#or what he's doing is indeed a horror
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silusvesuius · 7 months ago
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n*loth is literally a demon i mean iHold on YAAASSSSS!
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i mean it 😒😒😒
#text#nlvs very universal love story i believe from n*loth POV it can be read as a normal romance if you ignore all the concerning shit he's -#- thinking. but from t*lvas POV and 3rd person it's an actual horror story (deserve)#but tbh not even t*lvas is as scared as the 3rd party witnessing all of it happen . if there was a 3rd parttyyy. omg. so sad#anyways enough about them..... i wanted to talk about drawing ✍#i think traditional art has a lot of power to kick you to improving especially if you're trying it for the first time after a really long -#- while (Meee) and it doesn't feel as 'consumeristic' as digital art feels to me#cus anytime i sit down to draw something digitally 9 times outta 10 i'll just be trying to out-do myself in the way i execute an idea#in terms of colors or composition or anything i can do#such a tryharddd iUUugh but in traditional i turn my brain off and live the same life and share a brain with my pencil. and nothing feels -#- boring. or like 'i already drew this 😑' i'll just be chilling#but @ the same time it might stunt me because of it's comfortability#i mean idc but still i can get better in many ways && i want tu ......#to Be honest it feels like i can only do 'Cool' ideas digitally and traditional is for stuff that is 'easier'#but it is indeed freeing#i love u-god bbbbbbbbb#i mean not like i do art studies a lot cus i don't think it's something i need at this very moment i'm happy with where my art is#but @ heart i will always! Always be a tryhard#like look at what i can doo (speaking to mirror)#my nelothian narcissism ......? Huh#i love adding -ian to pairings and names now
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tojiscrack · 13 days ago
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I think malakai's favorite pokemon would be zoroark. Or umbreon. There are other "edgy pokemon" but they might be too colourful for him 😭 Him and Absol are kind of twinning with the bangs though
oh absolutely 💀
now i have a scene in mind where someone tells him he lowkey resembles absol ‘cause of his hairstyle, and then him tweaking out ‘cause absol is literally white 😭
‘there are other edgy pokemon but they might be too colourful for him’ — HAHAHA ABSOLUTELY 😭 YOU GOT HIS CHARACTER DOWN TO A T LMAOOO
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mariocki · 2 months ago
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Shadows of Fear: Repent at Leisure (1.5, Thames, 1971)
"Poor Robert. Do you remember what the doctor said? He'd never seen such an advanced cirrhosis in someone so young. He had a liver like a Strasbourg goose."
"Occupational hazard."
"How'd you think that made me feel? It isn't very flattering for a wife to play second fiddle to a wine list."
"I'm sure it was no reflection on you."
"All the same. I hardly changed the pattern of his life, did I?"
"No... but you're asking Harry to make fantastic adjustments. From galley to, uh, captain's table."
"You're a terrible snob, Peter."
"Oh, I am. So are you, my pet. That's what frightens me."
#shadows of fear#repent at leisure#single play#horror tv#classic tv#1971#kim mills#roger marshall#elizabeth sellars#george sewell#alethea charlton#peter cellier#series producer Mills takes directing duties and would helm the lion's share of the series from this point on; shades of trouble behind the#scenes? or another budget constraint? pure guesswork of course; as i said in an earlier set of tags‚ there's precious little info out there#about the production of this series. writer Marshall would have known Mills well from their time together on Public Eye (an ongoing#collaboration in fact). Marshall had written the first episode of this series (or pilot as it probably was) and that's the episode this#most closely resembles; it's less consciously 'horror' telly than the previous few and much more in the way of social suspense#it also seems a little stretched thin‚ again like the pilot: the plot is an old ham‚ a wealthy widow marries a steward from a cruise ship#and the scene is set for class based conflict and the whiff of a plan to do away with the lady and inherit a fortune... so far so blah#BUT i will say this one actually has a fairly excellent twist; a twist on a twist perhaps‚ or an Untwist. you see (SPOILER) George Sewell's#working class husband is actually... exactly who he says he is. and the murder plot in Liz Sellars' mind is‚ indeed‚ just in her mind.#unpacking this hoary old plot in a realist manner (but still with the called for suspense) is a smart move‚ but particularly impressive is#the explanation Marshall gives for Sewell's mysterious behaviour: his sister is in an interracial marriage and he suspects that the upper#class Sellars is probably a racist who'd react badly. i haven't time to fully unspool that (why marry her‚ is the obvious question) but i#do think it's a scripting masterstroke: it instantly reconfigures our sympathies towards the characters‚ makes Liz not just foolish (for#suspecting a murder plot) but an unsympathetic antagonist. in a few lines in one scene we suddenly see both her and Sewell in completely#different lights‚ and our allegiances are instantly changed. from that point on the horror is not what might happen to her because of his#'evil'‚ but what might happen to him because of her ignorance and neuroses. it's clever! and makes for a play that's much more satisfying#in its second half
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the-busy-ghost · 9 months ago
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Warning- this is a very petty post, but I think I'm entitled to at least one petty, pissed-off reaction every time I finish a classic novel that hit harder than I expected so take this as my quota for the year.
Also spoiler warning for a book that came out over a century ago but still, I didn't know the plot going in so don't want to ruin it for anyone else, if you haven't read it shut your eyes. (Also Local Tumblr User Going Wild Over Book Published a Hundred Years Ago That Everybody Else Already Read should probably be categorised as akey part of indigenous tumblr culture at this point).
Anyway I just finished the War of the Worlds and in between studying I've thinking about Themes and Motifs as you do, and idly looking for further analysis. I then accidentally ran into an article called 'A Quiet Place II Succeeds Where the War of the Worlds Failed' and:
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Now I haven't seen any of the Quiet Place films, this is not a rant against them and of course everyone is entitled to their own opinions. But re: the ending of The War of the Worlds, I have to ask, did this guy somehow miss, uh, the entire point of the book or am I just utterly insane?
#You're right it's not very satisfying for humanity that the invaders are foiled by a bacteria and not human action! Maybe that's the point!#Maybe it's supposed to be FRIGHTENING and make you ask questions about what humans will do under extreme stress#Not be a morally uplifting tale about Humanity Heroically Defeating the Martians in a Glorious Hollywood Ending#Maybe it's MEANT to be unsatisfying because this is not a straightforward fairytale#I mean I've only read it once and don't know much about Wells' work so I might have misunderstood the point of the book too#But at places it is a very pessimistic view of the human condition and that's partly WHY IT'S SO POWERFUL#That doesn't mean there aren't moments of individual acts of heroism (the Thunderchild for example)#But the question is not just 'how will humanity beat the Martians and prove that we're still the masters of the universe'#Rather 'a) why is humanity so confident that it's ultimately in control of its own destiny#And b) here's lots of scenes of societal collapse and of people pushed to the brink and what would YOU do in those circumstances?#Would YOU feel remorse about silencing the curate even if it did lead to his death?#What if it rather than a foolish adult it had been a small child?#And even if they were weak did they DESERVE it? Yes it might have been necessary but should it be policy going forward?#Would you also be attracted briefly by the certainties that the artilleryman's (rather fascist) plan seems to offer so humanity survives?#But what sort of humanity would that be if it DID survive and is it worth it? The narrator feels he needs to justify the curate's death#The artilleryman would have probably never have thought it was anything OTHER than justifiable or indeed laudable#Under strain and stress would you start to turn against even your loved ones and become brutal?#Is that the only hope for human survival beyond complete surrender? And was the destruction of London maybe even 'cleansing'#In the eugenics sense or in the sense of a natural horror of dirt and germs?#And the vast exodus of six million people fleeing headlong in panic - we might not have seen that exact phenomenon#But didn't the twentieth century subsequently go on to show us unprecedented scale of slaughter and refugee movements and communal strife?#At the end of the day what really separates humanity from other animals? And what separates us from the Martians?#It's not an uncontroversial book- it was written over a hundred years ago for goodness sake and there are questions worth asking#about the way imperialism and arguments about eugenics and population control and all sorts of other dodgy areas operated on Wells' mind#But dear God I really don't think the problem with the book is that 'Humanity didn't save the day!'#Unsatisfying ending? Yes. A FAILURE? No not in my opinion- looks like it was exactly what Wells set out to do#Humanity didn't win the war of the worlds they had a narrow escape and though it might not be martians next time#Why wouldn't disaster return in the future? Sure we've studied their flying machines and even preserved a martian in a jar#But for all our science what have we ACTUALLY learned that will enable us to avert future human catastrophes? Ethically or socially?#Alright rant over- as usual my opinion is not universal nor necessarily well-informed this take just really got my goat
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simcardiac-arrested · 1 year ago
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was the social media site vk because h. hi I roleplayed warrior cats on vk when I was like 9🤝
oh no it was way worse than vk. it was ok (odnoklassniki)👍
#i’ve never used vk#well. okay. i have used it exactly Once sometime when i was 10#to not only impersonate a popular emo dog artist. but to also pretend to be my friend’s boyfriend so that she could piss off her ex or#something like that. i dont even remember if that worked but i know that i did reveal it to be Not True at one point#and me and the guy had a nice conversation#and then i never used vk again because. well. ihave no reason to use it first of all. second of all i hate that place and i would rather be#crucified than forced to interact with strictly russian communities#but anyway you would think that’s the end of the story. HOWEVER like a month or two ago my friend messaged me like#‘hey do you use vk?’ and i was like. No. You know i dont. and he was like ‘hmm. ok. well that explains why you haven’t been responding to my#memes since september’ and i went WHAT? <- guy who completely forgot he still had his vk account#so i logged back in and to my horror. the account did indeed still exist. it was all there the fake bio the impersonation the drawings that#weren’t mine. it felt like i found a corpse under the floorboards of my attic#so anyway i wasted no time in deactivating the account. so all ends well that ends well#i think#cramswering#but yeah anon we are shaking hands in solidarity because i also roleplayed cat oc family on odnoklassniki among with lion king oc family#it wasn’t wc just cat characters that were. emo. and awfully designed#damn i sure liked my emo cats and emo dogs
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batboyblog · 9 days ago
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Copy Right and Public Domain in 2025!
It's January 1st 2025 which means it's my favorite unsung holiday! Public Domain Day! This is the day once a year when, in the US, copyrights expire and things enter the public domain, meaning they belong to everyone! even you, Steve!
American copyright for books, movies, art work, and musical compositions (but not recordings, more on that later) runs for 95 years (way too long!) so today works published in 1929 join us in the public domain.
So whats free? so glad you asked.
Popeye the Sailor Man
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Many people assume Popeye originated as a cartoon character but thats not true, he comes from a comic strip. The strip was called Thimble Theatre and Popeye was something of a late addition. Thimble Theatre was first published in 1919, so Popeye's girlfriend Olive Oyl has been in the public domain since before the big 20 year copyright freeze of 1998-2019. Popeye first appeared as a minor character 10 years into the strip's run but was so popular he soon took over and the strip would be renamed Popeye less than 5 years later. Now as always whats public is only what appears in 1929, later developments, remain copyrighted. Such as, while Popeye always had super strength its not till 1932 his superpowers were tied to eating spinach, and Olive Oyl originally had a different boyfriend named Ham Gravy, who she dumped for Popeye when he became the main character. It looks like Popeye is following tradition for famous now public domain characters and getting a quicky horror movie this year.
Tintin!
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This is personally very exciting as someone who grew up with the Belgian boy detective. Like Popeye I expect a lot of people don't know that Tintin started off as a weekly comic strip. Indeed Tintin appeared as a part of a weekly youth supplement in the Catholic newspaper The Twentieth Century. Any ways, Tintin was first published in there in January 1929, and soon would start what would become the first Tintin story, Tintin in the Land of the Soviets. Now only part of Tintin in the Land of the Soviets was published in 1929, the story line wrapped up in May 1930, so only those 1929 stories and what appears in them is free and clear and Tintin was published in black and white not color. Tintin's author Hergé had no idea what he was doing and was really learning on the job so In The Land of the Soviets is generally seen as his weakest outing and the only one he never opted to redraw in later years. Even so it's nice to see the character free in the world. No word on if Tintin will star in a horror movie.
Buck Rogers (but not really)
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The original futuristic space man was published, again a comic strip, in 1929 which means he should enter the public domain today, but he won't. That's because he already is public domain! Before the Copyright Act of 1976 copyright was 28 years with the option to renew for another 28 years. The copyright on the original comic strips was not renewed so ran out at the end of 28 years, 1958. So Buck Rogers has been free and clear for close to 70 years now, whatever you hear about him today.
What else?
Famously last year Mickey Mouse entered the public domain, but all the entered public domain was one (maybe two) animated short, Steamboat Willie. Well this year a dozen Mickey Mouse animated shorts enter the public domain, including the first time Mickey has his iconic white gloves, and the first time Mickey speaks (the first thing Mickey Mouse ever says, voiced by Walt Disney himself, is "Hot dogs! Hot dogs!" in case you were wondering) This will give creators much more to work with if they want to use Mickey in their works which is exciting.
Speaking of Walt Disney, The Skeleton Dance is entering public domain, you likely don't know the title but I suspect you've seen at least part of it at some point
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so look for this showing up on TVs in the backgrounds of films and TV shows in the next year or so
Books
The iconic novels of World War I, Ernest Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms and Erich Maria Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front enter public domain. In fact All Quiet on the Western Front entered public domain last year, but only in the original German, the 1929 translation by Arthur Wesley Wheen is whats entered the public domain now. John Steinbeck's first novel, Cup of Gold, William Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury, Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own, and Agatha Christie's Seven Dials Mystery (always get an Agatha Christie novel on this list for the rest of our lives). Dashiell Hammett published both Red Harvest and The Maltese Falcon, later made into one of the greatest films of all time, in 1929. Future children's book author E. B. White (who's go on to write Charlotte's Web and Stuart Little) and future New Yorker cartoonist and humorist James Thurber teamed up to write the delightfully titled Is Sex Necessary? Or, Why You Feel the Way You Do a book of spoof essays making fun of popular books on Freudian sexual theories at the time. The Roman Hat Mystery the first of the long running Ellery Queen mysteries was published, Queen would keep publishing mysteries into the 1970s (and Ellery Queen was a pen name for two people). Richard Hughes' A High Wind in Jamaica and Oliver La Farge's Laughing Boy also came out in 1929 and are in the public domain now. There's much else but those are the highlights sorry if I missed your favorite 1929 novel.
Movies
Alfred Hitchcock and Cecil B. DeMille's first movies with sound, Blackmail and Dynamite respectively, came out in 1929. Marx Brothers' first feature film The Cocoanuts joins the public domain. Other comedy land marks are Harold Lloyd's first sound film, Welcome Danger and Buster Keaton's last silent film, Spite Marriage (which Keaton also directed). John Ford's first sound film, The Black Watch, which also is 21 year old John Wayne's first appearance in a film, as an uncredited extra, he worked in the art department. Hallelujah the first studio film to have an all black cast came out that year. Also worth noting is The Hollywood Revue of 1929 a singing and dancing review, one of the earliest and the movie that popularized the song Singin’ in the Rain, maybe the first time a movie made a song a hit.
Musical compositions
musical compositions, ie the lyrics and musical notations you might see on sheet music are governed by the 1976 Copyright Act, and music written in 1929 is public domain. Music recordings are governed by a whole different law (we'll get there). Songs written in 1929 include Singin’ in the Rain by Arthur Freed & Nacio Herb Brown, Ain’t Misbehavin’ and Black and Blue by the legendary Fats Waller, What Is This Thing Called Love? by Cole Porter, Tiptoe Through the Tulips by Alfred Dubin, You Were Meant for Me by Arthur Freed & Nacio Herb Brown, and also Happy Days Are Here Again by Jack Yellen which would become FDR's campaign theme song in 1932.
Art!
a number of pieces by Salvador Dalí including:
Illumined Pleasures
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The Accommodations of Desire
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The Great Masturbator
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are entering the public domain as is René Magritte’s The Treachery of Images.
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Art is hard because while movies and books are clearly "published" and put on sale, what counts as "published" for a piece of art? the law is not totally sure.
Musical Recordings
as I promised, we got here. Till 2017 there were no federal laws governing the copyright of music recordings before the 1970s, it was governed by a confusing patchwork of state laws and it was not totally clear what was or was not free and clear even from the very earliest recordings ever. Now the term of a music recording's copyright is set at 100 years (way too long) so music recorded in 1924 is now public domain such as. Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen by Marian Anderson, Everybody Loves My Baby (But My Baby Don’t Love Nobody But Me) by Louis Armstrong, California Here I Come by Al Jolson, Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin, Shreveport Stomp by Jelly Roll Morton, Mama’s Gone, Good Bye by Ray Miller, and It Had To Be You by Marion Harris. Now many recordings a lot less famous can finally be preserved and digitized to save them for the next 100 years. Many abandoned works are literally rotting away since without the copyright holder's permission digitizing a work isn't legal.
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harrysfolklore · 7 months ago
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oscar piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation
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MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | oscar smau
Oscar Piastri was known as the introvert and reserved driver on the grid.
While other drivers basked in the spotlight and didn't shy away from sharing details about their personal life, Oscar often preferred to keep his privacy.
However, when it came to his girlfriend, it was a different story altogether.
Oscar was what people called "a total simp" when it came to his girlfriend, always bringing her up in interviews, promo videos and casual conversations, and fans couldn't miss the opportunity to make several compilation videos and tiktoks about it.
The most popular one was called "Oscar Piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation" and the 15-minute long video was filled with moments that made fans both awe and laugh.
It started with the clip of the first time he publicly talked about her during a podcast interview, rumors about him not being single were spreading around but nothing was confirmed.
"I do have a girlfriend, yeah," Oscar said, a small smile playing on his face.
"You're not very public, aren't you?" the interviewer asked.
“We keep it to ourselves and try to be out of the spotlight and just live normal lives,” he replied, “We have been dating for over four years now, she has been there for me since the start of my career and I couldn't imagine my life without her. She's my biggest supporter and keeps me grounded.”
The next video showed Oscar and Lando sitting next to each other wearing their McLaren shirts, filming a game called "Green flag or Red flag."
"Picky eaters," the interviewer asked and Lando immediately waved the green flag.
"He's a very picky eater that's why," Oscar said, making Lando laugh, "But, what if they eat fish, cause you hate fish."
Lando dramatically raised the red flag, making everybody laugh again.
"You wouldn't date a pescatarian then," the interviewer said.
"No," Lando shook his head, "They shouldn't be here."
"My girlfriend's a pescatarian, actually," Oscar said, looking at his teammate with a raised eyebrow, "I'll pass that on to her.”
"Noooo mate!" Lando immediately shook his head, waving his hands in mock horror, "Don't tell her I said that, I don't want to be in trouble with your missus! She's a lovely girl."
"She is indeed, but I don't think she'll like you very much after this."
The next segment was from his "Day in the Life" video with Quad Lock, where Oscar gave fans a glimpse into his daily routine. In one particular clip, he was in the kitchen making breakfast.
"So, this is where the magic happens," Oscar said with a cheeky grin as he poured pancake batter onto a hot griddle, "My girlfriend loves pancakes, so I make them every Sunday. It's become sort of a tradition for us."
The camera then panned to a candid shot of his girlfriend, who was sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee and smiling fondly at Oscar. She blew him a kiss, which Oscar caught with a playful wink.
"There she is, sitting pretty while I play housewife."
The next clip in the compilation was from a press conference, where a journalist asked him how he manages to stay focused with such a demanding schedule.
"Having a supportive partner really helps," Oscar said earnestly, "She understands the pressures and the demands of the job. She’s my rock and makes everything a lot easier."
"Does it get hard for her when your schedule is too busy for your relationship?"
"My schedule is never too busy for my girlfriend, I always make sure to make time for her. That's why we've been going strong for four years now."
Another McLaren game with Lando was included, this time they were playing Finish the Lyric with Taylor Swift songs.
"Do you feel confident about this game, Oscar?" Lando asked his teammate.
"I do, actually," Oscar nodded confidently, "My girlfriend is a huge Taylor Swift fan so I know a lot of her songs."
"We should get your girl to come and play then," Lando teased.
"She'd probably beat us both, hands down. But I'm not giving up just yet." Oscar chuckled, shaking his head.
The compilation video then transitioned to a moment in the McLaren garage before the first quali of the Hungary Grand Prix. Oscar was off to the side, chatting with his girlfriend, who had joined him for the event.
They seemed to be in their own little bubble, Oscar's attention completely focused on her and his smile wide as he listened to her talk. The camera captured a sweet moment where he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about their relationship and fans absolutely melted at the interaction.
The next clip showed Oscar at a fan event in Australia, hundreds of fans gathered to meet the drivers and see them up close, Oscar was answering questions from the interviewers when he suddenly addressed one of the fans in the front row.
"I've got a girlfriend, thank you," he said into the microphone, making everyone laugh but look confused at the same time, "For everyone wondering, she just asked what my number was," the crowd laughed again even louder, "But I'm a happily taken man. You're nice but I'm not interested."
In that same event, he got asked what did he miss the most from the UK when he was back in Australia.
"My girlfriend," he immediately said, "Other than that the food is better here, the weather is better here. So my girlfriend, that's it."
The following video was also a fan interaction, this time it was a fan recorded video while he was signing stuff for those waiting for him as he arrived to the paddock for the Austin Grand Prix.
Oscar was signing autographs and taking pictures, when a fan handed him a photo of him and his girlfriend from a race weekend.
"Oh, this is a great picture," Oscar said, grinning as he looked at the photo. "This was taken at Silverstone, right? It was her first time at a race with me. She loved it."
"What's her favorite part about the races?" The fan smiled and asked.
"Probably the adrenaline and seeing me in action," Oscar chuckled, "But she also loves hanging out in the paddock. She gets along really well with everyone here."
The next clip showcased Oscar during a Twitch stream, where he was playing a racing simulator. His girlfriend walked into the room, and the chat exploded with excitement.
"Hey, love," Oscar greeted her, pausing the game.
"Am I interrupting you?" she softly asked.
"Nope, come here," he encouraged to come closer, "Everyone, this is my girlfriend," she waved at the camera, and Oscar wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into the frame. "She's the reason I'm still sane," he joked, earning a kiss on the cheek from her.
The video included one of everyone's favorite interactions between the couple, captured by McLaren's instagram team.
Oscar had just finished a quiali, earning a P2 position, the camera caught as he reunited with his girlfriend who threw her arms around his neck as soon as she saw him.
"Hiii," he shyly said, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.
"You did such a great job, baby," she said, still wrapped around his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.
"I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on," he replied, his voice soft and genuine.
The final clip was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Oscar stood on the stage, dressed in a sharp suit, the Rookie of the Year trophy shining in his hands.
"First of all, I want to thank my team, McLaren, for believing in me and giving me the opportunity," Oscar began, his voice steady but emotional, "But most importantly, I want to thank my girlfriend. She's been my rock through it all, supporting me every step of the way. This award is as much hers as it is mine."
The camera panned to his girlfriend, sitting in the audience with tears in her eyes, smiling proudly. The fans watching the livestream couldn't help but gush over the touching moment.
As the compilation ended, the screen faded to black with the text, "Oscar Piastri: The Ultimate Simp, and Proud of It."
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whisperofwonder · 4 months ago
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Comfortable
Uncomfortable domestic moments when you realize just how comfortable you are together, and how much he really cares about you
I just really love domesticity, okay? Even when it isn't pretty.
Featuring: Kuroo Tetsurou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Miya Atsumu x reader
(a few potential triggers here, sorry!) TW: vomit / vomiting in Kuroo's ; blood/period in Ushijima's, then you'll have Atsumu's which is really just light and kind of goofy oops
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KUROO TETSUROU
"Ugh," You moan as you reach to flush the toilet. You get to your feet and turn to find Tetsurou still hovering behind you. You grimace thinking about how he'd held your hair back just moments ago, as you released the entire contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl.
He hands you a cup of water. "How are you feeling?" He asks as you rinse out your mouth - it's a silly question, all things considered, but you don't exactly have a snarky answer at hand.
"I'm sorry," You blurt instead, not quite sure how he can be looking at you with that almost tender expression on his face after witnessing that.
"Why are you apologizing?" He asks softly, reaching to unstick a sweaty strand of hair from your face.
"Because, it's so gross. You didn't have to come in here," You insist. "I'm an adult, and - you really shouldn't have to see that." You purposefully avoid glancing in the mirror. You don't even want to know what you must look like right now.
"But I don't want you to feel gross alone," He says as if it's simple. You open your mouth, searching for some kind of retort, but nothing comes. "I know you can take care of yourself, but you shouldn't have to," He continues. "Not when I'm right here."
It's so surprisingly sweet that you feel your face start to crumple. "Tetsu," You squeak out.
"Shh," He shushes you, "Just tell me what I can do. Do you need anything?"
"I just want to go back to bed," You admit, reaching out to grab the edge of the sink as you feel yourself begin to waver.
"Okay then," He says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he scoops you up in his arms, slowly carrying you back to the bedroom and setting you gently on top of your pillows. "Try to get some rest," He murmurs, pulling the blankets up over you. "I love you," He adds, brushing the hair away from your face.
"I love you too," You murmur back, leaning into his touch and the comfort of the knowledge that he'll always be right here.
USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI
Your alarm feels even earlier than usual, and after confirming that it is indeed time to get up, you turn it off with a groan. You're feeling particularly at odds with the world already today, and part of you just wants to pull the covers over your head and go back to sleep. Instead, you slither out of bed, standing next to it as you check the e-mail notification that had popped up overnight.
"Oh," At the sound of his voice, you turn to look at Wakatoshi. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, and he's looking at you with a slight frown on his face. "My love..." He gestures down at your side of the bed, and to your horror, you see a streak of red on the otherwise pristine sheets.
Suddenly, the way you're feeling is making a lot more sense. "Oh no," You drop your face in your hands, muffling your words. "That's absolutely disgusting. I'm so sorry." You don't even want to look at him, but at the sound of rustling sheets, you finally drop your hands. Your boyfriend is methodically stripping the bed.
"Why don't you get in the shower? I'll start washing these." He says matter-of-factly. There must be something in your expression, because you see his face soften. "It's alright. It's natural," He assures you.
"But-" You can't put into words how mortified you are. Natural or not, he shouldn't have to see it, much less clean it up. "At least let me do that," You insist finally, reaching for the pile of bedding.
"No," He twists away so that it's out of your reach, "I've got it. Just get in the shower, okay?"
"You shouldn't have to, though," You say more softly.
"I don't have to," He agrees. "I want to help you. Can I do that?"
You bite your lower lip, trying not to let your hormonally-charged emotions win this battle. "Okay," You say finally.
"Okay," He echoes you, dropping the sheets into the laundry basket before crossing the room back to you, gently taking your face in his hands and pressing a kiss to your lips. "I'll make you some tea to have with breakfast," He adds after he pulls away. "Will that help?"
"Yes," You whisper, the I-love-you hidden in his words practically echoing in your head. You can't resist pulling him back in for one more kiss, hoping he feels the I-love-you-too that you press into it.
MIYA ATSUMU
"Atsumu!" You knock on the bathroom door, "Are you soon done?" It's moments like these when you really regret that this apartment has only one bathroom.
"Just got in!" He shouts back above the sound of the running shower. You bite back a sigh. He's famous for his long, hot showers.
"I really have to go!" You call back. "Can't you make it quick?" You're on the verge of pacing back down the hallway, just to help you hold it in.
"The door isn't locked! Can't ya just come in and go?" You freeze. It might be silly, but it's an unspoken milestone that you haven't crossed yet - peeing in front of each other.
"But!" You groan.
"But what? Ya've seen me naked before," You can practically hear his smirk.
"Tsumu," You whine, but in a matter of moments, you open the door anyway. It's gotten to the point where you don't have much choice. With only a moment's hesitation, you put up the toilet lid.
"How was yer day?" Atsumu begins conversationally.
"We're not doing this," You say quickly. "I'm going, and then I'm leaving the bathroom."
You hear him sigh. "Want me to get out and pee too, so we're even?" He asks, completely serious.
"No!" You say quickly. "I'm leaving now." Before he can say anything else, you're closing the door behind you.
About 10 minutes later, Atsumu finds you in the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist as drips of water slip from his hair. "Guess we're a real couple now," He grins, leaning in and pressing a damp kiss to your lips.
"We weren't before?" You ask, quirking an eyebrow.
"'Parently not. Didn't know it was such a big deal," He says with a smug grin. "How will I ever look at you the same again?"
"Hey!" You swat his bare shoulder indignantly. "It was your idea." You remind him.
"Guess so," He hums. "Know what? I think I still love ya just as much." His smile is softer somehow, despite the teasing glint in his eyes.
"Oh?" You ask, struggling to maintain your haughty expression.
"Yeah," He nods. "Looks like you're stuck with me." He leans in for a longer kiss, almost making you forget about the small puddle that's begun to form on the floor.
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rockingbytheseaside · 5 months ago
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Hihi!, This is my first request of something like this but here we go! Male harbingers with a reader who has constant nightmares/episodes of sleep paralysis and proceed to comfort them through the process. Obviously you don’t gotta do it if you don’t have the time, just wanted to put this little headcannon out into the world!
(I swear I’m not dead! I was busy graduating and enrolling in my next uni studies!)
✦ How they comfort you when you wake up from a nightmare
Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe.
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In the darkest depth of our consciousness, even we do not possess sovereignty over our dreams. Be it a curse or a blessing, your mind can become your foe. As thoughts and memories convulse into pleasant dreams or horrid nightmares, you end up with the dreaded sense of despair as you witness your own mind betraying you, and waking up with a cold sweat. Tossing and turning, there is only a certain pair of arms that can soothe you in the dimness of such nights - your beloved’s embrace. 
✧ Pierro knows you’re having a nightmare before you even wake up. On a quiet night, when he is sitting beside you in bed, either reading or engrossed in some papers, you’d doze off beside him. But on such nights, he discerns the unease written on your sleeping face. Eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed or softly scowling. The Jester sets whatever he is reading aside and shifts his calculated attention towards you. You start silently tossing as if the very softness of the covers is heavy on you. Pierro sighs, his hand softly coming to rest on your forehead to confirm his suspicion - you are warm, yet breaking out into a cold sweat.
“Dear, shh… open your eyes, slowly now.” - he whispers, as his hands slowly yet deliberately caress your face. “You are having a nightmare again.” 
And indeed, you open your eyes; your dazed expression is one of puzzlement yet evident fear. Pierro knows your first few minutes of waking up from a nightmare are delicate. Through the haze, your first instinct is to seek refuge in the safety of the arms holding you, knowing to who it belongs already. You turn towards him, letting him pull you against his chest. 
 “…Your mind is wary and played tricks on you. You're here now. Breathe.” - you kept your eyes closed, too worn out to get up or speak about your nightmare. Thus, you focused on Jester’s words, breathing deeply as the sound of his heartbeat was navigating you to inhale and exhale. 
You didn't have to explain your nightmares to Pierro - he already knows they mirror the horrors of the cataclysm he once witnessed. Therefore, he squeezes you tightly against him, his lips pressed against your forehead. With silent words of comfort, Pierro continued his vows to protect you, even from your nightmares. 
✧ Il Capitano kneeled beside your bed, akin to a dutiful knight. You lay there, asleep, your wounds and gashes carefully bandaged. This wasn't your first time returning from a prolonged expedition, battle scars and bruises coloring your skin. After all, he often warns you not to be reckless, while you stubbornly return home with bruises. 
Hence, he silently remained beside you, his fists clenched and shoulders taut. His pitch-black helmet stared at you for a prolonged time, anxiously keeping watch of your deep slumber. The Captain's mind reeled, chastising himself for not being there to protect you. But suddenly his attention was diverted as you started to mutter in your sleep. 
It was incomprehensible and lasted only a fleeting second before you jolted up with a sudden gasp, urgently grappling for breath.
“My beloved, what is the matter?” - Capitano rushed towards your side, his arm immediately around your shoulder. “Focus on breathing, steady your heart.”
You wake up, eyes wide with shock and gasping for life, like a fool rescued from drowning. You stared at your beloved in confusion, before your face sourced in melancholy. Il Capitano let you hide your face against him, his arms carefully wrapped around you to avoid pressing your bruises. He sensed your shoulders shaking, small sobs emitting from you - and that sound alone could make the steadfast Harbinger crumble. His hands brush your messy hair aside, offering soothing comfort.
“I shall hold you, my dear. These were only illusions brought about by your fatigue and injuries… It’s all safe now, I am here.” - Capitano squeezed you in his embrace as if his larger frame could shield you from harm. However, in truth, his words aimed to reassure not only you but also himself. Despite his vigilance, his hands trembled whenever he witnessed your distress, fear, or unease. "What did you see, my love?"
You sniffled, recounting the blurry bits of your nightmare. Although you were regaining your breath, you felt how Capitano’s hand trembled, his stern expression faltering with concern. Even you could tell that he was more nervous about your disposition, maybe even more than you. 
“You saw such horrible visions due to your fatigue. I did not shield you from your wounds and nightmares. I shan’t forgive myself for my failure. From here on out, allow me to remedy it.” 
✧ At an ungodly hour of the night, Il Dottore returned to his private chambers. With the long hours of working in the lab behind him, he entered the bedroom quietly, expecting to see you fast asleep. Instead, he noticed the bathroom door ajar, allowing a streak of light to seep into the dark room, and the faint sound of tap water running caught his attention. Most importantly, you were not in bed. 
“It’s rare to see you awake at this hour…” - the Doctor remarked as he stood by the bathroom doorway, observing you cool your face with water. “Why are you not asleep?”
“I…couldn’t sleep.” - you replied briefly, yet your fatigue was evident as you tapped your face with a towel.
The Harbinger did not buy your lies, he carefully stepped closer, his gloved hands placed softly onto your shoulders. “Turn around. Look at me.” 
You did so, and no words were necessary as he analyzed your sorrowful gaze: reddened eyes, darkened circles, and an ashan look of despair bestowed on you. The Harbinger sighed, keenly aware that you had woken from another harrowing dream. His hands now gently caressed your cheek, thumb trailing softly.
“Another nightmare?” - he inquired in a hushed tone, “Staying awake won’t resolve it, you know. Let’s get you back to bed.” 
You wished to object, but Dottore had already sprung into full work mode. He brought you back to bed, deftly fixing the tousled pillows and covers to your liking. Once you were tucked, he instructed quickly: “Now stay here. I will brew some chamomile tea. It will help your slumber.” 
Thus, with his coat removed and sleeves rolled up to the forearms, he moved through the house, swiftly ensuring that your resting area exuded comfort and tranquility. Returning with the steaming tea, he placed the cup on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. “Careful now, it’s still hot. Do you want me to give you sleeping p-” 
“I’m not ill, Dottore. It was just… a nightmare. Nothing more.” 
“Yet your expression says it wasn’t ‘just’ a nightmare, and your heartbeat is accelerating.” - His hand ran over your forehead, instinctively checking for your temperature. “It’s just a dream. You're awake now. Don’t exhaust yourself anymore - it’s usually my job to stay late, actually.” 
You huffed at him but managed a faint smile. “Undoubtedly… And what would the doctor prescribe for my ailment?” 
Il Dottore smirked proudly, planting a much-needed kiss on your cheek before finally scooting beside you in bed - “Why, a dose of me, of course!” 
✧ The moment Scaramouche perceived the sound of your distress in the dead of night, he swiftly flung the sliding shoji door aside, prepared for murder. But there was no intruder or attacker, it was just you, sitting up on your futon, softly weeping. The confused Balladeer stepped into your room, kneeling beside you as his mind invoked the worst scenarios already.
“What happened? I heard a scream.”
For a moment you tried to regain your breath, gulping. Only after regaining your composure, and hearing much coaxing to tell the truth, did you finally reveal to him what transpired. It was a nightmare, plain and simple. For a moment, Scaramouche was silent. He is no stranger to dreams, particularly the ones that bring tears to the dreamer. Instead, he resented them, viewing dreams as the root of his vulnerabilities and the reason for his estrangement.
But witnessing you weep after a nightmare? It was a foreign feeling, one that left a foul pit in his being.
“Hey, calm down.” - he whispered, reaching for you. At first, the Harbinger wasn’t sure how to handle this, but he persisted nonetheless. “It was all just a dream. A jumble of thoughts made up by your mind, Do not allow such a thing to haunt your sleep.”
“I'm sorry, Scara… I know, It’s foolish to cry. I just-”
The 6th shushed you, but when you tried to glance at him in the dark, you sensed no mockery or animosity in his gaze. “I didn't say you should stop crying. It’s not foolish either.”
With a deep sigh, Scaramouche begrudgingly crawled beside you under the covers. He made sure you were lying down beside him, pulling the covers over you both. "Okay, listen. I will stay with you while you fall back asleep. Only this time! So don't expect a bedtime story."
His irritation veiled his concern for your weary expression. But thankfully, his words managed to elicit a chuckle to your sleepy face. He watched you lay on your side, his fingers idly toying with the ends of your hair.
"Say, Scaramouche...? Do puppets have bad dreams?"
The Balladeer did not think much of your innocent question. He didn't have to contemplate long to let his memories resurface; instead, he just nodded quietly with no elaboration. Regardless, that simple question from you kept haunting his mind for years to come. As Wanderer sat alone in bed, the torturous grip of dreams clutching him anew, he no longer had you beside him. The reassurance he once provided while spending sleepless nights with you was absent, just as you were no longer there to offer the same. 
✧ When you jolted up with a yelp, you likely caused a bigger fright to Pantalone than your own nightmare instilled in you. The Harbinger rose from his slumber, turning the nightstand lamp with half-shut eyes.
“Oh dearie, Shhh… It’s alright, all is good,” - he tugged at you with trepidation, pulling you close to him in bed. “I’ve never seen you so frightened from a dream. There, there.” 
You honestly felt ashamed at first, but both of you understood the uncontrollable nature of nightmares, especially if they caused you to scream in the awakened world. So here you were, hiding your face behind your palms while your beloved hugged you, hoping to provide solace. Once you came out of your shock, you just rested against his shoulder quietly. Once the shock subsided, you remained leaning against his shoulder in silence. However, the lingering taste of the nightmare left a sour impression on your mood, as you found yourself unable to drift back into slumber. 
Pantalone observed your despondent demeanor, his arm still encircling your shoulders - “Do you think you can fall back asleep, honey?”  
“... I’m sorry, Pantalone. I woke you up, too. Now I feel embarrassed.” 
“Nonsense, dear. An unpleasant dream does that sometimes. You’re just… shaken by the memories of your nightmare, and now unable to fall back asleep.” - The Regrator brought the covers closer over your figure, while your head leaned on his shoulders. “Do you want me to make you something? Maybe coffee, or valerian root tea with honey?” 
“No, no. Can you just… keep talking for a while?” - you requested in a sudden coy manner, “You can talk about anything. I want to hear you speak.” 
“Hm, very well,” - Pantalone smiled fondly and reached for his glasses on the nightstand. “I think I have just the idea.” 
Reaching for a book he usually reads before bed, the Harbinger scooted closer, ensuring the open pages were visible to you. Pantalone knew that what troubled you did not require in-depth words or solutions. Instead, you sought a distraction from your troubled mind. Something to keep your saddened thoughts at bay while he spoke about whatever he could think of. 
“Then allow me to read for you while you rest easy, okay? Ahem…”
In the dimly illuminated bedroom, you found solace in the soothing voice of your beloved, your gaze tracing the words on the pages as Pantalone remained engrossed in his reading aloud. You kept quiet and still, seeing him flip the pages as he continued. Soon enough, the gentle cadence of his voice ushered you into the embrace of sleep, and you yielded willingly back to slumber. Pantalone detected your drooping head and quietly closed the book before planting a kiss on your forehead.
"Sleep well, dear." 
✧ Tartaglia blinked at you, his countenance solemn as he sat upright in bed. You mirrored his gaze, knowing perfectly well what he would say. You could smell it a mile away.
“Let me beat them!”
“No,” - you crossed your arms.
“Let me beat whoever bothers you in your nightmares”
“For the last time, Ajax, you can’t physically ‘fight’ nightmares! It’s a nightmare, not a person!”
Such was the course of your evening. Startled from a haunting dream, you found Childe by your side, showing more concern for your welfare than you did yourself. Instead, he insisted on vanquishing your nightmares with his fists alone.
“Oh come on, you know I’m just joking. I saw you gasping for air after you woke up so abruptly; don’t blame me for being concerned.” - Childe rolled his eyes, gently pulling you to rest on his arms. “Tell me, what did you see?”
You sighed deeply, remaining apprehensive despite his humorous jabs. After much contemplation, you decided it would be worse if you recited your nightmares vocally. “It… It doesn’t matter. It was a nonsensical nightmare, nothing to ponder about.”
The Harbinger frowned softly, he knew you well enough when something troubled you. And it was clear you felt anguished by the recent dream you had. Pressing further would only exacerbate it, instead, he decided to annoy you in a different manner
“Well, next time you have a bad dream… Call out for me. In your dreams I mean!” - He stated with a big smile.
“...What?”
“Think about it! Something is bothering you while you’re dreaming - you call out for me, and I stop my dreams to come to your dream.”
“That’s ridiculous,” - you chuckled
“And then, you know, pow, pow!” - Childe mimicked the motion of fistfighting, pretending to punch some invisible opponent who could be your potential enemy in a nightmare. In the meantime, you started laughing even more. “And there you go! Your nightmares are now rainbows and sunshine.”
You knew well what Tartaglia was doing. He aimed to lift you out of your forlorn state by sharing lighthearted jokes - and it was working. Tartaglia watched you laughing silly as he made some childish remarks, feeling victorious to bring in that smile he adores oh so much. It was his method of alleviating the tensions in your mind, and it proved effective as the two of you snuggled in bed, entertained by amusing banter until your worries subsided. Then, and only then, would you release a contented sigh and allow yourself to drift back into slumber in the comforting embrace of your beloved.
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entitled-fangirl · 6 months ago
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Indeed, my girl.
Cregan Stark x Velaryon!reader
Summary: The reader is dealing with the grief of losing Luke. Cregan helps in the ways he can.
Warnings: Talks of attempted sa, Threatening, Talks of death, cursing, mental health
Masterlist
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She hadn't been the same since the death of her younger brother. 
Cregan had noticed it. 
Fewer meals, fewer baths, fewer words, and fewer movements entirely. 
As if the grief was killing her from the inside. 
And he could only watch.
He was a man of action. He'd killed men with his bare heads for far less.
And he could only watch as grief was murdering his wife. 
...
"There's something on your mind," he stated from the doorway of their shared chambers.
She sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. 
When she made no motion to look at him, he walked to her, kneeling down with a hand on her back, "I wish I knew what you think so much about."
She shook her head as she stared at the flames. Her voice was hoarse, "No, you don't."
He tilted his head, "Try me."
She turned and looked at him from over her shoulder. 
Only then did he notice the hollowing of her cheeks. 
The dark circles under her eyes. 
She sniffled, "Does the pain go away?"
He felt his chest tighten. 
The death of his own younger brother. 
His brother had died years ago.
"No."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"You just learn to live with it." He said awkwardly. 
Starks were not made for emotions.
She turned to him completely now, abandoning warmth of the fire, "How?"
"I dunno. It just happens one day." He looked off in thought. "You forget about it for a while. But…" 
She felt herself leaning into every word.
"You still see him in every first snow of the winter. Every pine tree with missing branches." He lets out a strained laugh, "And every fucking rabbit."
She shifted herself closer, wiping at her cheeks. "I… I see him. When I close my eyes."
He nods, "You will. You always will."
"I haven't felt this since," she pauses, "Since… Ser Harwin died."
Ser Harwin Strong.
Her biological father.
"And did that ever go away?" He asked quietly.
She sniffled, "No. But it became easier with time. When…" Her eyes flooded with tears again, "When I forgot what he looked like."
He couldn't help the coo from his throat as he immediately pulled her into his lap.
"What if I forget what he looks like, Cregan?" She asked in horror.
He tucked her face into his neck, "It'll be alright."
"What if… if this was my fault?" She sobbed into him.
"How could it ever be your fault, my girl?" He asked calmly.
Her shoulder shook with hiccups, "Like… with… with Harwin… and I… it's… it's my fault…"
He pulled her away from him to look into her eyes, "What do you mean?"
"I had… and when…" 
"Shh," he immediately cooed. "Tell me when you're ready. " His hands brushed her cheeks gently, catching stray tears as she tried to steady her breathing. 
After a while, she managed it enough to speak, "I was the reason… Harwin was sent away."
His brows furrowed, "I'm not understanding you, sweet girl."
"He was sent away for… for defending us as bastards against Ser Criston. And… Harwin was already mad at Criston because of me."
Cregan hummed, "Alright?"
"I look like him but… I… I looked like my mother then. And… Criston at one point liked my mother very much. And… and in turn, he began to take a liking to me."
Cregan's jaw clenched at the sound of where the story was going. 
"One night, I… I was going to my chambers and… and he pinned me to the wall and… tried to… sully me."
His hands that were on her hips tightened and his eyes darkened, "What?"
"You took my maidenhead, Cregan. You know that."
Her words did little to comfort him. "But how far did he get? I'll fucking kill him myself."
"I'm fine. I got out. And… I told Harwin. He promised to deal with it the next day and… Criston questioned our parentage that day. That day it all happened and he was sent away. To die in that stupid fucking fire." She leaned back, "If I had just kept it to myself, he wouldn't have been so angry-"
"-No. No. Don't even begin to say that," Cregan said firmly as he took her face in his hands again. "You did it all right."
"It doesn't feel like it."
"I know it doesn't."
"Luke looked like him the most."
He pulled her to him again. 
Her voice grew low, "I'll kill them all."
Cregan stared at the flames of the fireplace. 
He was quiet for a while, until his voice came out strong and firm, "The North remembers."
She leaned away, rubbing at the few tears that still laid on her cheeks. "The Greens don't know what they've done."
"Aye. They don't."
Here, in Winterfell, the two lovers began to find solace in each other. 
"You're the only other person that I…"
Cregan hung on every word now. He spoke in a low murmur, "Say it. You can say it to me."
"-I've never told anyone else what happened with Cole. Besides Harwin. Just… you."
He felt a protective feeling surge through him. Nothing was getting through him to her, he'd make sure of that.
"You remind me of him, you know."
He paused, "Who, my girl?"
"Harwin."
His lips parted, "How…. How so?"
Her hands moved his face, caressing his cheeks until they grew firm, "You wouldn't let anything fucking touch me either."
He could've let that smirk grow more on his face, but he kept it suppressed, "I won't let anyone or anything touch you, my girl. I swear it."
She hummed, relaxing, "Much like him. Like home."
Cregan let a smile come across his face, "I'm honored I'm like home to you, sweet Princess."
"He…" She smiled, recalling a memory, "He had taught my brothers the sword. As a girl, I had no luxury. But… in secret, he gave me lessons with throwing knives."
His head tilted, impressed, "He taught you how to throw knives?"
"He was a talented man."
"Aye."
"That's how I did it."
"Did what, pretty?"
She paused, taking a deep breath, "How… I defended myself. Cole, he… he pinned me to the wall. When he was distracted, I pulled my knife on him and threatened him with something… too unladylike to say."
Cregan Stark felt a deep surge of pride flow through his body at her confession. "Tell me."
"Oh, no. It's… it's too crude."
His hands moved to her thighs, "Please, wife. I must know."
"I threatened to… 'take the thing that he thinks with' and... I did not mean his head."
Cregan let out a bark of a laugh, throwing his head back dramatically. 
When he came back to, his smile never left, "My little dragon of a wife. It seems you're just full of fire!"
She smiled, "Is that a bad thing?"
He pulled her closer to him, "Absolutely not." His lips brushed hers, "I'm quite fond of it."
"Good," she whispered. 
Their lips connected in a soft kiss.
"They'll pay. I promise." Cregan said as he pulled away. "Starks don't forget oaths."
"Winter is coming. Isn't it, Cregan?"
He smiled, "Indeed, my girl."
.........................................................................
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ayumip · 2 months ago
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𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮…𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬?
boyfriend!rin x reader
word count: 0.6k
rin, your boyfriend, is jealous of the stray cat you recently adopted. so what's he going to do? get it away of course!
recently, rin's been wearing a permanent scowl on his face, not that he didn't scowl at everyone before, but now it was wayyy more obvious.
you, on the other hand, were living your best life. for the past month, you've been feeding this stray cat in your neighborhood, bringing it milk, cat food and water from the nearby connivence story everyday. it took you a while to confirm that it was indeed a stray, and not a cat roaming around using its cuteness to lure passersby to give it more food. nevertheless, you begged rin to allow you to adopt it into your shared apartment. using your puppy dog eyes, and some other forms of convincing, he relented with a "i don't care as long as it doesn't bother me"
little did he know, that cat would be the death of him.
"here kitty kitty~!" you would coo at your new pet with that bright smile of yours, showering it with love and affection. you cuddled with it on your chest every morning, every afternoon, every evening; even when your were working late at night, it was either on your lap or on your desk. (that was his privilege! though he would never admit it, he thrived off your touch. if he could, he would glue himself next to you, never letting go)
rin wasn't the best at voicing his emotions. this past week, you've been all over your cat! gushing about it, playing with it, taking care of it...how about him! he was itching for you to cuddle with him again, or lay his head on your lap as you gave him his head scratches that he oh so adored; even a quick touch would mean heaven for him at this point!
deprived of your touch, rin has begun to utterly despise your cat. oh, to him it was the definition of the devil itself —nuzzling up to you all the time, taking your attention away from him, your boyfriend, squishing itself in the middle of you two in the middle of your horror movie nights, or even worse, evicting him away from his spot in your arms. he was getting crankier, but he wouldn't say anything! he just gave you fleeting touches hoping you'd get the hint, which of course, you didn't.
tonight, it was the night. he wanted your touch back, no, he needed it back! it's been a week, a week away from you (not really, rin's exaggerating here.) the three of you were sitting on the shared couch, watching yet another horror movie. instead of you cuddling up to him, you were instead petting your cat! softly stroking it's fur and scratching just behind it's ears. it let out a content purr, satisfied with your ministrations. rin, could not focus on the movie at all, despite horror being his favorite genre.
when you momentarily left to grab some water. rin pounced on the chance to give your cat his signature death stare, it hissing back in response to rin's hostility. rin didn't falter, he cupped the cat's cheeks 'gently', glaring into it's eyes:
"get away from my girlfriend, you lukewarm creature." he muttered, only to be met with your cat's sharp paws smacking his face.
you were watching from afar, biting back your laughter at the hilarious exchange between your cat and your boyfriend. joining them back at the couch, you picked up your cat, prying it away from rin, who was moments away from god knows what, nuzzling into your arms as it glared rin down.
"...rin- are you picking a fight with my baby?"
"i'm your baby."
authors note: god i wish i had a cat too :( there may be some mischaracterization here but i had this idea and wrote it in like 30 mins...might write a pt 2 where rin gets along w ur cat at last!
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gildui · 7 months ago
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"All right, love?"
"Simon, the fuck is this?"
"Wanted a pet, yeah?"
"A pet, yeah. This?" A pathetic thing. A bundle of fur covered in dirt and grime and stunk up the flat worse than the dead mouse from a month ago. "This is no bloody pet!"
He'd come home from a deployment with a shit-eating grin across his unmasked face — a rarity, truly — his away bag slung over one of his broad (lovely) shoulders, and a bundle of something wrapped up in an old shirt in his arms.
You should have known better. Should have known because when the pile yowled a sound akin to an eldritch horror and Simon had the audacity to laugh—a deep, low sound that would have you on your knees if it weren't at your expense— you nearly socked the man in the face.
It uncurled itself from the sopping ball that Simon had lain across the floor between your socked feet and Simon's steel-toe boots. Shiny boots too, aye? He could keep his boots clean yet couldn't remember to rinse the sink of his little pokey blonde hairs after a shave?!
God, it was insufferable. Man disappears for weeks to months, then reappears like nothing just happened? No 'hi' or 'hello' or 'how are you?'—
The thing yowls again, sending you skyrocketing across your living room to use the sofa as a buffer between you and the thing whilst Simon's antagonizing laugh rings through.
You're gonna kill him, you determine.
"When I said a bloody pet, Simon," your voice is biting, reminding the bloke in front of you of all times his mother had whelped at him for his own little spin on directions. "I meant a dog, or- or- a cat. Fucking 'ell, a fish would do!"
"What's wrong with it?" Simon deadpans with a raised eyebrow, those dark brown eyes filled with mirth as one of his booted foot slides the few inches in front of him and prods at the bundle of wet material and fur. The action causes another horror-like screech to erupt from it and the situation repeats itself once more.
Though, this time, you perhaps scream alongside it because the nudge from Simon's boot causes the thing to propel its tiny body forward, spearing towards the couch.
And unfortunately, you.
A few hours later, after multiple baths—yours unwillingly, his as payback, and the thing required at least two before your eyes stopped watering—the two of you determine that it was indeed a cat.
To which, Simon promptly named the thing “cat.” And you scowled whilst renaming it “satan.”
Congratulations on your new pet:
Cuppa Cat Satan Kentucky Bourbon the III, Destroyer of Sanities and Ankles.
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ellecdc · 26 days ago
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hi! for a finnick prompt would you be able to do one where him and reader are already together and they are both doing their own thing but in the same room and he wants her attention but reader is still shy so she is lowkey ignoring him and is blushing, you could include lots of kisses from him, idk if that makes sense but i love your writing!
ok I'm sorry I included exactly 0 kisses in this but it's because they were in public and idk about shy!reader but I would simply combust if I participated in PDA. I hope the rest makes up for it though hahaha <3
Finnick Odair x fem!reader who are training for the 75th Hunger Games [613 words]
CW: it is set during the games technically (or at least the lead up) but I stg it's super chill and comedic - hardly any darkness at all, Finnick being a relentless flirt, reader is going Through It, one threat of violence made by reader
It was getting harder and harder to avoid Finnick’s gaze, though you were beginning to suspect that was likely by design. 
It was near impossible to ignore him. No sooner would you move to a different training station was he waltzing over to set up directly across from you; perhaps appearing innocent and nonchalant to the untrained eye, but his unrelenting smirk gave him away.
That was fine…this was fine. You were more or less…accustomed to Finnick, although that was usually behind closed doors, and even then you found yourself a moment's notice away from simply melting into the floorboards. Still, you figured you could probably manage having him stand across the table cutting eyes at you, so long as no one else noticed. 
You looked up from the sample snares in front of you to confirm that no one else had noticed, watching in horror as one half of the lovers from District 12 quickly averted his gaze from you. 
Fuck. 
“You’re supposed to be looking at me, sweetheart. Don’t look at him.” Finnick murmured into your ear, causing you to let out an inelegant - and rather embarrassing - yelp as you quickly spun on the spot; suddenly face to face with your tormentor boyfriend who now had you essentially pinned between the workstation and his frame. 
“Finnick.” You hissed, ignoring the heat in your face and the tightness in your chest as you tried to shove him away. He allowed you to turn back towards the station, but he made no effort to create space between the two of you. 
“Yes, darling?”
“Go away.” You nearly whined, cringing as you watched Johanna snort humourlessly and shake her head at the two of you. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Embarrassing you!?” Finnick nearly wailed, causing you to - once again - nervously glance around the room at the other victors.
Tributes? 
Tribute victors?
Victor tributes…
Whatever; lethal fuckers you were going to have to befriend or literally die trying in the next few days. You hardly saw what Finnick’s angle was by harassing you. 
“Babe. I’m offended.” He continued, trailing after you as you tried to move to another station in order to shake him off, though he did have the decency to keep his voice down around the district five and six tributes. Victors? Fuck. “How is loving on my sweet, beautiful girl embarrassing?”
You nearly whimpered as you stomped one of your feet petulantly, bringing one of your hands up to your cheeks to inspect them. And, yup - as you suspected - your face was scorching.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Finnick cooed, and between your embarrassment, the fact that Finnick for a moment sounded truly concerned for your wellbeing, and the stress of being here again, you didn’t realize your mistake in responding “you’re making me blush” until it was too late. 
Finnick - the smug bastard - seemed all too pleased at the news; smile growing impossibly brighter as he stood straighter in his victory. 
“That’s kind of the point, honey.” He all but cheered, raising his hand as though he were going to confirm for himself that your cheeks were, indeed, a furnace.
You quickly - and rather aggressively - swatted his hand away from you. 
“Finnick Odair, you touch me and I’ll have you hanging from the rafters so fucking fast it isn’t funny.” You threatened in a volume you assumed to be quiet, until you realized the gym had fallen silent and you had an audience of twenty two staring intently at the two of you. 
Finnick let out a bark of laughter as you made to storm away, though you didn’t miss how Katniss leaned in to whisper “okay; Beetee, Wiress, Mags, and her” into Peeta’s ear.
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starkeyisthelastname · 5 months ago
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Okay but forreal… how would it go down if babydoll’s dad caught trailer park!rafe defiling his precious daughter 😫 I can just imagine him getting more suspicious about the time his daughter is gone and one day he catches her walking into Rafe’s trailer and barges in their to see her getting absolutely defiled and disgraced by Rafe who would just smirk and be like “think it’s about time we tell him he’s gonna be a grandpa or what?” UGHHH HE’S SO MEAN I LUV HIM
uh oh 🤭
With you being pregnant, you had been spending nearly all your time over at Rafe’s. You weren’t very far along, your bump barely noticeable to most. You were in your own little world, happy as can be to be pregnant with Rafe’s baby and very hormonal. You were even more clingy with him, nearly had a meltdown when he left to go get beer one night and needed dick all the time.
Your father had been growing a little suspicious of you here recently as you seemed to never be home anymore. It was now the third day this week you hadn’t been at the trailer when he had gotten off work and he couldn’t get past it. So much so he got in his truck and began slowly driving down the road to see if you were around the park anywhere. Surely he had nothing to worry about and you were just finishing up handing out the cookies you liked to make for everyone.
He was about to turn around when he spotted a flash of pink at one of a familiar trailer. His eyes widened in a flash of horror as he saw you walking into the run down dump that was Rafe Cameron’s. The same man that never paid rent on time, had a major attitude problem and got drunk all day off of cheap beer. What was his innocent daughter doing anywhere around that piece of trash? Your father didn’t know what he had expected to see when he barged in Rafe’s trailer door, but it definitely wasn’t you on that filthy man’s lap doing things he never thought you would ever partake in. He didn’t even have words to process the sight he saw in front of him.
You were so incredibly needy, Rafe’s huge cock stretching your leaking hole as he whispered dirty words in your ear. His large hands gripped your waist that was barely starting to round out, reminding himself you were indeed knocked up with his baby. He smiled at the thought, facial hair tickling your neck as you threw your head back against his broad shoulder. “Such a desperate little thing for cock now that I got you pregnant, huh?” His voice rough as you had barely walked through the front door before he had your pretty little pink dress up as you were begging to be filled.
It was the door slamming open that made his blue eyes look up an instant look of gratification on his face as he saw your father standing there in shock. You were so cock drunk too, that you couldn’t do anything but sit there and continue to take it up your fluttering cunt. He let out a small laugh, staring the old man right in the face as he continued to thrust upward. He was sick for doing this, but then again really gave zero fucks. He wanted this to happen, to finally show that miserable bastard that he had ownership of your sugary sweet self now.
“Well look who it is babydoll. Takin’ a bad man’s dick up your little fuckhole for your pops to finally see. Should we tell him he’s gonna be a grandpa?” Rafe’s voice raspy as your beautiful moans still echoed off the trailer walls. Oh he had you completely ruined and he was loving every dirty second of it. Here you were taking dick up your pretty cunt that he had broken open and nutted into, now to only be a hormonal mess that couldn’t get anything out but “Fuck me..”
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dixons-sunshine · 22 days ago
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Risky Business | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: During an evening party organized by Carol, you and Daryl couldn’t help but get a little worked up, your hands constantly finding each other amongst the crowd. So you slipped off, the two of you discreetly finding your way to the bathroom to have your fun—even at the risk of getting caught.
Genre: Smut.
Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.
Warnings: Swearing, porn with the tiniest bit of plot towards the end, quickie, semi public sex? (they do it in someone’s bathroom), risk of getting caught (they don’t), unprotected p in v (wrap it up, guys), creampie, aftercare because of course, mentions of pregnancy.
Word count: 1.7k.
A/N: I’m just gonna leave this here and disappear lol. I really don’t know what possessed me when I got this idea, but I hope it’s enjoyable. Also, massive thanks to @thevegandarkelf for encouraging me to write this (and for help with the summary) 💜.
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Laughter and chatter could be heard from the living room. Surprisingly, everyone seemed to be enjoying the small get-together that Carol had planned. The party was in full swing, with no sign of anyone returning to their respective homes anytime soon. It was nice to have an escape from the horrors of a world run by the undead.
However, the pleasantries downstairs were only a vague remembrance in your mind. No offense to Carol’s efforts to make the party fun, but you found what you and Daryl were up to way more enjoyable.
“Hmm,” Daryl hummed against your lips, his mouth moving against yours desperately as his hands gripped at your hips. He pushed you against the sink in the bathroom, your back making contact with the cold marble.
You gently nipped at his lower lip, smiling when he groaned and pressed his body against yours, his growing erection pressing against your thigh. “This is wrong,” you mumbled against his mouth, your hands working at his belt buckle, and then at the buttons of his jeans.
“So wrong,” Daryl agreed, his chapped lips moving down your jaw, trailing hungry, open-mouthed kisses against the skin of your neck, before finally stopping to gently scrape his teeth against the pulse point beneath your ear.
You gasped, leaning your head back to allow him better access to your neck. You pushed his jeans down, just enough to reveal his hard-on that was still covered by the fabric of his boxers. “They’re waiting for us. If they come looking, they might find us like this.”
“They could,” Daryl agreed again, his own hands working to push your pants down as well. “This s’risky. We could get caught.”
Despite the both of you agreeing that what you were doing was, indeed, very risky, neither of you made any effort to stop the other. In fact, as Daryl pushed your underwear down and you stepped out of both your pants and panties, and you helped Daryl push his boxers down to bundle up with his jeans at his knees, sharing looks full of lust, you realized that you would not be able to find it in yourself to stop him.
Daryl’s mouth collided against yours again, his tongue delving deep into your mouth and groaning at the taste. He tapped the side of your leg, signalling for you to jump. You did just that, wrapping your arms around his neck. Daryl caught you, walking—albeit awkwardly, due to his jeans being bundled up by his knees—you away from the sink in favour of holding you up against the wall.
You pulled your lips from his, your mouths being connected by a string of saliva. Daryl’s usual stunning cerulean-coloured eyes were barely visible behind his blown pupils, showing just how desperate he was for you in that moment. He needed you, just like you needed him.
“What are you waiting for?” you asked through panting breaths. “We have maybe ten minutes before someone comes looking. Let’s get to it.”
“Ya sure? We dun’ gotta rush—”
“Daryl, I love you, but please hurry up.”
Daryl chuckled gruffly at your eagerness, but nodded nonetheless. “Yes, ma’am.”
You watched in anticipation as Daryl lined himself up with your entrance, your heart pounding against your ribcage. The archer kept eye contact with you the entire time, not wanting to miss even a second of the beautiful expressions that graced your features as he slowly pushed his cock into you.
The breath got knocked from your lungs as he fully bottomed out. A high-pitched moan escaped your chest at the pleasurable stretch, your nails digging into his leather-covered shoulders. Even after all that time of regularly doing the devil’s tango, you still had to take a moment to get used to the slight sting that accompanied him when he had his dick stuffed all the way inside of you.
Daryl inhaled sharply, his lust-filled eyes meeting yours. “Y’alright?” he questioned. Despite the situation, the archer was more than willing to stop everything if you wanted him to. He would never do anything like this without your go-ahead first.
You took a few seconds to adjust. Once the little bit of pain subsided, you nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Just… Please move,” you begged him, not knowing how long you would be able to be patient with him being immobile.
Daryl took a few deep breaths. “Okay.” Then, he pulled back until only his tip was inside of you, before plunging right back in.
The rhythm started off slow and steady, but Daryl quickly picked up the pace. The two of you were running against the clock. He wanted to ensure that you got off as well, and to do that, he could not waste any time.
“Daryl,” you moaned quietly, right next to his ear, which you knew would always drive him insane. It seemed to work in your favour. Daryl’s hips snapped against yours, the tip of his cock hitting just the right spot. “Oh, fuck!” you gasped out in pleasure, your fingers disappearing into his hair and lightly tugging on his wavy brown roots.
Daryl groaned at the sensation. He smashed his lips against yours, both in an attempt to drown out the beautiful noises you made—which were for his ears only—and the noises you were pulling from him.
“Fuck,” he muttered against your mouth. “You ain’t got—” Thrust. “—no idea—” Thrust. “—how fuckin’—” Another thrust. “—good ya feel.”
“Yeah?” you asked rhetorically, a whine slipping past your lips and being swallowed up by Daryl’s. Your back was moving up and down against the cold tiles of the wall with each of his thrusts.
“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed with a choked off moan. “You feel like heaven.” He carefully moved one of his arms to your front, ensuring you did not fall, before pressing his calloused thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves and moving it in time with the pace of his hips.
“Shit! Oh, shit! Daryl, fuck!” You were trying really hard to keep quiet, but Daryl was making it damn near impossible. You lowered your head and pressed your face into his shoulder, muffling your moans with the leather of his vest. You could feel the knot in your stomach start to tighten, and some far-off piece of your mind was impressed by it. Never before had you been close so fast before. Daryl truly was the best partner you ever had.
“Close.” That’s all you managed to get out. Any other words would fall short.
Daryl could feel himself getting close as well. In fact, he was tapering on the edge of bliss. He grit his teeth together and upped his game. He was determined to make you finish first. His thumb pressed against your clit the tiniest bit harder, and his thrusts became more precise, more firm, hitting that one delicious spot inside you each time.
Before you could even fully process what was happening, you could feel the knot in your stomach snap. You came undone with a shout, that was drowned out by Daryl’s mouth against yours, waves and waves of pleasure washing through your body.
The clenching of your walls around his dick sent Daryl toppling over the edge. His hips stuttered and his pace wavered immensely as he spilled his seed deep inside of you, barely registering that he had intended to pull out like he always did. He leaned his forehead against yours, sweat dribbling down his temples.
The two of you said and did nothing for a good thirty seconds. You both simply stayed there in each other’s embrace, each catching your breaths as the intensity of the moment washed away, instead being replaced by reality.
Daryl was the first to move away. He pulled his cock out of you and pulled his boxers and jeans back up, before leaning over to grab a washcloth. He wet it and crouched down, gently cleaning you of both your juices and his.
And his.
“Fuck, m’so sorry!” Daryl apologized, his eyes widening at the realization of what line he had crossed.
His apology took you off guard. “What? Why are you sorry? What’s wrong?”
Daryl looked down and continued his task of cleaning you up, his cheeks burning in embarrassment of the admission he was about to make. “I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t pull out.”
Oh, you thought to yourself, relieved that it wasn’t something more serious. Despite his heartfelt apology, you could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest, finding him rather adorable in that moment for reasons even you could not put names on.
Daryl frowned at that, standing up from his crouched position. “What’s so funny?”
You shook your head as you smiled at him. “Nothing.” You reached down and reached for your discarded clothes, getting re-dressed into your panties and trousers. “You don’t have to be sorry, Daryl. I’m not mad.”
Daryl visibly relaxed at that. “You ain’t?”
You shook your head and looped your arms around his neck. “Not at all. It was bound to happen eventually. Besides, “worst” case scenario is that we have a little you running around in nine months. I don’t hate the sound of that.”
Daryl felt his heart speed up. You wouldn’t mind giving him a child? Starting a family with him? That made him happier than he would like to admit.
His hands came to rest on your hips. “Pretty sure the baby ain’t gon’ be able to run when they’re jus’ born, Sweetheart. Ain’t gon’ be able to do no runnin’ in nine months.”
You rolled your eyes and laughed. “You know I didn’t mean it literally.”
“Yeah, I—”
“Has anyone seen Daryl?”
The sound of Rick’s voice from somewhere in the home cut the archer off. You chuckled and withdrew from his hold, instead offering your hand to him.
“Come on. They noticed you are gone. It’s only a matter of time before they realize I’m gone, too.”
“And what if they question us comin’ back to the party together?” Daryl inquired, but took your hand in his nonetheless and allowed you to lead him from the bathroom.
You shrugged nonchalantly. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
Daryl huffed a small laugh. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”
“I am choosing to see that as a compliment.”
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sinner-as-saint · 11 months ago
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stuck with you
Bucky x Reader au
Run-through: Alone, cold, and stranded in the middle of a small town on top of a mountain. Not the most ideal situation to be in when the weather starts getting bad. No motels or inns have room for you so the locals suggest you reach out to a man named Bucky Barnes for shelter. Apparently, Bucky is known to always help stranded people, or lost hikers. No matter how weird it feels to drive up to a stranger’s house and ask for help, you have on other choice but to do just that. The plan was simple: stay with the strange, kind man for a couple of days until the snowstorm passes. But then you meet him and you find yourself unable to stick to the plan. 
Themes: age gap (reader is in her twenties, Bucky is in his early forties), strangers-to-lovers ish, smut, slight degrading kink, fluff
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It felt like the start of a horror movie. 
Unknown town, unknown people. You cursed yourself as you walked out of yet another motel who had no room left for you. 
What the hell were you thinking? After uni, you thought travelling the world on your own would help you with learning the right lessons, having the right experiences, and all that before you joined the family business and began working with your parents for the rest of your life. 
Instead of having fun though, here you were. Stuck on top of an icy mountain, in a small town, and nowhere to sleep for the night. With the snowstorm approaching, you had to find shelter quickly. But none of these motels or inns were free. Every hiker, skier, and tourist had already booked ahead of you apparently. 
“Uh, miss?” A voice called from behind you right as you were about to step outside into the cold evening. 
You turned to look and it was the owner of the motel. The same man who had just turned you down because he had no space left to accommodate you. He looked apologetic as he approached you. 
“Hi.” You said, then patted your pockets quickly, “Did I forget anything on the counter?” 
“No.” The man smiled and shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry you can’t stay. But snowstorms in this area can be dangerous and deadly, and you wouldn’t survive the night if you slept in your car.” He pointed at the rented jeep you had parked right outside the motel. “But there’s a man who can help. His name’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes. He often helps out stranded hikers and stuff, and I already called him and asked if he had room and he said yes.” 
The motel owner proceeded to give you details about Bucky and how to get to his house. From what you’d just learnt, Bucky Barnes was a business mogul who preferred seclusion. He was wealthy, and lived alone in his luxurious cabin that, rumour has it, he built himself. He was in his early forties and had people running his businesses for him all over the world. He moved to this small town after living in lavish cities his entire life. He owned acres upon acres of land, so he was also the local lumberjack and spent his time manually taking down trees whenever anyone needed wood. 
“Don’t worry, miss,” The motel owner reassured you, with a kind smile. “Mr. Barnes is a nice guy. Everyone around here knows him. Just follow the directions I gave you and you’ll find his house not too far from here. It’s a wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest.” 
When you got back in your car, the first thing you did was google the man really quickly. And the headlines, as you scrolled and read them, made your eyes widen a little each time. They were all basically just about what the motel owner already told you. But you needed to make sure it was all real. 
It was. Bucky Barnes was indeed a filthy rich business mogul who chose to come live all the way up here to get away from busy cities and journalists who always followed him around for quotes to put into their articles. 
And then, you began searching for pictures of this man. Your heart skipped a beat upon finding them. Pictures of him at fancy dinner parties, galas, charity events. Pictures of him shaking hands and clinking glasses with famous faces. Pictures of him on business magazine covers.
Pretty blue eyes, handsome face, and a kind smile. You noted the crinkles by his eyes whenever he smiled or laughed in pictures. Whenever he was photographed with a group of people, everyone seemed charmed by him. He seemed tall too. Oh well, safe to say the man was drop dead gorgeous. 
What if he was a serial killer and the people in this town directed victims to his house like he was some kind of twisted leader of this town?
You cringed at the exaggerated thought, shaking your head. 
Usually you weren’t one to trust strangers quickly but it was getting darker, the wind was beginning to howl and the cold was making you shiver even beneath all the layers you were wearing. The snowstorm was expected to last at least three days, so it was either trust a stranger for a few days or die. 
— 
You stopped your car in front of what the motel owner called a ‘wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest’. And he was right. 
The luxurious log home was situated higher up on the mountain, looking over the small town. Surrounded by towering trees, mainly pine, and the area around the house was foggier than the rest of the town. It would’ve seemed eerie if it weren’t for the warm, golden lights coming from inside the house. 
The house was indeed massive, with intricate carvings on the huge front doors. The roof was covered with dark, polished slate, and what gave the home a more contemporary touch were the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. It looked like the perfect place for someone who sought seclusion and comfort. 
Or a murderer, your brain added. You hissed at the thought, shoving it away as you got out of your jeep. It was beginning to drizzle, the wind howling louder than earlier. You walked up the front porch and knocked on the large doors. 
Before you could check out the porch, you heard loud footsteps approaching. Then, the front door opened. And on the other side stood a handsome man, slightly different from how he looked in the photographs you’d found online, but just as gorgeous. Well, the photographs were all taken from years ago so it made sense that he looked different. Bucky Barnes hadn’t been photographed ever since he moved here, according to the articles, and it was a shame because he was truly a work of art. 
“Hey,” He said with a deep, confident voice. “You must be the girl I just received a call about from the motel.” He opened the door wider. And for a couple of seconds, you didn’t move. 
You were frozen in place. He was… too pretty. That same handsome face as in the photographs, except he had more facial hair now. And longer hair. So long in fact that he had to put it all up in a messy bun on top of his head. A few strands escaped the bun and fell on either side of his face, making him look beautiful in a rugged way. 
You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander for just a second. He was just as tall as you imagine, but slightly more muscular than he seemed in the pictures. The white t-shirt he was wearing clung to him like a second skin, the jeans clung to his thighs in a way that should be illegal. 
You quickly looked up and cleared your throat before you got caught ogling. “Um, hi Mr. Barnes. I’m sorry for–,” 
He cut you off politely, “There’s no need to apologise,” He signalled for you to come in. And as you walked into his home he said, “And please, call me Bucky.” 
You smiled at him as you stood near the entrance, waiting for him to shut the door. When he turned to you, he asked for your name and asked what you were doing here. While you answered, he led you further into the magnificent house. 
If you thought it was beautiful from the outside, the interior was absolutely breathtaking. Spacious, with high ceilings. Most things inside were wooden, except for the rugs and the plush sofas. It was an open concept, and you could see the more farm-style kitchen from the living room area and it was just as pretty as the rest of the house. The more you looked around, the more you fell in love with the interior. Elegant curved staircase which led upstairs, massive fireplace, accents of stone and metals everywhere. It looked like a lot of thought went into building this home. 
“This looks like a dream.” You commented, standing in the middle of the living room and taking it all in. The owner looks like a dream too. You sighed at the sound of your inner thoughts. It was true. 
Bucky smiled, looking proud. “It took some years to build but…” He sighed, “It’s worth it.” 
You smiled at him, noticing the crinkles by his eyes as he smiled. Fuck, this man was beautiful. 
“Give me your keys, I’ll bring your bags in, then I can show you to your room.” He extended his hand out, waiting for you to drop your keys into his palm. 
“Oh.” Your face got all hot when you realised you’d just walked into his home empty handed. You’d forgotten your bags in the jeep. “I can go get it, it’s–,” 
“No, I’ll get it,” He cut you off again, stepped closer and took the keys from your hand. “It’s getting bad out there.” Then he walked away. 
And you shamelessly watched him leave. His back muscles moved and shifted under the tight shirt as he walked and you felt a shiver travel down your spine. Think about how those warm, hard muscles would feel under your fingertips… 
Shit. This man was being kind to you and here you were being a pervert. 
Bucky brought your bags in, all four of them. Carried them through the front door like they weren’t heavy at all. Well, he cuts down trees for fun so maybe he’s used to carrying heavier things. 
He showed you to one of the many guest bedrooms he had. And the room was just as beautiful and perfect as the rest of the home. King-sized bed, large chest drawer, private bathroom which was fully stocked with toiletries. Large windows, and a small balcony which overlooked the dense forest outside. 
“Well then, I’ll leave you to unpack and make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so. See you downstairs.” He left with yet another smile which made your heart skip a beat. 
You found yourself making your way downstairs after a long, warm shower. You wanted to unpack after your shower but then the smell of dinner cooking forced you out of the room. You followed the delicious scent of what seemed like pasta sauce, sniffing the air quietly until you made your way into the gorgeous kitchen. With an even more gorgeous man in it. 
“There you are,” Bucky smiled at you as you approached the large kitchen island which was also the dining table. “Everything okay with your room?” He asked, stirring some kind of sauce in a pan before resuming chopping some other thing. He looked so comfortable in his kitchen, it was endearing. 
“Yeah, everything’s good.” You answered, lingering by the kitchen counter awkwardly, “You need help with something?” 
“Sure, if you want.” Bucky nodded and pointed at the other side of the kitchen with his knife, and said, “Can you be a doll and grab us a red wine from the cellar?” 
You froze for a quick second at the sound of ‘doll’. It was sweet, but the way it sounded from his deep, smooth voice… you cleared your throat again before your thoughts got inappropriate, turning around and heading for the cellar because of course he had a wine cellar. 
After grabbing what you hoped was a nice wine, you made your way back to the kitchen and found Bucky plating pasta into two plates. He had a slight frown on his face as he focused on the plates. If there was anything you had noticed about Bucky it was that he was very detail oriented. 
Bucky’s frown disappeared the moment he looked up from the plates and saw you standing there. “Hope you like pasta and cheese.” He winked with a maddeningly handsome smile. 
“I do.” You smiled back, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as you handed him the wax sealed bottle of wine. For a brief moment, his hand brushed against yours and you could’ve sworn it felt like you’d been electrocuted. 
A strange shiver danced down your spine as you took a seat at the table and watched Bucky break the seal, uncork the bottle and pour it into two glasses before pouring the rest into a large decanter. 
All that wood chopping did him good. The man was muscular in all the right places. But his hands… oh his hands. Large, veiny. Imagine those hands all over– 
“So, tell me about yourself.” He said, taking a seat across from you. “And what are you doing on this icy mountain?” 
The conversation flowed perfectly. You told Bucky about how you were travelling to all the places you wanted to see before you moved back home, and he told you all about his life here. He said he liked the peace and quiet. Even the snowstorms, he grew to love them. 
By the time your plates and the decanter were empty, the two of you were laughing and exchanging life stories like you were old friends catching up. 
“So wait,” You chuckled, “You built this entire place out of spite?” 
Bucky nodded, laughing as well. “Well, I guess. My friend Sam came to visit when I told him I bought some land out here and he said ‘Well what are you gonna do here, Buck? You can’t just build a house in the middle of nowhere and become a lumberjack providing wood to the locals.’ and I thought, ‘Wait, that’s not a bad idea’, then I did exactly what Sam said.” 
You laughed, the wine made everything funnier. Bucky’s cheeks were now pink, his lips stained due to the wine and you couldn’t look away from him. Fuck, he really was gorgeous. He must have changed before dinner because he was no longer wearing that tight white shirt. He was wearing loose, beige coloured loungewear and looked just as mouth-watering. His hair was just as messy, but made him look effortlessly handsome. 
You eye-fucked him so more before realising that he was checking you out too, and neither of you had said a word for the past minute or two. But it wasn’t awkward. His blue eyes stared into yours and you were suddenly too aware of the thick tension in the air. 
The way he licked his lips, the way he toyed with the stem of his wine glass, the way his hand–
Bucky cleared his throat and looked away first. You tried to blink away the tension too but it remained. Then Bucky asked, “So, you have a boyfriend or something waiting for you at home?” He gave you a playful smirk. 
Oh? 
You shook your head, “Nope. What about you? You came all the way here to live in seclusion, are you running from an ex or something?” 
Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that.” 
That tension came back again, filling the air like smoke. You couldn’t ignore it. Neither could he, given how he fidgeted in his seat. 
This is wrong. Isn’t it? 
He was being kind enough to offer you shelter and you were being inappropriate. So before you did something you might regret, you said, “It’s late. I should head to bed. I drove all day and…” You trailed off, looking away and avoiding his eyes. 
“Yeah, yeah of course.” He said quickly, getting up from his seat. He went to reach for your plate but you grabbed it first. 
“Oh I’ll load up the dishwasher, don’t worry.” You moved before he could stop you, grabbing your plate and then his. Then the wine glasses and everything else. 
You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you carefully arranged everything in the rack before turning it on. You washed your hands, and wiped it on a tea towel while turning to leave but Bucky’s heated stare stopped you. 
There he was, leaning against the kitchen island and looking even more yummy than the dinner he made. You were glad you had the tea towel in your hands otherwise you wouldn’t know what to do. 
Luckily Bucky spoke up first, “If I had known you were coming I would’ve made dessert.” 
Such a simple sentence yet it sounded like he’d whispered some dirty, filthy secret in your ear the way your body came alive. You refrained from clenching your thighs together. His voice was lower, deeper but just as smooth and it was driving you crazy just imagining how this man must sound in bed. 
And now you were jealous of all the people who had had the chance of hearing what he sounded like, moaning and grunting, whispering out of breath… fuck. 
“Uh…” You struggled to find your words, now that the image of him naked in bed wouldn’t leave your head, “That’s alright. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth anyway.” 
You didn’t know when you moved, but you found yourself standing closer to Bucky now. He turned to face you completely and there were mere inches between your bodies. You felt… hot. Maybe it was the wine, but you were almost certain it was because of the way Bucky looked at you. Like he’d devour you if he could. You had sensed tension between you and other people before, but it had never been this strong. 
“Shame,” He muttered under his breath, his hand coming up to gently touch your face. “I happen to like something sweet before bed.” His voice dropped to a whisper. 
All you could focus on was the way he was touching your face. Gently, like you were made of glass. His hand was warm, but rough. You let out a shaky breath as you wondered how his rough hands would feel all over you– 
“Go to bed.” He said in a voice that made you tingle all over. He didn’t let go of your face. His thumb caressing your cheek, and his eyes staring into your soul. 
You blinked, wondering if you misheard. “What?” You asked softly, leaning into his touch subtly, obviously not wanting to move. 
“Go to bed, doll.” He repeated, still not letting go of your face. 
You frowned slightly, “But–,” 
He cut you off by placing a gentle finger over your lips. His eyes couldn’t look away from where his finger touched your mouth. He leaned in a little, then said, “We shouldn’t.” 
“Why not?” You asked, lips brushing against his finger as you spoke. 
He gave you a soft smile and said, “I should be a good host, not seduce you.” 
You shrugged, “Well I’m nice and seduced, now what do we do?” 
He chuckled, leaning in until his nose brushed against the side of your neck. His simple touches were driving you crazy. 
“You know what happens when there’s a snowstorm in this town, doll? It lasts for days,” He whispered, lazily kissing your neck. “And by the time that’s over, the roads are completely blocked. And this is a small town so it takes a while before the roads are functional again.” 
Your heart fluttered, your body felt too hot and yet you shivered. You gently pulled away to look at him. “So you’re saying I’m stuck with you here for days?” You couldn’t help the smirk on your face. 
He caught the hopeful tone in your voice. Bucky nodded. “And if I touch you right now,” He whispered, cupping your face in his large, rough hands, “I’m not sure I’ll let you leave my bed at all for the next coming days.” 
It was risky because as beautiful as he was, you didn’t know Bucky. But you had never wanted someone this much before. This felt like a new kind of longing and need. You didn’t care what was right, ethical, or risky. “Then don’t.” 
That did it. 
Bucky stopped thinking why he shouldn’t and instead pressed his lips to yours, kissing you like he was tasting his favourite dessert. His tongue easing your own as he tasted you leisurely. “We’re sure about this?” He asked, breathlessly. 
“Yes,” You whispered against his mouth, gasping as his hands trailed up and down your body, sliding under your sweater and fondling your breasts. “We are.” 
Bucky smiled into the kiss, then spoke again. “Aren’t I too old for you, doll?” 
You chuckled, your own hands wandering and sliding up and down his muscular back. You wanted nothing more than to just take off that comfy hoodie he was wearing. “Oh, what’s a decade or two?” You murmured. 
Bucky’s hands dropped down to your waist, caressing your skin, fingers threatening to slip past the waistband of your sweatpants. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. The storm was picking up outside and it would surely drown out all your cries, not that there were any neighbours to hear to begin with. 
“Will you be good for me?” He whispered, kissing down your face as his fingers slowly dipped into your sweatpants. One hand held you at the waist while the other inched dangerously close to where you craved him the most. 
His touch, his words, it was all too much. “I’ll be good,” You replied, your hands sliding under his hoodie to finally touch him, exploring and curious. His body was incredible to the touch, hard muscles and warm skin. 
He finally slipped his hand into your underwear, hissing as he found you dripping wet. He chuckled against your skin as he kissed and licked your throat, “How long have you been this wet, doll?” He asked, sounding cocky. 
You gasped when you felt him sliding a finger inside you, gently. “Since you opened the front door.” You answered honestly. 
Bucky laughed, his warm breath tickling your ear. “That long, huh? I’m sorry.” He cooed, “Let me take care of it for you.” 
You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth when you felt him slide another finger inside you, fucking you slowly with both now. Bucky kissed your neck, your face, your mouth. Licking and biting your skin as he pleased while he finger-fucked you until you were right on the edge. 
“Get up here.” He murmured, pulling his fingers and hand away and pointed at the kitchen island. 
You didn’t move immediately. Probably because your brain was all foggy from his kisses and his touch that it took a second for you to register and process his words. 
Bucky smirked and repeated. “Come on. Take your clothes off and get up here.” 
You did as he asked. Taking off your sweater and sweatpants, followed by your underwear and revealing your bare body. Bucky took a second, letting his fingers trail up and down your stomach and chest before he pointed at the island again. 
“Up.” 
You hopped on the edge with a giggle, hissing upon feeling the cold surface against your warm skin. Once sat on the edge, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. Bucky smiled as he placed his hands on you again, your arms wrapping around his neck as you stared into his ocean blue eyes. 
“Such a pretty doll,” He whispered, placing his hands on your thighs and spreading them further apart. He looked down at your wet folds, mindlessly dragging a finger up and down your slit, making you shiver all over again. “Now, lie down.” He said. 
You wasted no time. You unwrapped your arms from around him and carefully laid down flat on your back, hissing at the cold again. 
Bucky’s eyes trailed up and down your body, his hands caressing your skin. From your thighs, to your hips, to your breasts where he pinched your nipples, making you cry out again. 
“Can I taste you, doll?” He asked, pulling your legs up to the edge and spreading your thighs as far apart as they would go. The island was high enough where he only had to bend down for his mouth to touch your heated skin. Lips brushing against your lower abdomen, he asked again, “Can I?” 
Your brain was a mess. Yet you managed to mumble a firm, “Yes…” 
With his mouth mere inches away from your throbbing clit, he said, “Keep your legs up just like that for me, okay?”
You nodded, looking down in between your legs as he leaned in and pressed his mouth against your wetness. He looked up immediately, holding your stare as he slid his tongue against, the roughness of his beard against your softness was driving you insane. 
You held yourself up on your elbows as you watched him eat you out. The warmth of his mouth, the slow caress of his hands against your inner thighs, the intense look in his eyes as he tasted you. It made you feel like you were floating. 
It was too much, it was not enough. You wanted him, you wanted more. 
“You taste sweeter than any dessert, doll.” He whispered, kissing around your wet clit before sucking on it hard enough to make you come, your back arched off the surface, riding his face as you cried out in pleasure. “But it’s not enough.” He admitted, pulling away and kissing his way up your body. “Is it?” 
You barely caught your breath, your heart racing as you laid there in front of him. 
“Get down, and bend over for me.” He spoke in that enchanting voice of his which put you under his spell so easily. 
You moved immediately this time. He was still fully dressed and you didn’t have a single article of clothing on and somehow that made you feel hotter. 
You bent over the island in front of him, your front pressed against the edge. You placed your hands down and turned to look at him over your shoulder. You watched how he grabbed your hips and spread your legs, leaning closer to kiss up your spine. 
“So beautiful,” He whispered against the back of your neck. “Now, are you gonna let me fuck you? Hmm? Are you gonna let me put both of us out of our misery, doll?” 
“Yes.” 
“Good.” 
He pulled his hands away from you for a moment, lowering his trousers enough to free his cock. You wished you could see it properly. You wished you could kneel down in front of him and take him into your mouth and– 
You gasped out loud when you felt the tip of his hard, warm cock pressing against you. Nothing mattered in that moment, not when he was gently rubbing his cock up and down your wet slit, parting your folds. 
You squirmed against the hard surface under you, pushing back into him in need. “Please…” You whispered, desperate for him. You had never been this needy for a man before. 
You braced yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming. 
Slowly, Bucky slid inside you, filling you up and stretching you out as he did. He let out a sigh of pleasure once he was seated deep inside you, gripping on your hips tightly as he gave you both a moment to get used to it. 
You felt so full, like you’ve never been before. So full, you could barely form a coherent thought. All you knew was you wanted more. 
You let out a quiet moan as he started fucking you gently. 
“You feel so fucking good,” He hissed, “So warm and tight for me.” Bucky whispered, fucking into you with a pace that made you want to scream and shout because it felt so good. 
Each time he filled you up, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot and you moaned as your walls clenched around him. 
“Poor little doll,” He cooed, “This will be your new routine for the next few days now. Just getting fucked, and caressed all the time while the storm rages on outside.” 
His thrusts got harder. Your moans got louder. His words made you clench around him even more. 
“Look at you,” He growled. “Pretty girl letting a older man she barely knows fuck her like she’s a needy little whore.” His voice was deeper, and as menacing as his words were his touch was just as soft and careful. His fingers circled your clit gently while he pounded into you from behind. “Would you bend over for any man, doll? Hmm? Whoever offered you shelter from the storm, is this how you’d repay him? By letting him fuck your needy little cunt?” 
You couldn’t help but cry out, moaning in pleasure as his words took you higher. You did have a little bit of a degrading kink, who didn’t? But never had anyone ever hit the spot like Bucky did. And given how your wetness dripped down his fingers, he could tell. 
Bucky chuckled darkly. “Does that turn you on, doll? Knowing that I can selfishly take from you now that you’re stuck here with me?” His other hand came up to grab you by the back of your neck as he whispered into your ear, fucking into you hard enough that your body slammed into the kitchen island with each thrust. “Does it turn you on knowing you’ll have to be my little slut for the next few days? That you’ll have to spread those legs for me and let me fuck you whenever I want to?” 
“Yes…” You whimpered as he pounded deeper into you. You didn’t want him to stop. Ever. 
He hissed into your ear, “Is that what you are now? My little slut?” He chuckled, rolling his hips in a way that had you whimpering and squirming in pleasure beneath him. “Well, what a perfect way of repaying me for my kindness, hmm?” 
“Please, Bucky…” You whimpered. 
Bucky hummed, kissing your warm skin, “I know, pretty girl. I know, it feels good, doesn’t it?” 
His words made you feel feverish, and wild. Lust-drunk more than ever. You moaned as he sped up again, a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in between your hips. 
You whined, “I’m gonna come.” You cried, and you were pretty sure you had tears streaming down your face. 
“Come for me, then. Come all over my cock, doll.” 
Your brain was a foggy mess after that. You came hard though, clenching around him violently as you did. 
“Fuck… look at you,” He whispered, his cock pounding harder into you until he came as well, spilling all over your lower back as he panted in exhaustion. “You okay, doll?” 
You nodded slowly, pressing your forehead down against the cool surface and catching your breath. 
“Come on,” His voice was softer now as he pulled you up and held you against him. Your back to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling your neck and leaving soft kisses all over your neck and the side of your face. “Let’s get you in bed, yeah?” 
You asked in a shaky voice, “And then can we fuck again?” 
Bucky chuckled, hugging you tightly before saying, “Yes we can, pretty girl.”
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