader #reed richards fanfiction #fantastic four #reed richards #fantastic four fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fandom #pedro pascal #my writing #series: finite eternities

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spinelikericekrispy · 3 months ago

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I cannot find a damn thing. This is the only one…which means someone has to write the next one.

Consolation recs:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27640891

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31301357

^ This one is short but I love her.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23901826

My Bookmark for this one: Arthur has his sword TO HIS FATHERS THROAT and goes "Wow Merlin polished this sword really well :D" AND I'M STILL STUCK ON IT

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734010

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899338

Arthur: So you have magic?

Merlin: Uh… yeah?

Arthur: for how long?

Merlin: Since birth.

Arthur: And you’re a dragon lord?

Merlin: Yeah my father was and it gets passed down.

Arthur: Sounds like royalty.

Merlin: No? I don’t think so.

Arthur: Yes it is, that means you’re a noble, a lord. We can get married now.

Merlin: WHAT???

#tried to keep to a hit count under 10k #as low as possible really #if none of them are new lmk i’ve got like 20 more #lmao wrong blog but i dont feel like switching this is trippinbongos

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falesten-iw · 9 months ago

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Urgent 🆘️ call: 🚨🍉 Please help..🥺😓🙏

My name is Falastin, and I am a mother of three small children, ages 5 years, 2 years, and 3 months. I am not very good with social media, but I am writing to seek your help to give my family in Gaza the chance to live their lives again.

Due to the ongoing genocide we in Gaza are experiencing, my family need your help to survive, leave Gaza, and find safety.

In november 2023 last year, i lost three of my cousins from my mother's family with their wifes and children's, some of them still under the rubble untill now.

In mars 2024 this year i lost another 2 cousins in Alshifa hostpital, this shock after three months of the first lose was a big slap into our face, it was a harsh reminder that death didn’t stop, and that none of us is an exception in this genocide, not a woman nor a child, everyone of us is a target to the death machines above our heads.

My family has lost everything. Some of them have tragically passed away, and those who remain are without shelter, moving from one temporary place to another in a desperate attempt to stay alive. Currently "After more than 20 times of being displaced and having to leave our house escaping from rockets and death " they have fled south and are living in a makeshift tent made from plastic bags and torn clothes.

Each day is a battle for survival. Each day, my family wakes up not knowing if they will have food to eat, clean water to drink, or a safe place to rest. Their homes have been wiped, and their children sit sleepless waiting their death. In Gaza, there is no where to seek shelter, no bunkers, nowhere to hide. Gaza is no more than 40 kilometers long and 10 kilometers wide with a population of just over two million. Gaza's border is completely surrounded by fences and barbed wire. The only way out of Gaza is to Egypt.

I used to introduce myself as the youngest in the family but in this GENOCIDE I’m a big sister who see her siblings’ future getting lost in front of her eyes, as i see my brothers kids who are still young and supposed to be in school, my mom who is 73 years old unable to find her medicine, as I see them, I made it a mission to myself to save my family or who’s left alive from it, to save their future from all of this and to escape Gaza.

Despite everything, I still have hope to save those who remain of my family. But I need all the help I can get from every person on earth. This challenge is not easy for me, especially since I am not good with social media and i dont have so many follower to reach and ask them for help. However, I am trying, and maybe with your support, the impossible can become possible.

Asking for your help is the only way I have to save my family’s life and future. Your help can be our hope when hope seems far away. Because of that, I appeal to your generosity and compassion, asking for help so that we can gather the necessary funds to help my family.

Photos of "Lina," who was born at the start of the war, and she is now 9 months old. Your donation could give her the chance to survive, leave Gaza, and find safety with her family.

I would like to thank everyone who has donated, shared and supported my campaign so far. Your generosity has given us hope in the darkest of times, and I am deeply grateful.

So far, we have raised 3,950 SEK of our 2,000,000 SEK goal - August 15th. While this is a small step, it is a crucial one, and it shows that together, we can make a difference. We still have a long way to go, and I urge you to continue sharing our story and contributing if you can.

Every donation, no matter the size, brings us closer to saving my family and giving them a chance at life. Please read and act as if it were your family, your mother, your siblings in these conditions. 🙏🙏🙏💔💔💔💔

Important note: Donation value:

** 1$ = 10.5 Swedish kr

** 10$ = 105 Swedish kr

** 100$ = 1050 Swedish kr

** 1000$ = 10500 Swedish kr

VETTED and shared by 90-ghost, also as no. 282 in The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet compiled by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi and shared in the masterpost.

We have also been verified by Al Jazeera News. Here is the video. I added this video today, august 15th. Its showing my cousin and aunt in the hospital, where she shares how the Israeli army airstruck them with their kids. Listen to my aunt Suad "Em Mhammed".

Best regards,

Falastin and her family.

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ailesswhumptober · 11 months ago

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Prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2024

As promised, we're bringing you the official prompt list of AI-less Whumptober 2024 today!

We have 31 days of excellent whump prompts, with three prompts per day to pick from, fun themes, and 10 alt prompts to play around with. We hope you enjoy! Additional info + plain text versions of the prompts can be found under the cut.

FAQ and Rules

What sort of content can I create for this event?

You can create whatever you want (fic, art, edits, etc). Any fandom is allowed, as well as OC stuff. NSFW is allowed, but please tag your content accordingly! The only thing not allowed is AI-generated content.

Do I need to make 31 things to participate?

Oh heavens no! You can make as much or as little content as you like, skip days when desired, or combine prompts (so for example, write something that covers a prompt from day 1, 2, AND 3). You don't have to do the days in order either, go wild! To be considered a 'completionist', you only have to make sure that at the end of the month, you've covered 31 prompts from 31 different days, but whether you do that in 31 works or just 1 is up to you.

What are these alts about?

If none of the three prompts of a particular day are your cup of tea, you can swap them out for an alt prompt of your choice.

What are these themes about?

Just a little bit of extra fun for the mods. Like last year, we'll be handing out various badges for people participating in the event. A full list can be found here, perhaps there is a special badge or two for people who can't be completionists but who do manage to finish every single day of a specific theme ;)

How do I tag and is there an AO3 collection?

It suffices to tag your work with #ailesswhumptober for us to see and reblog it! Please also tag nsfw, since we'll be using that tag too. Tagging the day is optional but does help the mods along.

There is an AO3 collection to add your fics to here.

That should be all. If you have any additional questions, check our pinned or hit us up in the ask box. Or join our discord maybe, whumping can be a great group activity!

---

Plain text versions of the prompts:

October 1 - Torture Tuesday

public torture/public use, stress position, “If you cry, we’ll go easy on you.”

October 2 - Whumperless Wednesday

Unfortunate fall, car accident, “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

October 3 - Trauma Thursday

Shared trauma, survivor’s guilt, “It’s not your fault.”

October 4 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Painful transformation, non-consensual body modifications, “You’re a monster.”

October 5 - Sensory Saturday

Overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.”

October 6 - Surprise Sunday

Multiple whumpees, self sacrifice, “I’m the only one who can do this.”

October 7 - Medical Monday

Field medicine, running out of supplies, “Hold on, we’re going to have to improvise.”

October 8 - Torture Tuesday

Rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.”

October 9 - Whumperless Wednesday

Hypothermia, heatstroke, “You look pretty pale.”

October 10 - Trauma Thursday

Self worth issues, pushing away a loved one, “You don't need to earn this.”

October 11 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Hallucinations, truth serum, “Why would you even say that?”

October 12 - Sensory Saturday

Isolation, sensory deprivation, “Can you feel me? I’m right here, whumpee.”

October 13 - Surprise Sunday

Whumpee using themself as bait, defiance, “Take me instead.”

October 14 - Medical Monday

Seizures, concussion, “See if you can follow my finger with your eyes.”

October 15 - Torture Tuesday

Waterboarding, removing body parts, “Don’t break down on me yet.”

October 16 - Whumperless Wednesday

Drowning, hostile environment, “I don’t know how anybody could survive that.”

October 17 - Trauma Thursday

Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?”

October 18 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Mind control, possession, “Everybody will end up despising you.”

October 19 - Sensory Saturday

Disassociation, losing a sense, “I wish I could get you back.”

October 20 - Surprise Sunday

Enemy/Stranger to caretaker, accidental de-aging, “I’m absolutely not qualified for this shit.”

October 21 - Medical Monday

Drugged, ambulance ride, “This will make you feel better, okay?”

October 22 - Torture Tuesday

Forced (to kneel/watch/hurt somebody else), whipped, “Do not look away.” October 23 - Whumperless Wednesday

Fever, passing out, “Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!”

October 24 - Trauma Thursday

Deconditioning, relapse, “It’s normal that you need more time.”

October 25 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Humiliation, betrayal, “How could you?!”

October 26 - Sensory Saturday

Electrocution, burning, “This is going to sting.”

October 27 - Surprise Sunday

Before vs after, Alternate universe, “Well, there’s a first for everything.”

October 28 - Medical Monday

Internal bleeding, needles and stitches, “I didn’t think the wound was that bad…”

October 29 - Torture Tuesday

Ownership, branding, “Everybody will know that you’re mine.”

October 30 - Whumperless Wednesday

Poison, delirium, “You’re not making sense.”

October 31 - Trauma Thursday

Panic attack, facing a phobia, “You need to get out of here!”

Alt prompts:

1) Pistol whipped

2) Co-dependency

3) Animal bite

4) Zombies

5) White room torture

6) Shock collar

7) Pulling teeth

8) Kidnapping

9) “You always make everything worse!”

10) “If you weren’t around, I’d be long dead by now...”

#whumptober 2024 #whumptober #ailesswhumptober2024 #whump prompt #whump event

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cookie-waffle · 2 years ago

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Uselessly reminding you that these things are all canon in TOTK:

- Riju is super short for a gerudo her age, but still way taller than Link

- Link has a pet koi fish (or multipul depending on how many pools you put in your dream home)

- Being able to name the piss horse golden horse implies that Zelda had not given it a name yet. Perhaps because she’s a perfectionist and must think of the perfect name, or because she rescued the horse very recently before totk, but fell in love with it so quickly that she just had to have a picture of it in her house.

- The amount (and quality) of paintings done by Princess Zelda points towards her being very artistically talented, which is not something shown in botw. Perhaps this is a sign of her feeling more free and comfortable to be herself.

- Link has 8 ear piercings in total

- Link is still very short, but, it’s easier to see his muscle definition than in botw, meaning he did actually grow like a normal person just not… vertically.

- In the original Japanese text, Zelda calls the Hateno house “the house” instead of “my house” 👀

-The elemental armor headgear will allow you to dye Link’s hair at the dye shop.

- Originally, I thought Link could see the koroks in botw because he was only 17, and that koroks sorta worked like the picori, in that only kids could see them. However, he can still see them in his 20s. So, the games could be implying that he sees them because he was raised as one of them in a past life, and that part of his soul is still connected to the forest.

- The game likely takes place around 5-6 years after botw, because there are quite a lot of new child NPCs, none of which look or act young enough to be considered toddlers.

huge spoilers under the cut

- Link was canonically a furry zonai in a past life, but he’s noticeably less humanoid than Rauru or Mineru. Link has a tail, digitigrade legs, and even dew claws. Meanwhile, Rauru and Sonia have no tails and are plantigrade. This makes me wonder if zonai started intermarrying with mortals long before Rauru met Sonia, which could account for the more human-like traits.

- Link being a zonai at one point finally makes it 100% canon that Link does not need to be reborn as a hylian. It is entirely possible that he could have been a gerudo at some point, or may even be one in a future game.

#totk spoilers #legend of zelda tears of the kingdom

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harunayuuka2060 · 9 months ago

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Vil: I possess a charm that no one else can covet-

MC: I CAST! IMPOSTER SYNDROME!

Idia: *kicks MC's leg under the table*

MC: Ow! What?!

Vil: *already glaring at them*

MC: ...

Leona: Is Vil immune to that?

Idia: ...

Idia: Unfortunately, no.

Malleus: *laughs*

Vil: ...

Vil: Idia, what are my options now that I have an imposter syndrome?

Idia: Um, let's see. You can have MC as a friend and guilt-trip them for the rest of their days,

Idia: Or steal their dragon.

MC: WHAT?!

Leona and Malleus: *starts singing* Consequence, consequence, here comes the consequence.

MC: ...

Vil: ...

Vil: *to Leona and Malleus* You're getting along well.

Leona: Our divorce is on the way.

Vil: What happened to your 20 babies?

Malleus: Due to a curse, I ate them.

Idia: Yeah... He cried for the whole session, but we reminded him that none of this was real.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst vil #twst idia #twst leona #twst malleus

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 4 months ago

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Crème de la Crème

Crème de La Crème — (French, literally 'cream of the cream') is an idiom meaning "the best of the best", "superlative", or "the very best".

Pairing || DBF!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || After telling your dad a little white lie about your plans for the night, you end up on a date with his best friend Bucky. As you bond over your shared love of whiskey, you realize you have a lot more in common than just sex. The night progresses with feelings and fears being shared, throwing teasing looks at one another, uttering flirtatious remarks, sharing a homemade pizza, and at the end, a delicious cheesecake that kicks off the most mind-blowing night of pleasure you could imagine.

Word Count || 5845

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, major age-gap (reader is early/mid 20’s, Bucky is late 40’s), alcohol consumption, pet names (doll, baby, etc.), teasing, oral (female receiving), multiple orgasms, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note || I started this fic in January of 2023… and I finally finished it. But yey here it is. I struggled with the summary but I hope it’s ok and understandable. Idk what more to say so enjoy :)

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

DBF!Bucky Masterlist

“Argh, is there really nothing in this closet for me to wear?” you muttered, ransacking your bedroom in search for the perfect dress to wear for your date tonight. Your fingers trailed over fabric after fabric, none of them capturing what you were looking for.

Your hair and makeup were done to perfection, but finding the right outfit to go with it proved to be a challenge. You wanted something that would make you feel confident and alluring. Something that would make your dates breath catch in his throat when he first saw you.

Just as frustration started to overwhelm you, your hand brushed against something in the furthest corner of your closet—a dress you had forgotten about. As you pulled it out, a smile spread across your face. It was perfect.

Standing before your full-length mirror, you smoothed the fabric over your curves and gave a twirl. The dress hugged your body, accentuating your best features. Combined with your hair and makeup, your date wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself. You couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. “Oh, he will not be able to resist you tonight, girl.”

With one final glance in the mirror, you gave yourself a nod of approval, before you descended the stairs quietly, hoping to slip past your dad unnoticed. Your footsteps were light against the steps, trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself.

Your dad had always been supportive of your social life. He trusted you to make safe and good decisions. But tonight was different—tonight you needed to be discrete, because he would not approve of where you were going.

Just as you thought you had made it past undetected, his voice carried from the living room. “Heading out without saying goodbye, honey?”

You stopped mid-step, a soft curse escaping under your breath. Composing yourself, you peeked into the room with a convincing smile.

He was flipping through the channels on the TV, the coffee table stacked with enough snacks and beer for a small gathering. The game was about to start, but his usual company were clearly absent tonight.

“Just meeting a friend, Dad,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart in your chest. You wanted this to seem like any casual night out.

“Oh? With who?”

“Um, Jessica?” The name came out more like a question than an answer, and you saw his eyebrows furrow slightly at your hesitation. For a moment, you could see him contemplating whether to press you further, but then he just shrugged, his trust in you winning over his curiosity. Relief washed over you as he let it drop.

“Have fun, honey. Just let me know if you’re staying at Jessica’s for the night, OK?”

“Of course, Dad. I always do.”

You turned to leave but paused, guilt washing over you as you looked back at him surrounded by snacks meant for friends. “Will you be okay by yourself tonight?”

“Yeah, unfortunately, Steve had to stay home with Peggy because she’s sick. Marc forgot his anniversary with Layla and is making it up to her. Sam had to babysit AJ and Cass, and Bucky…” He trailed off with a shrug. “Not sure what he’s up to, just said he couldn’t make it tonight after all.”

Your heart skipped at hearing that last name—Bucky. Your dad’s best friend since college, and the man who had started to become the center of your thoughts. He was everything you shouldn’t want—older, so much older, your dad’s closest friend, completely off-limits—and yet he was everything you craved. What had started as an innocent crush had developed into something deeper.

Shaking away your dangerous thoughts, you focused back on your dad. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Don’t worry about your old man. Go and have fun, and say hi to Jessica for me.”

“Y-yeah, will do. Bye, Dad.” You waved quickly before heading out.

Pulling into the apartment complex, you sat in the car for a minute, your earlier excitement now mingling with butterflies in your stomach. The silence in your car felt heavy with anticipation.

Until now, what you shared with your date had been purely sex. You only shared casual conversation when others were around. But tonight felt different. Tonight would hopefully mark the beginning of something more intimate, more real.

Your heart fluttered at the thought. You knew you both wanted this deeper connection, but the way ahead wouldn’t be easy. A nagging voice in your head told you that he might come to the conclusion that you weren’t worth the difficulties of navigating a potential relationship—not worth fighting for.

“Ugh, just stop it,” you muttered to yourself, shaking away the doubts. “Just go up there and have a good time.

Tonight was about living in the moment—sharing good food, conversation, and hopefully, ending the night tangled in his sheets with mind-blowing sex and pleasure. The future could wait.

The elevator ride up gave you one last chance to check yourself in the reflection, making sure every detail was perfect. Your heart quickened with each floor that passed.

Finally reaching apartment 304, you hesitated for a moment, your fingers shaking slightly as you raised your hand to knock three times against the door.

The door opened, revealing your date, Bucky—your dad’s best friend since college, and now, for the past few weeks, your secret desire turned reality. The sight of him made your breath catch in your throat, his presence commanding your attention.

He filled the door frame with his broadness, a smirk playing on his lips as you got lost in him. The black button-down shirt he wore was open at the collar, giving a teasing glimpse of his chest hair, while a fitted navy blazer completed his devastating look.

Your eyes traced over his features. A few strands of his dark hair had escapade their slicked-back style and fell across his forehead. The salt and pepper sprinkled in his beard left countless memories burned into your skin. The thought of those made your knees weak. God, he was so beautiful.

Noticing your speechless state, he let out a deep chuckle. In one fluid motion, he pulled you inside, pressing you against the closed door. His hands found your waist, gentle but sure, as he leaned down until your lips were barely touching. The closeness made your head spin.

All your earlier doubts melted away in his presence. Whatever complications lay ahead in the future was forgotten about. This—the two of you together—felt right.

“Hi,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning across your face, carrying that intoxicating scent that left you lightheaded.

“Hi,” you managed to whisper back, your voice trembling slightly.

Unable to resist, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him down for a kiss you had been craving since the last time you saw him. What started as a sweet kiss quickly deepened as sparks danced across your skin.

Bucky took control, his grip tightening on your hips as he pulled you flush against him. His tongue swept across your bottom lip in a careful caress, allowing him to slip inside, making him draw a whimper from your throat. The scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin sent shivers down your spine, while the heat of his body and the intensity of the kiss left you dizzy with need, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks, humming at the rough texture under your palms.

“So, did you invite me over to your place just for sex?” You teased, trying to steady your racing heart.

He shook his head, his playful smirk returning. “I invited you because I like your company. I like listening to you talk, the sound of your voice. But my God, baby,” his voice dropped lower, “don’t blame a man that wants to listen to those pretty sound you make when I’ve got you coming apart on my tongue and cock.”

The explicit memories of him between your thighs had you clutching his hair tighter, needing something to ground you.

“So dinner isn’t the only thing you’re planning to eat tonight?”

“Hmm, don’t worry. I’ve made plenty for us to eat,” he assured, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lips as his dark eyes roamed over your dress-clad body. “But looking like this? So pretty and dolled up for me? Baby, you’re the sweetest fucking thing on the menu. And I’m definitely having a taste before the night ends.”

His words pulled a needy whine from you lips as you dragged him down for another deep kiss, nearly giving in to his promise. But your stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, and you buried your embarrassment in his chest.

Chuckling lovingly, he guided your flustered self towards the kitchen. “Come on, doll face. I can’t have you going hungry.”

You had been to Bucky’s apartment before during the gatherings he hosted for friends and family. But tonight was different—you were alone with him, and his home transformed.

His apartment revealed a more intimate side without the usual crowd. The warmth of his personality radiated in every corner—shelves lined with well-loved books, beautiful artwork, and mementos that told stories of his life.

The soft glow of candles danced across the walls, the oldies music floating through the air created a perfect romantic atmosphere. Your hand felt natural in his as he led you through the space that already felt like a second home.

“Wine?” He offered with a gentle smile.

“Uh, yes, please,” you replied, settling onto a bar stool at the kitchen island.

You couldn’t held but watch him with adoration as he moved with ease in his kitchen, retrieving glasses and wine from the fridge. The way his muscles flexed beneath the material as he worked the cork free had your mouth water. Everything this man did left you breathless.

“What should we toast to, doll?” He held up his glass, his eyes twinkling.

“To us,” you said, raising your own. “To good food and better company.”

“And to spending the evening with the most beautiful woman,” he added with a wink that sent heat to your cheeks.

The wine was rich and sweet on your tongue. You never minded wine, but it had never been your drink of choice. You took another sip, nodding appreciatively.

“I’ll be honest,” Bucky confessed. “I’m not much of a wine guy. I just thought it would be romantic for tonight.”

“What do you usually drink?”

“Whiskey. Nothing beats a quality whiskey…”

Your face lit up at that. Whiskey was your drink too, a love inherited by your dad who had taught you to appreciate its complexities. Funny how you never knew this about Bucky despite all the years you had known him. It was a small thing, but finding this common ground beyond your physical chemistry made your heart flutter.

“What about you?” He asked, noticing your smile.

“You can never go wrong with a quality whiskey,” you grinned.

“Is that right?” His eyes darkened deliciously. “Damn, doll. You should have mentioned that sooner.”

“Hmm, is that so?” You purred, leaning closer and resting your chin on your palm. The air crackled between you, thick with the promise of sex and pleasure, threatening to distract you both. You wanted nothing more than to climb into his lap and let him devour you in whatever way he wanted, but you knew that would derail his carefully planned evening.

Bucky seemed to be fighting the same battle, desire burned in his eyes as he forced himself back. He wanted you to know this was more than just sex. He treasured your company as much as your body.

“Let me introduce you to something special,” he said, voice husky. “My favorite whiskey. I think you’re gonna love it.”

Your pulse quickened at the thought of sharing this new experience with him. “Lead the way,” you said, abandoning your wine glass to follow him to his collection.

“How do you take it—ice or neat?”

“Neat,” you answered, earning an appreciation glance that made your skin tingle.

He poured a generous amount for both, and your raised your glasses.

“Cheers, doll.”

“Cheers,” you echoed, crystal clinking softly.

You raised it to your lips, and as you took a confident sip, the whiskey rolled over your tongue, warming your mouth with its spicy and robust notes, sliding down your throat with a satisfying burn. With closed eyes, you moaned softly, savoring the smoky and complex flavor that lingered on your tongue.

As Bucky took a sip, he kept his eyes intently on you, watching as you went through the sensations. The same ones cursed through his veins, heightened even more by the shared experience with you.

“Oh, that’s good,” you murmured with a slight hoarse to your throat. “What brand is it? It doesn’t taste like anything I’m familiar with.”

Bucky’s lips curled into a mischievous smirk, a playful tease in his tone. “I’m glad you like it, and no, I will not tell you yet. I’m enjoying this shared experience too much, and would like to keep it our ritual and secret for a while longer.”

You shook your head as the same expression crept up on your face. “Fine. But you’re a cruel man, Bucky Barnes.”

He chuckled, the sound deep as he leaned closer. “Come on. You must be starving. I know I am.” His words hung thick in the air, and it seemed to hold an entirely different meaning, charged with a dark and potent energy that left you breathless. The anticipation between you was still there, growing, brewing, and it would consume you both before the night came to an end.

“Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?” You questioned while you seated back on the chair as he moved with ease around the kitchen, tending to the oven and checking the fridge. Pausing to take occasional sips from his burning drink. Watching him in the comfort of his own home, relaxed and carefree, was a relief and joy. He seemed so at ease with you, and all thoughts about the immorality of your potential future appeared nonexistent.

“It’s OK, doll. You just sit there and look pretty for me,” he winked as his fingers grazed your chin lightly, and you accept his reply with a sip of your drink.

“So, what have you prepared for us this evening?”

“To be honest, doll, I’m not the best cook,” he admitted, a slight blush flushed his cheeks, “So I’ve made us pizza. I know it’s not the most glamorous of foods, but it’s one of the few things I know how to make.”

“Oh, I don’t mind pizza at all. I love pizza.” You reassured with a smile. “You can never go wrong with a good and tasty pizza,” you added with a knowing grin, which he reciprocated.

His grin widened into a broad, toothy smile as his head shook with amusement—a fond memory or thought had sprung to mind.

“What is it?” You questioned with intrigue.

He chuckled softly as the corner of his eyes crinkled. “I was just reminiscing on my college days,” he said with a hint of nostalgia in his tone. “I used to make pizza on Fridays after lectures, and your dad and our other roommates would devour it whole before I even got a chance for a slice myself.”

And there it was. The illusion of normality broken by the spoken word of your father.

Bucky hissed in a low sound as reality set for him, of the controversy of your relationship, and an uncomfortable knot formed in your stomach.

Was it really so wrong to desire a deeper and more meaningful connection with Bucky, your dad’s best friend?

All the thoughts and insecurities from earlier while sitting in your car resurfaced, haunting you. Was Bucky willing to take the risk and pursue something more meaningful than just a playful fling? Or would the challenges and risks not be worth it to him?

You knew your own answer in your heart. In spite of how unorthodox it all was, you wanted him, unapologetically, and with a strong determination to see it through with him. You were ready to face any obstacles in your way.

But what about Bucky? As you gazed back at him his expression was thoughtful yet tinged with a hint of panic. You knew he was grappling with the same fears and worries that plagued you. Would Bucky be willing to take the leap of faith with you? Would he be able to overcome the uncertainty and see the potential for something more between you and him?

The air was thick with tension now. The traces of desire lost as you each were deep in your own thoughts and contemplation. And then finally, Bucky spoke. His words hesitant yet filled with an underlying determination.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” he began, his voice low as he finally looked at you. “But I know that I want to try. I want to see where this could lead us, doll, despite the challenges and risks we may come across.” His eyes held nothing but the truth. “You are so worth it.”

Your heart swelled with hope and joy at his words, and you knew, in that moment, that you were both willing to make this work. You were in this together. With time and attention, your relationship had potential to grow into something beautiful.

“I feel the same way, Bucky,” you said with a smile, feeling confident and truthful.

After you both admitted your feelings, there was a hopeful silence in the room, laced with the returning desire brewing between you two.

Bucky broke the silence with a determined voice, eager to steer the conversation back to lighter topics. “But you know what I can make?” He began, eyes brightening with a hint of mischief. “A mean fucking cheesecake.”

Your face lit up with delight. “We’re having cheesecake!?” You exclaimed, your eyes sparkling with anticipation of something sweet.

“Trust me, doll,” Bucky replied, a confident smirk playing on his lips. “It’s the best one you’ll ever have.”

“It’s my favorite dessert,” you gushed, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

Bucky leaned in closer to you across the island, his eyes locking onto yours. With a tilt of your chin, he declared with all seriousness, “And you’re my favorite dessert. The tastiest and sweetest of them all.” His tongue grazed his bottom lip, eliciting a soft whimper from you, which only fueled Bucky’s desire.

You wanted to pounce on him again. To bend over the counter and let him taste and fuck you for the rest of the night—the dinner forgotten. But with a teasing smirk, as if knowing your thoughts, Bucky pulled away.

“Let’s eat before we get carried away. Before I get carried away, doll. Because you know I won’t stop when I finally have my hands and mouth on you.” He winked. “We’ll have plenty of time after dinner…”

Bucky had spared no effort in preparing the dining table for the occasion. Rose petals were strewed across the table surface, while flickering candles emitted a warm glow that created an intimate atmosphere in the dimly lit space. Placed in the center, was the steaming pizza—its savory aroma filled your senses with delicious anticipation of having a taste, your mouth practically watering.

As you enjoyed the pizza with Bucky, one of the most delicious ones you have ever tasted, the conversation effortlessly transitioned from racy to more mundane topics as you enjoyed getting to know each other better. What you and Bucky shared during intimate moments seemed to translate naturally to casual chitchat, making conversing with him feel natural. You were in perfect sync with each other, even outside the bedroom. You could easily get accustomed to this; Bucky, with all that he offered—body and soul, and a hell of a good time, both in casual and intimate times.

“Wow, Bucky, that pizza was incredible,” you moaned softly, dabbing the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

“Hmm, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Bucky murmured, his warm hand settling on top of yours on the table. Your eyes met and held for a long moment. The silence between you was heavy with unspoken words and feelings—emotions that were too raw and intense to voice just yet.

What you saw reflected in his eyes both thrilled and terrified you—pure adoration mixed with something deeper. When his lips curved into that devastatingly handsome smile of his, your whole body melted. You felt safe with him, secure in his presence. This felt right—his intense gaze on you, his touch igniting your skin. This was the kind of future you wanted.

“So, are you up for trying my cheesecake now, doll face?” You nodded, eager to taste his delicious creation.

He got up and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with two plates of cheesecake in hand. The cheesecake looked perfect, its creamy surface perfectly smooth and calling to you.

Your fork sliced through the cheesecake with ease, and as you brought the first bite to your lips, you couldn’t help but moan softly as your taste buds danced with delight. “Oh, this is really good Bucky. The texture is heavenly.”

You ate in silence this time, enjoying the quiet for a moment as you both savored the dessert. But as you got to your last piece of cheesecake, you kept your gaze on him. Your lips wrapped around the fork. An exaggerated moan escaped you as you let the final bite melt on your tongue. Bucky’s dark eyes followed your every movement, his breath hitching as your tongue darted out to swipe across your bottom lip. A low curse rumbled from deep in his chest. Feeling bold, you slid your foot up his clothed calf under the table, slowly inching higher until you felt his hardness. You were ready for a different kind of dessert now. One that Bucky and you had craved all evening and that would satisfy a deeper and more primal hunger.

“I’ve been holding back all evening, doll face,” he breathed, his voice deep and husky with need. “But fuck, I can’t control myself any longer. I need you right now.”

In a fluid and confident motion, he rose from his seat and pulled you up to meet him. His large hands gripped your waist possessively as his mouth claimed yours in a searing kiss. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging as the pent-up sexual tension that had been brewing all evening finally erupted between you.

He kissed you fiercely as if trying to brand himself into your very soul. His tongue traced your bottom lip, begging for entrance to deepen the kiss. As soon as you granted him access, he pulled you harder against his body, and you moaned into his passionate kisses as you felt his hardness press firmly against your figure.

“I need to taste you,” he panted against your lips, his voice thick with desire.

“But you are tasting me,” you teased with a knowing smirk, though you understood exactly what he meant.

He let out a dark chuckle that sent shivers down your spine. His mouth found your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that had you gasping. His skilled hand slipped underneath your dress, fingers trailing upward with torturous slowness until they reached their destination. When he finally cupped you through your soaked underwear, a possessive growl rumbled in his chest. His teeth grazed your earlobe as he whispered roughly, “You know exactly what I want to taste, doll. This sweet and perfect pussy of yours.” With one last devastating kiss that left you weak in the knees, he laced his fingers through yours and led you toward the sofa.

He captured your lips in a quick but searing kiss before his voice dropped to a commanding tone. “Sit down, hike up your dress, and spread those legs for me, baby.” You complied without hesitation, and his eyes darkened with raw hunger as you revealed your covered core. His gaze was intense, almost predatory with desire as he drank in the sight of you. The intensity of his stare made you feel exposed and vulnerable, and you instinctively started to close your legs. “Don’t you fucking dare, baby doll,” he growled, dropping to his knees before you. His strong hands gripped the back of your thighs, spreading you open once more as his heated gaze met yours. “Don’t ever shy away from me. You’re perfect. So goddamn beautiful that it fucking hurts.”

Despite having shared multiple intimate moments with Bucky before, tonight felt different with all the new revelations and voiced feelings. “I-I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Hey, look at me, doll,” Bucky’s voice was gentle, filled with understanding. “You never have to apologize to me, okay? We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to. We can cuddle or watch something if you want.”

“No,” you shook your head, cupping his face tenderly as you gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m OK. I just had a moment. I want you, Bucky. I need you so badly. Please,” you whimpered softly.

He pressed a sweet, tender kiss to your lips, and like flipping a switch, his demeanor shifted back to the possessive lover you craved.

“Tell me one more time what you need, baby. I want to hear those pretty words come from your lips,” he purred, his lips ghosting over your covered pussy. The sensation made your head scramble, leaving you struggling to form coherent words. Your fingers found their way into his hair, gripping the silky strands as your hips instinctively sought his contact. You were desperate for his mouth on your, craving his touch and kisses.

“Use your words, doll. I’m not touching you further until you tell me exactly what you need,” he teased, a smirk tugging on his lips. His warm breath ghosted over your sensitive skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

You drew in a shaky breath, your voice trembling with need. “I need your mouth on me, Bucky. I need your touch setting my skin on fire and your words making me weak. I just need you, Bucky, please.”

He hummed in satisfaction as he spread your legs wider, opening and exposing you fully to his hungry gaze. When he finally put his mouth on you, you lost it. His tongue licked a broad stripe up your covered pussy, his dark eyes locked with yours in an intense stare that made your breath catch.

“God, yes. Yes, just like that,” you gasped, your hips instinctively seeking more of him.

“Hmm, so needy, baby. So eager to get your pretty pussy eaten,” he chuckled against your skin, his scruff creating delicious friction against your sensitive skin as he placed teasing kisses around your heat.

“Bucky, please,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair. “If you don’t eat my pussy out soon I’m gonna lose my mind.”

He chuckled darkly, pressing one final kiss to your inner thigh before hooking his thumbs into your underwear. You lifted your hips eagerly as he slowly peeled them down your legs.

His eyes lit up with hunger as you were finally exposed to him. “Fuck, you’re dripping for me, baby.” Without hesitation, he dove between your thighs. His skilled tongue traced a slow, deliberate path along your wet pussy, moaning at your taste. Your breath hitched as he maintained intense eye contact, his broad tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. When he reached your aching clit, a deep moan vibrated against your sensitive core, making your eyes flutter shut in pure ecstasy.

He lavished your clit with open-mouthed kisses before pulling back slightly, his voice rough with desire. “Fuck, you taste like a dream, baby doll. The sweetest fucking taste that exists.” Bucky repeated this torturous pattern, savoring your taste with broad licks across your pussy followed by gentle sucks to your clit.

He took his time, his movements deliberately slow and teasing as he savored every inch of you on his tongue. Although he knew your body inside and out, he explored you as if it was the first time, alternating between kissing, licking, and sucking your pussy, trying to find the perfect combination that has your eyes roll, toes curl, and fingers tightening in his hair. Your hips instinctively moved against his face when he found that perfect rhythm that made your mind go blank with pleasure.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried as he captured your clit between his lips, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers teased your entrance before he slowly eased one into you, adding another layer to your pleasure.

He slowly thrust his finger in and out, exploring your pussy with care before adding another thick digit. Your walls stretched deliciously around him as he pushed both fingers knuckle-deep, drawing a cry from your lips at the fullness.

When he curled them just right, the tips stroking that perfect spot inside you, pleasure exploded behind your eyes, stars clouding your vision. His satisfied moans vibrated against you as he watched you start to fall apart, pride evident on his face at how perfectly you responded to his touch. The combination of his skilled fingers thrusting deep while his hot mouth worked your clit was devastating, building you towards an earth-shattering orgasm.

Your thighs trembled and clamped around his head. “That’s so good, Bucky,” you whimpered breathlessly, fingers tangling desperately in his dark strands as you rocked against his skilled mouth. His rhythm never broke as you chased your pleasure. “Oh god, that’s s-so fucking good. Please don’t stop. Don’t s-stop. I-I’m so close,” you cried out, teetering right on the edge of perfect bliss.

Bucky knew you were close. He could feel it in the way your pussy fluttered around his fingers and the way your thighs quivered against his face.

Your pleasure built higher and higher with each expert stroke of his tongue and curl of his fingers. Your body tensed, every nerve ending alive and burning in the most pleasurable way.

When he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked hard while pressing firmly against your sweet spot, the dam finally broke.

Your orgasm crashed through you in intense waves, your back arching as you cried out his name. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably around his head as he worked you through your high, his movement steady as he drew out your pleasure. “Oh god. You make me feel so good, Bucky,” you gasped between shaky breaths.

“Hmm, so fucking beautiful when you come for me, doll,” he growled against your sensitive flesh, his hot breath ghosted over your pussy and his stubble creating delicious friction against your skin sent shivers down your spine. “And you taste so good. Fuck, I can never get enough. I could feast on you for hours,” The hunger in his voice made it clear that Bucky was far from finished.

His strong hands gripped your thighs more firmly as he dove back in, his darkened eyes locked with yours in an intense gaze that made your breath catch. His devious tongue eagerly lapped up your release like you were the sweetest dessert he’d ever tasted. The overwhelming sensation had you gasping and writhing, but his strong arms held you firmly in place, keeping you spread open and completely at his mercy, unable to close your legs and escape the delicious torture of his tongue.

“B-Bucky, wait—” you panted, your body still shaking from the first orgasm. But he only responded with a deep, satisfied hum against your pussy, the vibrations making you see starts as he continued his mission to draw another climax from your trembling body.

Your fingers instinctively tightened in his dark locks as the familiar coil of pleasure began building once more. “You taste divine, doll. Like the sweetest of desserts. Fuck, you are my favorite thing to eat. I could spend hours just tasting you.” His sinful words pulled a desperate whimper from your lips as he resumed his delicious worship on your pussy.

When his fingers curled deep inside you again, hitting that perfect spot while his tongue worked magic on your clit, you knew you were done for. Your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first, making you arch off the sofa, toes curl, and cry out in pure ecstasy as waves of intense pleasure coursed through your body, setting your nerves alight.

Bucky continued his assault, devouring you with hunger, drinking in every drop of your release as if he were a man dying of thirst, only slowing his movements when your trembling body became too sensitive to take any more stimulation.

“Holy shit. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before,” you breathed out between giggles, fingers threaded through his now messy hair. His lips curved into a satisfied smile against your skin as he nuzzled your core one last time.

As your breathing slowly steadied, Bucky pressed tender kisses to your inner thighs, worshiping every inch of you, before moving up your body. When he finally reached your lips, he claimed them in a deep passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with desire but also filled with pure adoration.

“You’re incredible, doll,” he murmured, his thumb caressing your cheek with tenderness. “So fucking perfect for me.” His eyes held no lie as he gazed into your twinkling ones.

You hummed contentedly, still floating in a post-orgasmic bliss as you curled into his embrace, your body deliciously heavy from pleasure. His arms wrapped around you, and you felt his lips press a gentle kiss to your temple. Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his button-down, feeling the warmth of his chest beneath the material.

Drawing you impossibly closer against his chest, he whispered. “Stay with me tonight?”

“Nothing would make me happier, Bucky.”

Nestled in his strong embrace, you knew with absolutely certainty that this—this connection, this intimacy, this remarkable man—was everything you’d ever dreamed of and more. The depth of your feelings both thrilled and terrified you, but you knew without a doubt that you’d move heaven and earth to keep him in your life.

The peaceful moment was broken by his low, sensual growl against your neck. “The night’s still young, doll,” he murmured, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he traced open-mouthed kisses along your throat. “I’ve got plans to make you come on my cock at least two times before we call it a night.”

His words and promise ignited a fresh wave of arousal through your body, your empty pussy clenching in anticipation. You knew you were in for a night of pure pleasure and passion, and with Bucky, you couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people! I would really appreciate it 🖤

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sturniolohouse · 11 months ago

Text

That's Life - M.S

A.N: After the stream where Matt said he liked the name June– which has been a name on my baby list for YEARS now – I couldn't stop thinking about this scenario, so I decided to write it. Sorry if it's bad. (I'd also say they are still very young in this, maybe 23/24. But imagine any age you want, I don't really specify.) Hope you enjoy!

summary: dad!matt - a cute snippet of Matt and y/n becoming brand new parents and Chris and Nick meeting their niece for the first time. mainly fluff :')

warnings: none, really. maybe swearing and mentions of blood? (also use of y/n because apparently that is hated? idk)

word count: 2.4k

"Kid, hold her fucking neck." Matt panics as Chris readjusts in his seat on the couch.

"Matt shut the fuck up, I think I know how to hold my own niece." he retorts.

"No, you clearly don't you idiot."

I peer to my left, he holds her with one hand under her head and one hand under her butt, propping her in front of him on his lap. She's perfectly fine, Matt just worries.

"Look she's fine. She's with uncle Chris." Chris looks at her adoringly but Matt cautiously watches, biting his nails.

"How are you feeling?" Nick asks beside me, rubbing my shoulder as I eat my burger. I was starving and the first thing I wanted after giving birth was In and Out, so Matt made sure Nick and Chris brought it for me.

"I'm so tired but just relieved everything went okay."

It was a long labor, almost 20 hours and about an hour of pushing. I waited to the very last minute to get an epidural and Matt almost passed out once he saw what it actually was.

"That goes in your fucking spine?" He squeaks, his face turning pale as he nearly keels over.

I'm sat up with the anesthesiologist behind me prepping the needle. I grab Matt's forearms and bring him to stand between my legs so he's hunching in front of me before I collapse my head into his chest and groan.

"Don't fucking look at it, hold my hands." I seethe through the pain as I wait for the contraction to pass.

"I'm so sorry," He says into my ear as they stick the catheter into my spine and I stay as still as possible.

"I want In and Out after this is all over," I breath out, beginning to feel my lower half go numb.

"I'm getting you whatever you fucking want, sweetheart." He looks me dead in the eyes.

"It's kinda fucking nuts that she was just inside you, how the fuck did you like..." Chris speaks up looking between the baby and me. "Push her out..." He hesitates and I burst out laughing as Matt throws his arms up and shakes his head at him, stopping himself from knocking Chris' shoulder.

"Well, it wasn't easy." I wipe my tears from my eyes due to my laughter and Nick gives me my water so I don't choke on my dry ass fries.

"Women are the strongest people on the planet." Nick chimes and Matt smiles proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's fucking right. So much respect after all I witnessed." Matt rubs his eyes, seeming to be mentally reflecting the past 36 hours.

"She's so fucking cute, looks nothing like Matt." Chris comments, a small smirk growing on his face at the playful jab.

"Okay, give her back you're pissing me off." Matt quickly but gently takes her back even as Chris protests and pouts, sulking back into his chair.

"Lost your baby holding privileges," Nick points at him as Chris makes a face and sticks his tongue out, a throaty bellow echoing in the hospital room.

Nick immediately hushes him. "Can you not act like a barbarian? Fucking idiot." He scolds him.

Matt cradles her softly and my heart still melts at the sight of him holding her. It makes everything I went through so worth it. The both of them do.

I lay there in shock with a wailing baby placed on my chest. I look up at Matt on my left and he's got his hand over his mouth and tears brimming his eyes, staring at our baby with so much love.

My chest blooms with warmth and I look down at our daughter. Anyone else would look at her and think she was gross, being purple, covered in goop and blood, but she was quite literally breathtaking. Matt blubbers and bends down so he's more level to me.

"Oh my fucking god," he laughs through his emotion, wiping his eyes quickly and placing a hand on her blanketed back, her cries dying down.

"How the fuck did you do that? You're amazing oh my god." He rambles, kissing my sweaty hairline and I shake my head not really knowing how I did this either.

They let Matt cut the umbilical cord before taking her off me to bathe her quickly.

Matt grabs my face checking in on me. He scans all over my face,"You okay? You did so good, oh my fucking god." I nod quickly, feeling my adrenaline still rushing. It's a weird feeling to describe, but I am so happy.

"She was so tiny, did you see her?" I ask him, my voice a little shaky and he nods laughing, tears still shining in his eyes.

"I did, I did. She's perfect. Thank you." He kisses my lips this time and then looks over to the nurses bringing her over to him.

"You want to hold her, dad?" The nurse smiles and he visibly pales but nods nonetheless and takes her into his arms.

He looks at her and begins to tear up again, having to compose himself by looking up shaking his head. When he looks back at me, I'm sent me over the edge into my own fit of tears.

I would relive this day over and over again to just see that look on his face.

He walks over to Nick who's still beside me, bouncing her slightly.

"Nick, cmon. You've yet to hold her." Matt nods toward Nick to take her from his arms. Nick immediately shakes his head and steps back.

"No she's too fresh and tiny. I don't want to break her." He declines.

"Chris get him the pillow. Nick, hold her. You won't break her I promise you." I give him a reassuring rub on the arm and his eyes widen.

"I'm scared," He squeals quietly as he sits down in the chair and Chris sets up the pillow in his lap. Nick covers his mouth as he watches Matt walk over to him.

Chris puts a hand on his shoulder, "Nick it's gonna be fine." He giggles at his antics and I stifle my own laughter.

"Dude c'mon, I'm telling you to hold my kid not a bomb." Matt rolls his eyes and Nick flips him off.

Matt places her carefully so she's snug in Nick's arms and he freezes immediately.

"What do I do?" He looks up at me in fear.

"Just that. You're doing fine. See, she's perfectly content in your arms." I tell him softly and grab Matt's arm so he stands next to me.

I kiss his forearm and he looks back at me with a warm smile, wrapping his arm around me and sitting beside me on the bed. He pulls me in gently before kissing the top of my head.

"I'm trying to see any real defining features in her but she quite literally just looks like a baby," he studies her face as Chris takes photos of them.

"She definitely looks more like y/n," Matt says, rubbing my arm lightly before stealing one of my fries from my tray.

"I think she has my nose for sure. She hasn't really opened her eyes yet, maybe you can try and wake her up. The nurse should be coming soon to help me feed her."

"I just realized, what's her name?" Nick asks, lightly rubbing her cheek with the back of his finger to try and wake her.

"Yeah, have you guys finally decided?" Chris sits down next to Nick on the couch.

Matt and I look at each other. We had been debating her name since we first saw her face. Of course we had a list prepared but we didn't want to settle on a name until we could match it to her face.

It was hard agreeing on names at first as we had very different tastes but there was one that kept coming back up in conversation and once we saw her it was a no brainer.

I nudge Matt, "Go ahead, tell them." I lean my head against his shoulder.

"Her name is June," They 'aw' in unison.

"June Iris Sturniolo." Matt tells them her full name and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face.

"I love that, such a sweet name.” Nick smiles down at her.

"Does it have a meaning? Or did you guys just like the name?" Chris pulls back her hat.

"Holy shit, she has a lot of hair." he comments.

"Explains all of my heartburn." I huff and Matt giggles beside me.

"We liked the name and we were looking at lot of nature names, month names, classic names. We landed on June a few times when going over names but didn't want to make it official until we saw her." I start and Matt nods before speaking up.

"Well, we had some music playing during the whole labor and everything but after Y/N started pushing, our playlist ended and started playing whatever. And right before June came out, the song That's Life by Frank Sinatra played. And in the song, there's a line that goes: You're riding high in April, shot down in May but I know I'm gonna change that tune when I'm back on top, back on top in June. Right when we heard that and then we saw her face, we knew that was her name." Matt concluded and I tear up.

"That's so fucking cool,"

"Stop I have chills, oh my god."

"And Iris was my grandmothers name, but we also liked how it sounded with June. It was proven really hard to find a middle name that sounded good with June and Sturniolo." I laugh.

“I love that her name has a cool story behind it that you can tell her one day.” Nick says and I get emotional thinking about telling my daughter the day of her birth.

"Hi June, you gonna wake up for us?" Chris speaks softly to her. She stays put as Nick and Chris look at her expectantly.

"I wouldn't want to open my eyes either if I were just in a a warm dark place for almost nine months and all of sudden I'm in a bright ass hospital room with a loud idiot." Matt speaks looking directly at Chris.

"She must take that after you," I say playfully and rub his chest. He rolls his eyes.

"Aw, a little Mattitude." Chris uses a baby voice, tickling her belly playfully. “Look she even makes Matt’s stank face he does when he’s mad.” He points.

“Oh my god she does,” Nick exclaims.

"Not to be weird, but you are all basically her father since you have identical DNA. Also if you guys have children one day, they'll be genetically June's half-siblings." I state my fun fact and all their faces drop.

Nick gasps, "Wait, that's actually crazy because I was just going to joke around and say 'aw she has my eye-bags'." His eyes widen and I shrug at him proving my point.

"That's so fucking weird." Matt shakes his head in realization.

Chris acts repulsed, putting a hand up. "Yeah, I don't like thinking about that. I'm no one's father, thank God." He does the sign of the cross.

"Yes. Thank God for that." Matt says shortly.

"I don't know, I think Chris will be a good dad one day." I defend him and Matt gives the side eye.

"Thank you y/n," He says with a hand over his heart.

He walks over to me and gives me a side hug. I kiss his cheek, offering him a fry and he takes it appreciatively.

"I'm definitely staying the fun uncle." Nick states, turning his attention back to June. "One day, you'll be big enough to stay at Uncle Nick's and I'll get you anything you want without your parents knowing," he says quietly to her but we can all still hear him.

She begins to stir in his arms and he freezes again.

"Oh no, she's waking up. Is she gonna cry?" he panics. "Matt quick, take her."

"She might want the boob," he says taking June out of Nick's hold.

She begins to fuss and squirm but Matt calmly shushes her and begins to bounce lightly.

"It's her feeding time in 15 minutes, should I try without the nurse?" I look up at Matt and he shrugs.

"I don't see why not. She's clearly hungry now."

"Uh, should we leave?" Chris says awkwardly and I wave him off.

"I'm gonna cover myself don't worry. Unless you want to leave," I say nonchalantly, not having a care in the world after just about everyone in this hospital has seen me naked. But of course I won't be flashing anyone.

"Junie don't cry, here's mama. She's got the food." Matt tells her quietly, bringing her to me as Chris clears my lap for me and goes to sit down next to Nick again.

"My baby," I pout as I grab her and her little cries die down once she's in my arms. "You already know the deal sister, let's see if we can do this." I talk to her confidently hoping I can do this on my own.

Matt stands beside helping me cover up and get June in the right position.

"There you go, all better." Matt speaks to her softly as she latches on and I exhale in relief. "Good job, mama." He runs his fingers through my hair and rubs my neck.

The nurse walks in mid-feed and praises me. "Looks like you've got it under control here." She smiles and checks my vitals quickly before stepping back out of the room.

Once June finishes eating I burp her upright on my lap, facing her towards everyone. At this point she's wide awake and everyone is staring at her.

"Oh my gosh, her eyes are like, gray," Nick says.

"Can she see me?" Chris waves at her, shaking his head and sticking his tongue out.

"Her eyes will most likely change color, they can change up until she's a year." I tell them. "And she can probably see you as a blob, Chris. Stop dancing." I tell him and he stops mid griddy.

"Oh..." He looks defeated and she burps loudly in that moment, making him laugh. "Why does she burp louder than me, she's like 12 hours old." he jokes.

I feel Matt's hand on my shoulder again and he gives me another squeeze. I look up at him and smile tiredly, he leans down to give me a kiss. Something we rarely do in front of others because we hate PDA. But we can't help it this time.

I hear a snap of a camera and we both look to see Nick with his film camera.

"I couldn't resist. First family portrait." he smiles softly. "I can't believe you're a father, Matthew."

"Believe it, kid."

"Nick, will you actually take our family photos when we get home." I ask rubbing Junie's back.

"The fact that you even asked that," he says looking offended and everyone laughs. "Of course I will, though."

#sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #dad!matt #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolohouse

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