#some days i do kind of wish i was just a doll like i think my mother wanted

[kissforyouu]

too much ☆

pairing : sugar daddy!jungkook x fem!reader

genre : smut , fluff

warnings : sugar daddy x sugar baby relationship , implied age gap (reader 20s, jk 30s) , size kink, BIGGGG DDDD (9 inches) , choking , groping , d riding , daddy kink , hickeys , slapping , creampie , panty sniffing , use of petnames (angel, doll, baby, sweetheart) , he talks u thru it , squirting , anal penetration , slight dacryphilia , he gets off to her orgasming , the whole point is he’s too big for her

Today was the day.

You’re so determined to do it. You can do it. Yes, you can.

You were fully prepared, laying on your sugar daddy's expensive ass master bed, wrapped in white lace like a little present for him to unwrap. You looked as if you were a sweet angel fallen into his room filled with all things black and the only thing light being the white walls. And the little parts of you you'd leave hanging around. like makeup, books, clothes, etc. etc.

Too excited, that's what you were. but also nervous, in a way, but you had one goal for tonight. And that was to fit your sugar daddy's cock inside and ride him.

There was a very evident size difference between the two of you. Him being 6ft tall already gave it away, but to add to the list you stood at 5'2ft. He was big in every possible area you could think of, even his cock was massive. fuck. His palm could easily cover your asscheek perfectly without any flesh slipping out. He was a tall successful man with broad shoulders and a muscular body. Thick thighs, big arms—everything you liked in a man.

In addition to that, he was rich. So so rich that he offered you to be his sugar baby. You both met at the mall. So excitedly you went through all the cute dresses you could wear, but definitely not afford. You were still in college. No further explanation needed.

“Ah! this, er, maybe that? don't know!” You were on facetime with your friend, reviewing all the cute dresses you would buy if you had the money. Delusional!

“Nah, nah, nah, the purple one with butterflies would look so good on you!” Your friend squeals, making you squeal back. You might be making too much noise in ths store, but you didn't care.

“You know what would look good with this dress? a cute cardigan and I’d pair this up with some gold hoops."

“Hmm, sounds really pretty”, your friend answered.

“Wish i had the money though...” there was a pout formed on your lips when you look back at the prize tag.

Somehow, your friend ended up having to leave the call due to some work. You end the call, ready to exit the store with absolutely no bags whatsoever. But someone, a man, stops you.

And then he asks you the most out of the blue question ever.

“Want me to buy you that dress?”

That was how it all started. He offered you to become his sugar baby after a full day spent at the mall of him buying you random things. At first, you said no. But he gave you time to decide and also kept sending you gifts over and over. At the end, you agreed. To be fair, you expected him to be the most obscene, rude, horrid man ever. But he's actually...pretty nice. sweet. caring.

Your relationship was 50/50. All you had to do was to take care of that man emotionally, shower him with love which you'll gladly do and also have bomb ass sex with him and he'll pay off all your bills and buy you a shit ton of things in return. The sex wasn't even a topic brought up at first, he didn't need that kind of favour. Just needed a pretty baby to spoil who'll love him in return. The sex just happened on a random friday night. Ever since, you've been getting the best dick you've ever had in your entire life. But there was one problem.

He was too big.

And you were too small.

Sure, the sex was so good and he always made sure to make you cum at least twice each time. It was so good that you couldn't even count the stars rotating around your head each time you orgasmed. But one thing that always managed to bother you...was he satisfied? Because of the obvious size difference, it was hard to fit him inside. Most of the time you’d end up stopping him because it hurt. He won't even be fully in when that happens. Although he always reassured you that he's far more than satisfied with you, you still wouldn't buy it.

But today, you’re going to do it. Gonna make all of him fit inside and give him the orgasm he deserves.

You laid on your back with your eyes fixed on the pattern of the ceiling, feet kicking in the air as you mindlessly waited for him to return home.

But a flirtatious whistle catches you off guard. you immediately rise back up from the bed, eyes darting to the man leaning against the door frame looking at you with a smug look.

“Jungkook!” you squealed.

“Was wondering where you were.” He makes his way towards you.

“I was here.” you mumble.

“I can see...” he snorts.

He lifts you up to sit on the bed by his hands on your waist, then touching your bare stomach, right above the little lace skirt you were wearing.

“For me?” there's a little smug look on his face.

“Who else would it be for?” there’s a sly smirk on your face, batting your lashes as you spoke.

"hah, you little minx" he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, soon cupping your chin and raising your head up.

"when did you buy this?" his thumb teasingly caresses your lower lip.

"mmm, last week. bought it when i went shopping with mina..."

jungkook snickers, thumb now poking in between your lips. instinctively, you open your mouth for him to easily slide his thumb in between. you let out a muffled giggle, swirling your tongue around his thumb.

you both had wide grins on eachother's faces, fully aware of where this was heading.

you choke on his entire thumb the moment he pushes it all in, his thumb and a part of his hand, stuffing your mouth full. with a little bit of drool slipping out of your mouth, you close your eyes with a hum, but jungkook pulls his hand out.

hurriedly, with a satisfied grin, jungkook begins to unbuckle his belt. but before he could move any further, you were quick enough to stop him, bringing confusion to his face.

"huh?"

"kook, the bed. get on the bed, please." you request.

jungkook raises his eyebrow as your unusual request, but still obeying. he removes his shoes first, then gets on the bed, legs spread and leaning against the headboard as he waits for your next move. you couldn't help but let out a small giggle, excitedly making your way to sit in between his legs.

jungkook, in the other hand, admist his confusion, still couldn't hold back the little smile that threatened to come out. let's just say...this relationship was more than just being a sugar daddy and sugar baby. for him, at least. he'd like to think so.

you push some of your hair back, brushing it along the way and letting it fall down your shoulders as you made yourself comfortable between his legs. pretty, jungkook thinks.

"what're you going to do?" he asks, voice as gentle as ever.

you let out a long hum, fingers struggling to open the zipper of his trousers. he was rock hard, so it was hard to get the zip down. ugh.

jungkook chuckles at your struggles, "want me to take it off for you?"

you shake your head in denial. no. you were gonna do everything tonight with no help from him. with the help of the strong mentality you've set on getting goal done, you manage to successfully pull the zipper off.

you sigh, relieved, but jungkook just laughs at you, almost mockingly.

"what?" you ask.

"nothing, baby, 'just love watching you trying to please me. you're gonna take my cock tonight? hm?" the corner of his lip curves up.

"hmmmm, yes" you're moaning.

jungkook snorts, as if he's not believing you. but he takes off his trousers and boxers, leaving his lower body bare. you're gulping while staring at his erect cock, finally free from the restraints of his white calvein klein boxers. he's already leaking precum.

you lean forward, taking his fat cock in your hands, giving it a few pumps. smearing the precum all over the tip, you use it as lube, pumping his cock again. it barely fits in your hands. you have to use both your hands to hold it.

your ass was up, back slightly arched as you took his cock in your mouth. a muffled moan immediately escapes you, as you slowly slowly take him in deeper in your mouth inch by inch. fuck, was it hard. suddenly getting the urge to cough, you quickly pull him off of your mouth and turn your head around to cough.

"shit, you okay, doll?"

nodding your head in embarrassment, you take hold of his cock again to leave kitten licks all over it. you begin by licking the tip of his cock, swiping your tongue over the small alleyway of his cockhead several times. jungkook hisses at the feeling, eyes droopy. happily, you're licking all over his shaft as if it's your favourite ice cream.

you lick a long stripe up his shaft again, then circling your tongue on the dent in his cockhead. pulling away to spit on his cock, you rub your saliva all over the base with both your hands, then taking his cock in your mouth again.

you sink it down your throat further, slobbering all over his cock, saliva gushing out of your mouth and covering his cock full. his hand instinctively lands on the back of your head, caressing your hair and giving your scalp a subtle massage.

you were so beautiful, he thought.

slowly, you move your head up and down his length, sucking his cock in your mouth. his cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat, causing him to let out a few grunts from here and there. he was surprisingly very vocal during sex. and that just got you even wetter.

"mhm, that's right. taking my cock well, huh? taught you good?" his free hand taps your cheek, feeling his cock against your cheek. your cheeks were hollow, your face felt hot. it was obviously heating up, and so was your pussy. jungkook's hand leaves the back of your head to touch your other cheek, both hands holding up your face now as you took him in your mouth. he grunts, releasing another breath.

you slurp up your saliva on his cock only to spit it back, swiping your tongue on his base. you bob your head on his cock, enjoying all of his moans to the fullest. his thumbs swipe over your cheeks repeatedly, wiping away the small tears that are falling down.

"bet you're soaking right now, hm? fhuck—i can imagine how pretty your panties look right now. drenched and sticking to your pussy? isn't that right, angel?"

you hurry to nod your head, still sucking him in your mouth. fuck, you were so cockdrunk. jungkook knew exactly how to get you riled up. the small touches and caresses, holding your face and hair, he knew you liked that. of course he did. he knew your body like the back of his hand.

"yeah?" he acknowledges your nodding, petting your head. you try to best to flash him a smile, moaning in between. "that's right." his palm lays flat on top of your head again as he pushes your head back down on his cock, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat again.

you're pretty sure it's gonna bruise there.

up! down! up! down! you go, warming his cock up by the insides of your mouth. your right hand is wrapped around the rest of his cock that you can't fit while the other squeezed his balls.

the harder jungkook pushed the more you gagged on his cock. it felt suffocating, but you knew jungkook would never do anything to hurt you. you're whining, clawing his thighs. your eyes rolled to the back of your head followed by a series of cusses coming from jungkook's mouth.

"ohhh, oh, hah, fuck, fuck." his head is thrown back against the headboard of the bed. he lets out a whiny little moan, spilling his load into your mouth. jungkook wipes away your tears once you slip his cock out of your mouth with a pop, reassuring you on how well you did.

"you did so well, angel. took my cock so good." he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail to raise your head back up. you looked so fucked out just from his dick in your mouth. it was definitely a huge ego boost for him. as much as he loved seeing you pretty and dolled up for him, this look on you has got to be one of his favourites. naked, sweaty and fucked out from his dick. you were so pretty.

"hmm...", he groans, hand sliding up from your left breast to the back of your neck, pulling you on top of him so that you'd be sitting on his lap. "liked having a mouth full of cock?" he grins mockingly, left arm folded on his back as he rests back on it. you nod your head, eyes still closed. the man chuckles, wiping away the drool on your face and chest. he makes sure to wipe his hand on your asscheek also, then slapping it afterwards.

"good now?" he checks up on you.

"yes. all good." you flash him a toothy smile with a thumbs up. jungkook smiles, tongue poking his cheek. "c'mere." he pulls you closer by your waist and securely wraps his right arm around you. your cheek was resting against his peck while he caressed your hair, giving your scalp a few massages here and there.

jungkook trails kisses from the back of your ear down to your neck, darting his tongue out to lick some areas known to make you moan. "let me take care of you, doll."

your sugar daddy gently lays down your body on the bed, hovering over you quickly. he takes a moment to stare down at you, a stupid little smile brightening up his face. you raise your eyebrow, quick to pick up on that. "what? why're you smiling like that?" you ask.

"why not?" jungkook snickers, he pinches the tip of your cheek, thumb gently caressing it afterwards. you feel your cheeks heat up. leaning into his touch, you smile a little.

jungkook lifts you hips up, angling his cock with your entrance and you almost— almost forget your plan. immediately, you halt and place your hand on his chest with a shake of your head.

"why? something wrong?"

you nod your head, gently pushing the man back.

"what're you doing?" you shush him up with your index finger pressed against his lips and shaking your head. jungkook raises his eyebrow.

"i wanna ride you."

jungkook just stares at you as if you've just told him the craziest thing ever, eyes wide as well. stop. this is making you feel embarrassed. what if he just laughs at you?

"what, you're gonna ride me now?" jungkook couldn't help but laugh a little, but immediately shutting himself up when he sees the frown on your face. "okay, sorry, sorry."

"yeah, i am." your voice came out almost inaudible. you felt so small in his large presence. with his big eyes boring into yours, you feel put on the spot. like. like everyone's looking at you holding a mic to your mouth expecting you to talk.

the corner of his lip slightly twitches up, then he breaks into a smile. big hands land on your hips and effortlessly drags you closer to him, he then lifts your chin up, thumb swiping over your lower lip. "sure you won't hurt yourself?"

"yes, daddy. not gonna hurt." jungkook chuckles at the nickname, finding it amusing. you both never really used the name daddy, just once or twice. although, you can't deny how the nickname gets you feeling sort of...thrilled? aroused? jungkook could say the same.

"daddy, huh?" he clicks his tongue.

you nod your head with a small hum, raising your body up to sit on your knees. "lie down, please."

jungkook listens to your request with a teasing smirk on his face. hah, you wanted to fuck that smirk off of him soooooo bad. he lies down on the bed with two pillows supporting his back and makes himself comfortable. he raises his eyebrow watching your puzzled expression, trying really hard to read your face. his legs are spread, fat cock rock hard and leaking that precum you love so much. you gulp down the drool that was already pooled up in your mouth, eyes darting between jungkook's eyes and his cock.

"what're you waiting for? come fuck me, girl."

and you do.

gliding yourself over his muscular thighs, you settle yourself on top of him, your thighs on each side of his waist. you avert your gaze down to his massive cock, twitching with pre cum leaking from the tip, impatiently waiting for you. you take a long deep breath before raising your body over his thighs, then angling your pelvis over his cock. wrapping your hand around his base, you teasingly rub the tip on your folds. jungkook tugs on his lower lip as your pussy twitches against his tip, both your juices slightly mixed with eachother. you raise your hips up again and this time, a string of wetness appears connecting your hole and his reddened tip.

"fucking nasty. you're soaking." jungkook couldn't help but reach out to touch your pussy one more time. you groan once his thumb harshly rubs on your clit while his fingers sunk into your pussy for a moment. he pulls them out before you could even enjoy the feeling, ending it with a slap on your clit. "go on. get on this dick."

jungkook was such a slut.

the moment you finally sink yourself in, or try to, both of you let out a soft gasp, taking in how genuinely tight it felt.

"god, kook...mh", your chest heaved up and down as you balanced yourself, still not fully sunk in his dick yet. you move your hand down there to spread your pussy lips a little further apart, then pushing yourself down a little further.

jungkook stayed silent watching you struggle for a few seconds before deciding to step in. "you okay? want help?" his fingers caressed from your waist to hips, trying to soothe you. you whine, frustrated, ugh—

"i can't. can't do this—mh, too big!"

you give up.

jungkook clicks his tongue, clearly disappointed. he shakes his head, disapproving your decision. "come on, baby. 'know you can do this. you're a hardworking girl. it's okay."

"no, no, no, ahh, can't." you shake your head in denial.

"tsk. no. you're gonna do this. slap my thigh if it's too much, m?" a tear escapes your eye as you finally agree to proceeding to pursue your initial goal. jungkook decides to lend a helping hand by rubbing your clit in various patterns slowly to get you wetter and make it easier for you. "better not cum."

"hmm...", you moan out.

with your throbbing clit being rolled in between the tip of the big man's fingers, you sink your hips down his much bigger dick, eyes widening at the newfound sensation.

"SHIT— oh, mm!" his tip hit your g spot, causing your entire body to tremble a little. the action makes jungkook laugh cockily, his lips forming into a mocking pout.

"gonna cum already? my dick only had to get in? you're that needy?" he slaps your cheeks lightly. you give him nothing but a small enticing glare. jungkook groans and taps your hips as a signal for you to get moving.

your knees buried deep into the bed sheets, you steady yourself before guiding your hips up and down slowly. honestly, it hurt. your walls were so mushy and tight, firmly gripping the base of his cock.

"ah, loosen up, angel. if not, you'll make me cum just from that tightness—shiii."

you try to loosen up your pussy hole, relaxing your entire body but ugh, you just can't do it. with a whine, you continue thrusting yourself downwards on his cock. jungkook adjust himself to you fully— your pussy felt soooo full. so fucking stuffed. his tip reached your womb. you didn't even know having him this deep could be possible. it hurt so bad, yet it felt so good. jungkook's hand reaches behind your back to grab the flesh of your ass and mold it into his liking, slapping and pulling on the flesh.

by now you've learnt how to sit on his dick fully inside. and now, you're doing to fuck it.

"h-haaa—" a breathy moan surpasses through as you begin riding his dick, your walls tightly squeezing in his fat base. your moves were slow and careful, careful trying not to hurt yourself too much. it already hurt so bad, no—burnt. your pussy felt as if it was burning, overwhelmed by the size of his dick. you squeeze your eyes shut, suddenly remembering why you've never tried fully taking him in. cause your cunt was too small! and fuck! does it hurt!

still, you try, brushing away the second thoughts. the skin slapping noises grew louder each thrust as you let his cock hit deeper and deeper areas. jungkook was in pure ecstasy. the most attractive woman he's ever seen (he would never never reveal that to you) is riding his dick. he loved every second of it.

his hands cup your tits through the sheer fabric of your skimpy lingerie, thumbing your nipples hard. he could feel your nipples grow harder, he just could. which drove him crazy. jungkook's thumbs swipe on your nipples, swirling the bud around too. the bridge of his nose brush against your collarbone as he leans his face closer to your neck, whispering sweet nothings.

"i fucking love watching you struggle like this." you grip onto his wrist tightly, twisting it around with your nails digging deep into his skin and probably creating scars. thankfully for your wet slick, it progressively got easier for you to slide up and down.

"take this off. mm, now." his fingers toyed with the straps of your skimpy ass top, tugging on the fragile material and pulling on it. you groan, hurriedly taking off the annoying ass top and throwing it away to let it land on wherever.

you breasts were fully bare for him, big and juicy, nipples hard as fuck. you were such an eye candy. he loved—liked everything about you. so fucking hot. he could go insane.

your jaw falls open, shoulder pushed back and chest popped out as you rode his dick. such a pornographc sight. your tits bounced along with each of your jumps. puffy clit rubbing against his pelvis with each thrust of your hips, his dark pubic brushing against your clit, creating some sort of friction as well. fuuuck.

jungkook caresses your hips, fingertips also dancing across your asscheeks, bringing you a relaxing feeling amidst the heavy workout you're putting yourself through. you slam yourself onto his dick, pussy quite literally splitting into two. you've never fucked someone this hard. this is so crazy, you're actually taking him— you gasp, letting yourself feel out his dick fully.

fuckfuckfuck you could feel his dick tightly smuggled inside your chubby cunt, feeling out the tight clasp of your walls as you literally squeezed him shut. shit, you're scared he wouldn't be able to pull out even. you're squeezing him that tightly. you hold onto his broad shoulders, long manicured nails digging into the skin, probably—most probably leaving marks. you inhale in the musky scent he always has once he gets back from work. you loooveeee it.

"please, i—literally—like, fawwkkkk jungkook!" jungkook hisses, hands messily searching for the discarded dirty panties on the side of the bed. he finally finds them and brings them upto his nose to take a long sniff out of it. a looongg nasty sniff. "you're so dirty, daddy."

his eyes drift from the dirty material to yours in a second. he quickly dropped it off and snakes his arms from under your thighs to hoist you up the bed. you squeel in surprise, arms immediately wrapping around his neck for stability. jungkook looks at you from below, big doe eyes glistening at you as you stared back. you giggle a little once you feel his hand slap your asscheek and grab it again.

jungkook leans forward to envelope your lips in a sweet kiss. you sigh in content, kissing him back passionately as your tongues swirled on eachother. you both were eating out eachothers face so good. moving your heads rhythmically in sync while your nails scratched his back real good. you exchanged saliva, head tilting to various sides as you shared a sloppy messy kiss. so fucking hot.

"mmh, put it in...", you try to reach behind your back and grab his dick but jungkook beats you to it, swatting your hand away. he grips his cock, squeezing the red tip with a hiss. "inside me, daddy." his mind feels fuzzy as he slides his dick inside you again. this time, it enters pretty easy, much easier than before. well, since you're well lubricated and all. you both moan in sync, shoulders dramatically falling down as he fills you up again. you hug his muscular body, gliding up and down his dick once again. second time feels much better than last. shiiiit.

"you're so big. i—" you sigh deeply, whole cunt swallowing his fat dick. "hm, it slips in so easily now." you grunt into his neck, trying to adjust yourself. "yeah, cause you're slippery as shit."

"c'mon, sweetheart." he pats your back as you start over, again. you begin riding his dick once more, this time gripping onto the head of the bed and his head. "you know you're doing so good, yeah? never been more proud of you." you could feel the bone of his nose poke your neck as he inhales your sweaty scent in. jungkook presses tiny kisses all over your neck, down to your collarbone. little kisses all over your collarbone. little hickeys forming all over your collarbone ૮꒰ ⊃ ⸝⸝ ⊂ ꒱ྀིა

yeah you know what, maybe you overestimated yourself. fuck does this hurt. did your pussy get smaller or what. you were squeezing him so tight. so fucking tight.

"koo— haaarrd... 'm struggling." you grunt into his neck.

"lemme take over, then."

"wha—no. i'm fucking you." you refuse his offer quite literally right away.

"you're barely holding on. can't even keep my dick inside without moving around. hm?" he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, squeezing your cheeks together mockingly. he treated you as if you were a feeble little being who couldn't even complete the simplest task.

nothing simple about this dick.

he made sure his dick was perfectly tucked inside, ready to absolutely break you apart on it.

your pussy suddenly starts pulsating, clenching around his dick repeatedly. jungkook lets out a gruff moan, palm slapping against your waist.

"stop fucking clenching. you gonna cum, yeah? is that what this is?"

"mmmhm, i don't want to cum." you break into a whine into his shoulder. "'s okay, just let it out on me, yeah?" he sneaks his arm in between you guys and sticks his thumb out on your very swollen clit. you flinch once he starts rubbing your clit, and in no time, you cream his dick.

"fuck, no, i—i don't want to cum yet." you punch his arm and bite his shoulder, agitated that he just had to make you cum. "i wanted to make you cum first. fuck you." "too bad. i barely even moved."

"are you making fun of me?"

"maybe."

you tug on his hair and bite his arm as revenge.

"i haven't cum yet. did you forget?" he pulls on your hair.

"you know that i wanted to ride you." you huff,

"and you did."

"barely." you roll your eyes, snuggling closer into him, face nuzzled into his neck.

"yeah, my bad my dick's too big."

"you're so over the head."

"okay, but we both know i'm right."

"my vagina is burning."

jungkook pinches the top of your ass and flips you over so that you'd be laying on your back. the sudden movement catches you off guard as you yelp in surprise.

"ow! that hurt."

jungkook doesn't respond to you, but slowly, carefully, pulls his dick out of you. he's still rock hard. you're not surprised.

"you said you wanted to make me feel good, yeah?" he caresses the side of your face, moving away each and every hair sticking to your face. gentle kisses all over your face, cheek, nose, eyes—he suddenly stops, the eye contact between you two breaking the moment he looks away. your breath hitch, there's a tingling feeling all over your body, it felt like the tip of a feather gracing over your face.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Mhm.”

Jungkook squeezes the fat of your belly with a soft kiss on top and suddenly—he was so sly with it too—enters his dick inside your cunt again. “AH!”, you yelp out due to the sudden waves of pain and pleasure sent right from your swollen fucking pussy.

“Come on, girl, take it. I know you can—haah.”

He plunges his dick deep in you with a hard thrust and immediately going at it. He didn’t stop. No he did not. Jungkook rutted into your wet cunt like an animal in heat, desperate to hear the high pitch moans coming out of your swollen lips.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, back arched and gasps left your lips repeatedly. It hurt so bad. Your pussy was fucking burning. It hurt so bad that it felt so good. He’s never done this before. He’s never probably been inside you fully. You swore to the heavens above that your cunt was already torn apart. There was no way.

“Jungkook—mmhphhhhhhhhhttttt!!! It hurts so much! Stop, ah, fuck!”

You raise your legs up, slinking them around his toned sweaty fucking torso. Jungkook grabbed a handful of your meaty thighs, using the fat for support to cling onto you more.

“Please! Stopstopstopstop it hurts so much!”

You didn’t actually want him to stop. You would’ve used to the safe word if so, you and him both knew that very well.

Jungkook grunts in annoyance with a slap on your ass to shut you up.

“Shut up and take my fucking dick. You wanted this. Finish what you’ve started. Take my fucking dick like you said you would!”

He was so big.

“You’re a big girl made for taking big fucking cocks like mine, yeah?”

Without a warning, his palms slap against both your asscheeks before hoisting your entire body up into his arms. Jungkook had you on top of his thighs, carrying your entire weight on his arms as he thrusted from below. His thrusts were so harsh and aggressive with the intention of only wrecking your pussy apart. You were bounced on his cock like a ragdoll. He used you for his pleasure, letting his cock mold the insides of your pussy to the perfect shape that'll fit him always.

"I'm not letting this pussy go now. Hah", he rocks your body upwards again, letting you fall onto his. you cling onto his body for dear life, arms wrapped around his neck, breasts bouncing in front of his face. you could feel his balls slap against your ass repeatedly. they were wet, slimey and sticky. he spread the stickyness on his balls everywhere, constantly reminding you of the fact that he was deep inside you now. like, finally.

"da-ddy! i can't believe you're fucking me like t-this."

you close your eyes tight, your nails gripping onto jungkook's scalp as you let out a scream.

"please, oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD! i'm g'na- HAAH!"

jungkook recognizes the familiar high pitched sound you make, hand sneakily rubbing your puffy clit again. and as a cherry on top, he spreads your ass cheeks apart and sneaks his thumb in between to penetrate your neglected tight little hole. he rubs your hole and inserts the tip of his finger in, repeating the process after. You were so tight down there, considering the fact that you were still an ass virgin. He always said he was gonna take your ass sometime, but you always said no. This was your first time. Fuck.

The finger in your ass caught you off guard as you let out a shriek, your asshole immediately tightening at the sensation.

“Jung…hah. My ass—hhnmpht!”

He shushes you up with a kiss and got into work, rubbing your swollen little clit with his right hand and finger your tight asshole with his left hand, all while his cock absolutely ruined you from below.

“Stop! Too much! Too much! Too much!”

You slobber all over his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably as your entire body shiver and crumble against him. You didn’t have to tell Jungkook once, he knew you were just about to cum.

“Cum, baby. Let go. You’ve done amazing.” He fastens his pace on your clit, giving you just enough simulation.

“Ah! I’m g’na pee! FuckfuckfuckfuckSTOP!!”

You let out one more loud cry before aggressively trembly. Your pussy is so used and swollen and your ass hurts so much. Fuck. It didn’t take that long till your pussy starts squirting angrily. Your eyes widen, back arching as you let your pussy take full control of your body.

Jungkook pulls out of you for a brief moment to let you squirt wherever. His hand never left your clit though, continuing to rub at an increased speed. Your pussy convulses aggressively, squirting on everything and everywhere. The sheets behind you were fully drenched with your squirt and so was his dick, that was right under you.

“I’m sorry I’m making a mess all over your bed,” you cry into his shoulder, completely overwhelmed with everything that’s happening.

You’re still squirting. You don’t know if you’re actually squirting or just straight up pissing yourself on him. This was so embarrassing. Your face was so red. This is so humiliating fuckfuckfuck.

“I’m so”—you choke,“—embarrassed. Ahh, I’ve ruined everything.” You cry out, covering your face with your hands. Jungkook understood that this was an intense moment for you. You’ve squirted before, but never this hard. He soothes you by bringing you into his embrace, tracing patterns on your back to help you calm down.

You choke on your tears again. You were crying so much. You’ve never cried this much during sex before. As concerned he was for you, he was starting to admit he liked that sight. He liked it when you were crying out for him.

You let out the last bit of squirt on his cock, drenching him fully. Jungkook’s cock twitches, it’s angry head starting to let out spurts of cum.

Fuck, he couldn’t believe it. He was cumming. He was cumming so hard from just watching you orgasm. He was getting off to your orgasm.

“Fuck. Shit. Oh my god”, Jungkook groans. He throws his head backwards, letting his cum spurt out as you squeezed his balls. There was a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as his face changed into various expressions as he emptied his balls into your mouth.

You made sure to put your mouth on it and let his cum fall right onto your tongue, just how he liked it. And you also made sure to swallow it all, just how he liked it.

You were still getting off of your high as well, body still crumbled against his.

“It’s okay, babygirl”, Jungkook coos into your ear and soothingly rubs your pussy slowly with your palm till you calm down.

“It stings”, you whine.

“Hmm, I know, baby. Take a deep breath.”

You obey him, taking a deep breath as he wiped off your tears. You sniffle. Your pussy was still throbbing and hole gaping. Fuck. You’re gonna stay stretched like this for a while. He ripped you apart.

“My gorgeous girl. You did so well.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “I can’t believe I fucking came to you squirting”, he chuckles.

“I wanted you to cum in my pussy.” You whine, spreading your pussy lips apart once again.

“I know. But this is more than enough. You know I get off to your orgasms.” He swats your hand away.

“Let her rest.” Jungkook leans down to press a kiss to your swollen worn out pussy.

You cry out, scooting closer to him.

Jungkook then picked you up, took you to the bathroom, made you pee, and brought you back to bed after changing the sheets.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

What?

[ourceliumnetwork]

oooh we're feeling chatty today. that walk musta done something.

anyway, does anyone know how to start like... pursuing things you want? also wanting things?

also maybe knowing if you want something? cause i can't tell if its that i don't actually want stuff or if i'm doing the thing where i've spent my whole life not being allowed to have thoughts in my head and now i have autonomy and the ability to desire without people being mean to me for having interests or wants or literally just like... happiness in general and so i just say "oh well i don't need it, it's not going to ruin my life if i never see it again" and like... block shit out because i know i'm not allowed to have it.

anyway if anyone knows how to fix this or where to look for help in fixing this i'd be very grateful.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Well! I started remodeling the house sooo long ago (original post of it back in 2018), then got distracted and forgot it in the closet for a long time, ignored it on and off, etc... Then, finally finished the house in 2022. THEN, I forgot about the pictures I took of it in 2022, and am now posting them in 2024.. A good example of how the timeline of my side craft projects usually go lol

But, at least I do have the photos now, so... finally sharing them ! 

I just used a blue sheet as a 'sky' and a green sweater with some fake flowers on it to try to look like it was on grass lol...

(more images under the readmore)

The bedroom-

The library/potion room -

The living room area-

Then the little kitchen

The pictures are not very good, but these are the best I could find? I filmed a video of me working on the whole thing (who knows when that will be out..if it took me TWO years just to post the photos lol), so I think while I was taking the pictures, I was thinking “eh, they don’t have to be great, since I’ll show it in more detail in the video :3″, but now I kind of regret not having more actual detail shots or anything.

(sidenote: I'm pretty sure I've posted better pictures of some of the individual rooms before though too? sometime before I had added the finishing touches but when they were basically done and looked almost the same as these. so maybe it's okay that these are kind of bad lol)

I think progress on it also stalled a bit due to the pandemic starting, since like 90% of the stuff in here is random things I found at the bins (giant goodwill donation center where you dig through tubs of various items all thrown together), so once I couldn’t go out to the bins anymore, I lost my method of hunting for new items, and just had to work with whatever scraps I already had or could make myself with very few materials/tools.  The bins is a really large and always crowded place, so it's still not safe for me to go with current community transmission levels lol... who knows when I shall be able to use it to get dirt cheap crafting supplies ever again.. T o T

ANYWAY! It was a fun little project, even though of course it's a little rough around the edges and not exactly as I'd envisioned lol. As usual, I always enjoy the MAKING of things the most, yet then have no idea what to do with the finished project, since the process is what's enjoyable to me.

I think I'm going to take all the glued down furniture out of it and then repaint it, then maybe donate the base house back to the same thrift store I found it at. Like completing some sort of crafting circle of life or something lol

slowly making some progress on the doll house I’m trying to remodel! 

[buckyalpine]

You know what I was thinking of all day? Comforting our sad baby Bucky who just wants a hug. He's tired from a bad mission. His body aches. He saw things he didn't want to. He could really just use something.

Even just a smile?

He doesn't have a lot of friends and most people around the compound outside of the team avoid him. Even those who'd worked with him for ages were still wary, scared he'd snap if they just asked how he's doing. He would have liked it, even just a hello in passing. When he walks by with a scowl on his face, no one meets his eye. If they did, they would have seen the storm that was brewing inside was not an angry one.

He just needed to be held.

When he continues to make his way towards his room, he's given a few nods from a couple of teammates but he knows they're doing it while holding their breath. He reaches his room and the damn is about to break, he hasn't been held in years, he feels so cold and empty, was he really so terrifying, no one would-

"Sergeant Barnes?"

A gentle voice calls for him, forcing him to swallow the lump in his throat. He knows that voice, mustering his best smile as he turns around to find Tony's lab assistant with a cup of chamomile tea in his mug and a file with the mission report he was supposed to fill out.

"Everyone's filling their reports in the conference room, I figured you'd rather have some privacy so I thought I'd bring it to you" You give him the same warm smile you grace everyone with, handing him the steaming cup, "and of course, your favourite"

It's too much. Normally it wouldn't be but he's never given such kindness but he always gets it from you. You're so unbelievably affectionate to everyone and he really doesn't feel worthy but today he needs it so he graciously accepts the tea and file with a soft thank you.

"and call me Bucky, doll"

You stiffen at the slight crack in his voice, frowning when he keeps his eyes trained to the floor. It wasn't unusual for Bucky to keep to himself but you catch his reddened nose and glassy baby blues and it breaks your heart.

He opens the door to enter his room ready to drown in a lonely storm when that voice calls again. Surely he was dreaming. He sets down his things, turning to find you still at his door.

"Bucky?" You enter his room, standing before him when he doesn't ask you to leave, "Are you okay?"

He doesn't trust himself, nodding and desperately blinking back tears. He wished you'd leave, he wished you'd stay, he wished he could just tell you what he needed, his hands fisted into balls by his side, he should just suck it up, what was he expecting-

"Come here" You whisper, your hand coming to cradle the back of his head, bringing it to rest into your neck where he can let go, your arms wrapping around his body.

Bucky doesn't get a chance to realize what's happening because as soon as he feels your touch the first sob escapes. He's hidden himself away in your hold, his tears wetting your skin with no remorse. He clings onto you like a lifeline while you coo and comfort him, playing with his hair and rubbing his back.

You don't let go, allowing him to cry for as long as he needs. Even after his cries turn into sniffles, you comfort him, pressing a kiss to his temple while he holds you extra tight.

When he's finally ready to let go, albeit reluctantly, he's instantly shused from trying to apologize. You don't ask questions asking what happened or why he was upset. It really didn't matter. You just knew. Bucky whispers a thank you, making a mental note to get you some flowers to properly showed you how much he appreciated it.

Of course you'd always just know when he needed it so he'd thank you again with coffee.

Dinner.

Dinner again.

Eventually, a ring.

You always knew what he needed.

A hug.

That was all.

[cherienymphe]

Pity Party

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON/DUB-CON (+ mentions of), toxic/abusive relationship, mentions of manipulation, dad!Rafe, established Rafe x reader

➥ While this can absolutely be read as a stand alone piece, it is also the much requested follow up to my WTPO series. I hope this doesn't disappoint!

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You became the envy of every woman in Kildare County the day you became Mrs. Rafe Cameron.

⭑

You slid along the floor using your knees, hand occupied by an even tinier one as your son unsteadily put one foot in front of the other. Your lips were pulled into a smile as you watched him, your free hand hovering behind his back for when he very likely would fall. Your other son was occupied with a snack, and when—as expected—the youngest one’s legs gave out, you scooped him up with a giggle.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “You’re going to be sprinting by this weekend.”

His cherubic face smiled back at you, lips wet with drool, and you wiped his mouth with a smile. Your oldest—now done with his Goldfish—was currently tugging on your dress, and when you looked down at him, he had a wide grin on his face.

“I wanna play with him…”

His soft voice had your own expression softening, and you quietly told him ‘okay’, taking a seat right on the floor where you were formerly standing. You emptied your hands, letting your son crawl around and slap at the ground as his brother followed him, face so close to his as he whispered things to him that he didn’t quite understand yet. You let your mind wander, warmth blooming in your chest as you thought about how…sweet they were.

There had been a time where you feared they wouldn’t be.

…and as you stared at them, you almost felt bad for ever thinking they could be anything less than angels, but it couldn’t be helped. They were children, and there were very few things in this world that were more innocent than children. They both came out squirming and pudgy and perfect—screaming their heads off and only calming once they were in your arms. They came into this world looking at you with the kind of eyes that had never experienced or done a single bad thing in their life.

They were children…babies…

…but they were Rafe’s babies.

And as much as you would like to, you would never be able to forget how they both came to be here. Fighting off Rafe Cameron was hard enough when you were going through a tumultuous breakup, but it became damn near impossible once he managed to get a ring on your finger and a prison around you in the form of a fancy house. You looked down at the large rock, a pang going through your chest at the sight of a simple gold band below it.

The wedding had been the grand fanfare it was expected to be, serving it’s purpose of making you the envy of every woman in Kildare County. Your oldest son—having been an only child at the time—was pulled down the aisle in a wagon with a pillow in his lap that contained the rings. Rose had gushed over you in the dressing room, long having convinced herself no woman would ever marry Rafe and she’d never get to experience this. Your father had cried as he handed you off to your husband to be, and tears had kissed your own eyes but just for an entirely different reason.

Your dress was made for a princess, and your veil was made for an angel, and your makeup was made for a doll. Everything was perfect, everything going off without a hitch. Absolutely nothing—not a single thing—had gone wrong, and even though by that point you’d slowly started to accept your fate…something in you had hoped. For what? You weren’t entirely sure.

You’d hoped that some crazy ex girlfriend of Rafe’s would stand up and object. You’d hoped that your brother would go against your wishes and drag you away from it all. Hell, you’d even hoped that someone would choke on their spit and require an ambulance. Deep down though, you’d known what you really hoped for.

You had hoped that Rafe would do the right thing…and let you go.

It was a silly hope. Rafe Cameron had gone through entirely too much trouble to ensure you’d never leave him, even going as far as threatening to take your son away from you. He—both of them—was the only good thing to come out of this. From the first moment you laid eyes on him, you’d wanted him all for yourself and far away from Rafe. The brunette simply didn’t deserve him, and you had no doubt that Rafe would agree, but his selfishness outweighed any thought of doing what was right. That had always been the case.

You didn’t know why you thought your wedding day might be any different.

Rafe moments away from chaining you to him forever? There was no shot in hell of him walking away from that, and you sighed at how naively hopeful you’d been that day. The sound of your oldest son’s laughter pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked over just in time to see him jump to his feet, promptly sprinting towards the foyer. You weren’t worried, knowing exactly who it was that could elicit such a reaction from him.

You swallowed at the sound of Rafe’s voice, taking your 11-month old into your arms.

“...and how were my boys?”

He came into view as he said that, the messy haired little boy upside down in his arms as he kicked his feet and laughed.

You knew the question wasn’t meant for you.

“I was bad,” your son told him, and you fought back a smile, knowing why he said that.

Rafe’s gaze met yours, and the smile that threatened to ghost over your lips was gone. He merely smirked at the sight, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the boy in his arms.

“Bad? Oh no,” he chuckled. “Why were you bad?”

“I accidentally spilled juice on mommy’s dress.”

Your son’s words came out small, slurring together a bit with his slight lisp. You’d told him that it was fine—accidents happen—but you knew why he was so hung up on it. As awful as Rafe treated you behind closed doors, he treated you a million times better for the whole world to see. He was smart that way, and the whole world included your children. They saw their dad treat mommy like a princess—none the wiser to what the true nature of your relationship was really like—and so they followed suit.

An offense against you—no matter how small—was especially heinous.

“Oh that is bad,” Rafe murmured, setting him down on his feet. “Guess we’ll have to buy her a new one, huh?”

He ruffled his hair, and your son beamed at the thought of going shopping.

You avoided Rafe’s gaze as he neared you, an impressive feat when he came to kneel down before you. Your youngest was squirming in your arms—babbling—and you swallowed when Rafe reached out to lightly squish his cheeks. He pressed his lips to his tiny forehead just as his hand landed on your own cheek, and only then did you look at him.

Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time, expression unreadable. Your oldest was going on about something behind him that neither of you were giving too much attention to. His blue eyes looked between yours, studying you, and you could smell his cologne. After what felt like too long, his pink lips finally curved into that haughty half smile you were used to seeing.

It never not made you want to smack it right off of his face.

“...and how was mommy today?” he quietly asked.

There were a thousand things you wanted to say to him.

You wanted to say that mommy cried in the bathroom because she still had thoughts of leaving sometimes even at the loss of her own children, but then she’d remember how much she loved them and couldn’t live without them and the guilt would set in. You wanted to tell him that mommy’s thigh still hurt from where he’d sank his teeth into it the night before for daring to tell him she still hated him sometimes. You even started to tell him that mommy had rare moments here and there where she’d momentarily forget their history and find herself content in this big house with her children and fancy ring until she remembered how her children got here and what said house and ring represented.

You didn’t say any of that though.

Instead, you merely blinked at Rafe, and told him what you always did.

“Mommy was fine.”

The vase narrowly missed Rafe’s head, his quick reflexes making your heart sink with disappointment. Your own quick thinking had you frantically looking around for something else to throw at him, but his feet moved faster than your brain, and he was nearing you before you made up your mind. Unable to stomach being around him, right now, you hurriedly sprinted to the other side of the room. You paid no mind to the way he called your name, a blend of anger and exasperation there.

“Are you done…?”

You didn’t look at him, keeping your angry gaze on the floor. Besides, you didn’t have to in order to know what he looked like. You could imagine it perfectly—steely blue eyes cold and intently focused on you, hands on his hips and jaw clenched so hard you’d swear it was about to break. When you finally did glance at him, you were proven right.

“This little…” he waved his hand about. “...tantrum. You’re finished?”

“Fuck you,” you whispered.

You couldn’t hold in your tears, and they spilled over without your permission. Rafe sucked his teeth at the sight, and when he took a step towards you, you made to leave the living room completely. Your sons were with your mom—they would be the whole weekend—because that was the plan. They would stay with grandma for a few days while you went to Charlotte to visit Pope at school. Rafe was supposed to be handling business with Ward, anyway.

He was not supposed to be sabotaging your plans and canceling car rentals and flights and ruining your entire weekend.

Rafe stopped you before you could get far, and you didn’t even attempt to get away, too defeated and upset to smack him square across the face like you wanted. His fingers dug into your skin, and you wondered if a light bruise would be there in the morning. You could tell by the way he held you that he was upset, but you didn’t understand what he had to be upset about. It had been four years since Rafe started this fucked up dynamic he called a family and over two since you’d reluctantly said ‘I do’. You even gave him another son…and yet…

It was clear now that he still didn’t trust you.

Sure, you had the stray thought or two here and there about escaping, but when it was all said and done, those were just thoughts. Your children meant too much to you to just take off, and even if you ever got to that point one day where you’d happily sacrifice their chance to grow up with a mother just to have your own freedom, Rafe would never let that happen. Your fate was sealed from the very moment he’d decided you were it for him.

“I haven’t seen my brother in months. It’s his last year of school, and I didn’t want the next time I see him to be at his Goddamn graduation,” you spat, lips trembling. “You said you were okay with it!”

“Yeah, I was,” Rafe replied in a tone that hinted at more to come.

You were right.

“...but then I remembered that this would be the first time we’d be apart for a distance more than thirty miles and how way up there in Charlotte you could disappear to wherever you wanted and-.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about any of that if we had a normal relationship,” you cut him off, a sneer on your lips. “You wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of me running away from you if you’d never hurt me and raped me and damn near threatened me into marrying you.”

At those words, Rafe let you go as if you burned him, and you reminded yourself how much Rafe hated to be reminded of why you were really here. You were positive he sometimes convinced himself that this relationship was as real as it could be—the perfect parents with the perfect children and the perfect marriage. After all, it was what everyone on the outside saw when they were looking in.

The difference between the two of you it seemed was that you knew it was all pretend.

Rafe liked to believe that it wasn’t.

“All of that aside…do you really think I’d leave them?”

Your question came out whispered, and you didn’t miss the slight twitch in Rafe’s face. Leave them…not leave him. Rafe was smart in knowing that knocking you up would be the only thing to truly prevent you from leaving, and yet he absolutely hated to be reminded of it. To be reminded that it was not—and never would be—him keeping you here.

His expression morphed, a shadow passing over his features as he glanced away, shoving a hand into his pocket.

“I can’t take that chance,” was all he said, making more tears spill over. “Pope’s not going anywhere. You can always see him another time.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth in anger, and when he reached for you, he was stopped by a harsh slap to the cheek. Your lips wouldn’t stop trembling, and you just stared at him as he rubbed his face.

“You have taken so much from me, Rafe,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes at him. “If your goal is to make sure we’re both absolutely miserable…then keep it up.”

You turned away from him, refusing to spare him another look as you made your way upstairs to unpack your suitcase.

Most days in your marriage were okay. They weren’t awful, and they weren't’ exactly anything you’d jump at the chance to relive. They were simply just…okay. On those days, Rafe would wake you up with a kiss, sometimes more than that, and you’d start your day—usually something that consisted of preparing for your children to wake up. They made those days stand a chance at being somewhat enjoyable, and you thought to yourself that maybe one day when they were old enough, you’d tell them how much they did for you without even knowing.

On the days where your marriage wasn’t okay, you were usually overcome with how you really felt about Rafe. Those days didn’t come as often as they used to—a fact you didn’t like to let your mind linger on—but when they did, they usually ended in your tears.

…and Rafe pinning you down and just taking what he wanted.

Rafe had felt entitled to your body long before he put the ring on your finger, but after you took his last name, his entitlement went to an entirely new level. You recalled a day where you had the house to yourselves and how silly you’d been to think Rafe would respect your wish to be alone.

“Do you know what this means?” he’d harshly asked, squeezing your left hand as he held it up for both of you to see.

The 4-carat marquise solitaire glinted under the bright kitchen light.

“It means you’re my wife, it means you’re mine,” he’d hissed, getting in real close and touching your nose with his. “Do you get how patient I’ve been? How patient I am?”

You’d shrank away from him, wincing at the slight pain in your left hand.

“I know this hasn’t been easy for you, but it’s been years,” he’d told you. “There’s a ring on your finger and two little boys walking around with my face. You need to suck it up!”

The counter had been harsh against your stomach as he bent you over it.

The good days in your marriage were even more rare, and even those ended in you feeling sad for yourself. It was usually a whole day of your boys keeping a smile on your face, the feeling so infectious that even Rafe couldn’t make it go away. And that’s how you’d find yourself smiling at him and playing with your children together and actually acting like a family. Only…on those rare days…it wasn’t acting. For just several hours, everything that Rafe was and everything he’d done would be so far from your mind.

You’d find yourself bathing your youngest together—your oldest only listening to you when it was time to wash behind his ears—cooing over the baby that was just shy of turning one years old. You’d let your son run into your arms as he hid from the ‘tickle monster’, playfully pushing at Rafe’s chest as you protected the three year old from him. Sometimes you’d even fall asleep with your head so close to Rafe’s lap as he read to them, your son begging you both to stay until he fell asleep.

Of all the days in your marriage that you’d anticipated being the hardest, the ‘good’ days were not among them. Reality would set in during the morning, sometimes even that same night, and your chest would ache as you held back tears because what you and Rafe had was not real. It wasn’t a real marriage, and you weren’t a real family, and on those days where you forgot that, the truth just hit so much harder. All of the anger and disappointment would come back…and then the fear would set in.

It scared you how easily you could slip into that headspace and live in some alternate reality where Rafe was a good husband and your children hadn’t been the product of rape and you didn’t have errant thoughts of what it would be like to be free of him. It scared you how good it felt to forget it all, how a day might come where instead of finding yourself slipping into that mindset, you just…chose it.

It would be so easy.

…but you felt like you owed it to yourself to hate him forever.

Sometimes he made hating him so easy…and then other times so, so hard.

“They’re so sweet to you,” he murmured in the low lighting, both of your kids fast asleep in their room. 

You’d been trying to find sleep of your own, but Rafe’s phone call with Ward left you both up long after you wanted to be. You were unfortunately wide awake when slid in beside you, and your unopened eyes didn’t fool Rafe in the slightest. He knew you were awake.

“I would hope so,” you murmured, staring at the back of your eyelids as he lightly traced patterns into your satin covered stomach.

Your husband chuckled to himself.

“I mean they look at you like you hung the moon,” he quietly continued. “Especially your shadow…”

He was referring to your oldest.

“I’m barely there for him whenever you’re in the same room,” he whispered. “He’s happy that I’m home and he hugs me, but then it’s straight back to mommy.”

You slowly opened your eyes as Rafe’s hand became flat against your stomach, gently rubbing it.

“He treats you like a princess…”

You met his gaze at that, and you couldn’t quite place the look in Rafe’s eyes.

“...and I’m especially happy about it on days when I don’t.”

You sighed at that, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m glad that he’s nothing like me…”

You remembered Rafe saying something similar years ago before the boy in question had even been born, and you blinked as he leaned in, gently ghosting his lips over your cheek. You were tempted to push him away, but then you asked yourself if you wanted to start a fight so late in the night. Instead, you turned your head to face Rafe, your lips a hair’s width away from his own.

“I’m glad he’s nothing like you too,” you whispered.

You didn’t miss the way his face fell at that, a tick in his jaw that told you your words had the desired effect. Instead of saying something along the lines of what you both knew he wanted to say, Rafe merely heaved a sigh, still gently rubbing your stomach. He suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbow, looking down at you.

A smirk ghosted over his lips.

“I want another baby.”

Those words were the last thing you’d been expecting, and your eyes widened just a tad.

“...what?”

“Let’s try for a girl this time,” he suggested, and realizing that he was indeed serious, you sat up.

His hand fell away from your stomach.

“This time?” you murmured, more to yourself than him. “I don’t recall trying for anything the previous times.”

The mention of what he did to you had Rafe going silent, and when you looked at him, his nostrils were flaring.

“It can be different this time-.”

“How?” you wondered, frowning at him. “How will it be different this time? The only time I touch you is when I’m forced to, and I don’t know, that sounds pretty fucking familiar to me.”

Rafe’s hand had circled around your chin before you had time to react—he was sitting up now too—and you both just cooly stared at each other. He looked like he wanted to hurt you, and you stared back, just waiting for him to prove you right. He seemed to be toying with the thought, and after a few moments, he slowly exhaled through his nose.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his blue eyes following the action.

A million thoughts were racing through his mind, that much you could tell by the emotions that flickered over his features. Eventually he settled on one, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“You’re not always unhappy…”

It was said like a statement, but there was a lilt there that told you he wanted an answer.

“No,” you eventually responded, honestly. “Not always.”

He nodded.

“...but I’m unhappy more than I’m happy.”

He closed his eyes at that, and you swallowed.

“What did you expect, Rafe? Sure, four years is a lot, but it’s also not when I think about everything you did to me.”

He dropped his hand and pushed himself to his feet. You watched him stand there, staring at the wall with his hands on his hips.

“...and what makes it worse is that you’re not even sorry. I know how much you want me to ‘just get over it’, but how am I expected to get over it when we both know you’d do it all over again so long as it got you the same result?” you choked out. “You’re not sorry for any of it.”

You blinked away tears.

“...and now you’re mad at me so much because I won’t roll over and play house.”

You saw his shoulders heave, and you could tell how much this conversation was frustrating him. Rafe really hated to be reminded of his own actions, hated to be reminded of the fact that your relationship was where it was because of him. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were the one trapped in this gilded cage…not him.

“So, if you want another baby…” you quietly started. “...either something needs to change…or you just embrace the beast we both know you can be.”

His eyes snapped to yours at that, and as much as it made your heart skip a beat, Rafe rarely scared you anymore. You’d seen him and experienced him at his absolute worst. There really wasn’t much he could do to you anymore that would shock you…and he knew it. 

His baby blues glinted dangerously, and you bit your tongue.

He did the opposite of what you expected, and you watched him turn away from you to leave the room. You didn’t relax, knowing he’d come back, but you did heave a tired sigh, telling yourself that sleep couldn’t come fast enough.

Rafe’s hand tightened around your throat as he kissed you, the alcohol on your tongue making the kiss taste sweet. The world was moving so slow around you, and every place that Rafe touched felt like you were being gently electrocuted. Deep in the crevices of your mind, you knew that something was wrong. You hadn’t kissed Rafe like this in years, not since the early days of your relationship when you thought you might have loved him, and butterflies were in your stomach at one look from him.

You recalled the sight of your empty wine glass on the carpet, the rest of the red wine you didn’t drink staining the white fabric.

Your kids were asleep and the house was quiet and you were kissing your husband like you used to—back when he wasn’t your husband. Rafe had your back to the wall just barely on the inside of your bedroom, your hand struggling to reach out to the door. Rafe grabbed it, threading his fingers through your own, and you made a slight noise of protest.

He made a shushing noise into the kiss.

“Just relax…”

Relax.

That word triggered something in you, and you pressed your other hand to his chest. You were far too relaxed to be sober, and considering you only had one glass of wine, you knew that other substances were at play here. You recalled Rafe voicing his desire for another baby just the other day…and you recalled the slight back and forth it’d created. You expected one of two things out of Rafe, but neither of them included a scenario where you were too inebriated to properly fight back against him.

There was something especially sinister about Rafe creating this false sense of consent.

His lips traveled down towards your neck as he bent his head, and you felt like you didn’t have control over your body as you threw your head back. You shakily exhaled when both of his hands descended towards your waist, lifting you and forcing you towards the California king. When he settled you both onto it, all pretense was gone.

“Don’t you want a little girl?” he whispered against your skin, his fingers dancing along the place from where your shirt had ridden up. “Hmm? I know you get sick of being with just us boys.”

You made a noise that was unintelligible even to your ears, pushing at his head, but it was of no use. Whatever he slipped into your drink clearly wasn’t in his, Rafe having all of his strength and wits about him as he pinned you down. He kissed you again—slow—as his hands circled around your wrists. It took your breath away, and your lashes fluttered when he descended.

“A princess for my princess…”

You reached out to place a hand on the bed to steady yourself. Although you knew it was the room spinning, not you, and so focused on that, you didn’t even realize what Rafe was doing until the cool air you’d briefly felt against your core was replaced by his mouth. The action made your back arch, and—against your will—you reached down to press your hand against his head.

He hummed in between your thighs.

“You never let me do this anymore,” you heard him whisper, his breath against your skin before he dived back in.

To be fair, you never let him do anything, but especially this. It was too intimate, too loving, and those words were so far from the true nature of your relationship it wasn’t even funny. After all, Rafe was now at a place where he had to drug you just to get you to stop fighting against him. You found it interesting because he never minded the fight before. In fact, you’d even say that some part of him enjoyed it.

You wondered what had changed.

His head moved back and forth between your thighs, and it made you squirm. One of Rafe’s hands reached up to dig into your leg, holding you still. The other found your hand, and you were unable to remember that you didn’t like holding his hand. Another gesture that you felt was too intimate, something Rafe always liked to pretend that your relationship was.

Just when you were on the brink of coming all over his tongue, your husband pulled away, but not before pressing a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh. With stars just barely floating in your vision, you laid there, eyes falling closed as you fought to regulate your breathing.

A voice in your head told you that you didn’t want this, and that you needed to get up…but you couldn’t find the strength to.

When Rafe’s hands were on you again, they were pulling away every piece of fabric they touched, and you couldn’t help the tears that kissed your eyes. Being forced to feign compliance in your own assault somehow hurt a thousand times worse than if Rafe had simply grabbed you and held you down. You wondered if this made it easier on him, and you thought about how much Rafe hated being reminded of the things he did to you.

It was like it hurt him to remember it that way, to acknowledge it for what it was.

When he slid into you, you couldn’t help the small whimper you let out, eyes rolling as he stretched you out. Rafe’s hands were on you, pulling you closer, and as if your arms had a mind of their own, you threw them around him. His chest was pressed to yours as he thrust into you, and you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. He cursed when he sank into you again, and your toes curled.

“You’re so mean to me, you know that?”

One of his hands tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck.

“...have to drug my own wife just to get her to fuck me…”

Your nails dragged along the expanse of his back, and Rafe hummed at the feeling. You’d forgotten what it felt like to lie beneath him and just let him have his way with you. It felt like so long since he hadn’t had to force you down and take his cock despite what you may have wanted. Although, your current position wasn’t all that different, but you couldn’t ignore how relaxed you were from whatever he’d slipped you.

Rafe shifted, hands pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. His blue eyes glinted in the low lighting, and you blearily blinked up at him as he gazed down at you. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours while still holding your gaze. Your lips parted at a particularly hard thrust, and the corner of his lips curved upwards at the sight.

Deep in the back of your mind, you knew you didn’t want this, but it was for so many reasons that you were struggling to remember. For the time being, all you could focus on was the curve of his cock as he repeatedly pushed it into you and how good it made you feel. One of your legs hooked around his waist, and Rafe’s perfect teeth winked at you as he grinned.

“I missed this, beautiful,” he whispered. “You know that?”

The bed jostled from your movements, and Rafe glanced down between you to watch himself disappear into you. 

“I can’t wait to fill you up,” he told you, making your heart skip a beat and reminding you of how and why you’d found yourself in this position in the first place. “Can’t wait to see you swollen and round again and fucking glowing.”

You murmured his name, but you couldn’t tell if it was in protest or not.

Your mind was all over the place, and when Rafe’s hips curved into yours again, you arched your chest up into his. Sweat clung to your frame, and you briefly wondered how made you would be at him in the morning. You knew this wouldn’t be his only attempt—Rafe always proving to be more than thorough when trying for a baby—and you now weakly wondered about having to be cautious of the food in your own house.

You could tell when he was close, his thrusts becoming sloppy and his breathing picking up. He started  to kiss you more, each kiss becoming  messier and more open mouthed than the last. In your inebriated state of mind, you kissed him back, alarm bells going off deep within your bones. Your own breathing was labored, like you couldn’t get air into your lungs fast enough.

When Rafe came the first time—and you knew that it would be the first of the night—he grunted in your ear as he spilled into you. Your nails were trailing along his skin as he plunged his cock into you, not even stopping when you felt him start to soften, lazily thrusting into your folds. Your own climax was just around the corner when he spoke.

“I will fuck you all night,” he whispered against your cheek, his tone vaguely threatening. “I will fuck you as many times as it takes until you give me what I want.”

He leaned back a bit, his nose touching yours as he tilted his head, eyeing you in a way that made your skin grow cold.

“...and I will do whatever I have to to make you…” he looked between your unfocused eyes. “...agreeable.”

[rinsoap]

➣ includes : brother's best friend! suna rintaro. oh and also small age gap between him and the reader, only two ish years though. LOWKEY SUGGESTIVE? one mention of the reader not wearing a bra if that is something u deem suggestive.

note : i'm so in love with romantic and sexual tension between u n suna it's so fun to write! also lmk if u want a pt2 or something not sure what i'd do for a pt2 but y'all can send in some ideas lol

suna rintaro who is your brother’s best friend… he likes seeing you around the house, ready for bed looking so cute in your comfy shorts and a little top n no bra. he likes that he gets to see what you look like everyday instead of only seeing you dolled up. he likes when you’re glammed, of course, you always look stunning. he just likes stealing glances of you do everyday tasks.

like tonight, in the kitchen far too late in the night, he’ll lean against the doorframe as he watches you make a snack. he notices the curves of your shoulders, and how the small of your back peeks out from your top riding up a little. you’re still humming the song you’ve had stuck in your head all day. you turn around and surprised to see him, you gasp, causing him to widen his lazy half smile. you roll your eyes, party because he scared you, but also because he looks way too good. hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants loose around his hips, hair messy, and a white tank top on that fits him perfectly. he looks like a slut.

“what could you possibly want,” you sigh, and he shrugs in response. “just wanna see what you’re up to”

“where’s my brother? shouldn’t you be hanging with him?” you question, pointing a strawberry pop tart at him accusingly.

“he’s asleep” he closes the distance between you to take the pop tart out of your hand, taking a rather generous bite.

“rin stop, oh my god you just ate like half of it,” you exclaim, snatching it back, “you’ve already cleaned out half the fridge, when will your greedy ass be satisfied?”

“rin?” he cocks his head, his sleepy smile settling into a smug one, “you haven’t called me that since, like, elementary school” the eye contact he so casually maintains is difficult for you to keep, and your face gets furiously hot, looking away. “yeah well, i kind of thought you were embarrassed by it, so i got embarrassed and i stopped” you try to exit the conversation and walk past him to the doorway he was just standing in, trying to signal that you were going to leave to your bedroom. he follows you, much to your dismay. he leans against the doorway, his back to it, and you mimick his action. you're both looking directly at each other, and it feels weirdly intimate. seeing each other face on meant he could see every expression on your face.

“why would you think that? i wasn’t embarrassed.” he says, his eyes scan you from your painted toenails to the top of your head, but inevitably looking into your eyes. after a beat of hesitation, he continues talking. “...you know, i had a crush on you then. i was really sad when you stopped calling me it.”

the heat in your face returns as he laughs. how can he sit there and laugh after dropping this insane piece of information??

“you’re kidding. i totally liked you back, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you look at him incredulously, mouth agape and growing annoyed as you realize he was not as shocked finding out your feelings as you were in learning his.

“yeah, i figured. but your brother, you know? and just in case i wasn’t right, i didn’t want you to reject me and then show up at your house the next day to watch movies with your brother” he had a point. you remember those movie nights. you always wanted to watch with them, but your brother would always say no and kick you out of the room. suna always let you watch anyways, offering a seat on the couch beside him despite his best friend’s wishes.

the movie nights were not the only thing your mind was pondering on. if he knew about your crush then, did he know now? your feelings were much too complicated for you to call it a crush, and you'd like to think you've learned how to be at least a little subtle, so maybe he didn't know.

"that’s crazy. we just barely missed each other i guess” you finally say with a chuckle that turns into a thoughtful hum, glancing anywhere but his eyes.

"what? so, you don't have a crush on me anymore?" oh, so he did know. he easily closes the gap between you two, and for once, it doesn't seem like he's teasing you. "rin..." you say, mouth slightly open like you're going to add something else, but you don't. "i don't think we missed anything... am i wrong?" he leans towards, and you swear he's going to kiss you but he stops before your lips touch, "you can tell me if i'm wrong."

you grab his shirt and pull him in to press your lips against his, bringing him into a surprising, but long kiss. his hands thread through your hair, lingering in the moment. when you break away, they slide from your hair to the sides of your neck, and he has the dumbest smile on his face. "definitely not wrong."

[webbluvrsugar]

ONLY YOURS.

ETHAN LANDRY - KINKTOBER 24 — OCT.4TH — M.LIST.

cw: exhibitionism, cnc, phone sex, bully reader x loser!ethan

It’s late, there’s a movie playing in the background of your living room as you head on to the kitchen, you’re only wearing a long tee and some pretty lingerie underneath it, your hand reaches for the wooden spoon that rests on the marbled counter before moving it to stir the vegetables on the pan. You hear your phone ringing and reach to grab it, the other side of the line is nothing but silence before you speak.

“Hello?” You question, holding the phone against your ear.

“Thought you wouldn’t pick up.” The voice is heavily modified, you can almost feel a chill running down your back.

“Well, I did.” You answer, placing down the phone on the counter before putting it on speaker. “Who is this?”

He doesn’t reply to that. “What are you cooking?”

You frown, chuckle before looking around you, your windows are closed, curtains too. “How do you know I’m… cooking?” You raise a brow.

“Same way I think those panties look good on you,” he chuckles, that menacing voice makes you feel a shiver down your back, you pause for a moment, turning your head to the side.

“Listen — I think you have the wrong number so I’m hanging up.” You put out bluntly, he can hear the way your voice shivers when you turn off the stove.

“You hang up on me and I’m gutting you!” He says quickly, furiously, you freeze next to your phone. “Not so funny now, are you? Do your friends know you’re not as tough as you seem?”

You don’t know who’s behind the phone but it’s more than a prank call, he knows you personally, knows your friends — damn it, he’s talking about them! You know you’ve been a bitch to most people on campus but you didn’t think any of them would want to kill you for it.

“Is this some kind joke?” You laugh nervously, you wished it would be a joke, just a stupid Halloween prank.

“You think it is?” He asks, you stay silent. “You wanna know what the real joke is? You spend every single day ruining my life on that campus just to act like a scared little girl now.”

Silence fills up the room and you turn red, it’s obvious now who the caller is, but you didn’t think that the nerdy guy in your class would be a psychotic serial killer.

“What, refreshed your memory?” He laughs again.

“E — Ethan?” Your face flashes in terror.

“Damn right, and if you wanna live tonight, I suggest we play a little game.”

You want to hang up this phone so damn bad, but the promise of being killed for it makes you comply to his wishes, so you sigh, a single whisper out loud.

“Fine.” You swallow dry, grab the device in your hands.

“Go upstairs to your bedroom.” He commands, you hesitate. “Make it quick.”

You grab your phone and walk up the stairs like he says, when entering the room, he gives you another command.

“Close the door,” you do so. “Good. Now strip.”

“W — What?”

“Listen, doll, I can come up in that room and slice you open right now and we both know you’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”

You breathe in nervously because deep down, you know you have, you think maybe that’s why you always bicker with him, because it’s more than trying to look good for your friends, it’s attraction to that stupid face of is, so you strip, every piece of clothing discarded on the floor and he’s smiling through the phone.

“Mhm...” He hums, a low mutter as if he’s appreciating the sight. “Get on the bed, let me see that pretty pussy.”

You get on the bed, lay down on your sheets, the window is cracked open, the breeze brushes against every piece of your body, it makes your nipples harden in the process, he wishes he was there to fuck you the way he wants to, but he can’t risk it now.

“Spread your legs.”

Your hands move to your legs, you part your thighs and spread them directly at the window across from your bed.

“Look at that, you’re wet.” He notes with menacing grin, your fingers twitch around your thighs. “Play with yourself.”

Ethan’s more demanding than he’s ever been, it’s scary even if endearing at the same time, it makes you just want to obey, and you don’t know what it is about him but it’s making you reach a finger and slide it up your slit so it meets the little pearl in between your folds. “That’s better, just imagine I’m there.”

You slide a finger in, his eyes watch you so intensely that no matter where he is, you can feel his gaze on you.

“My pretty little slut, look at you.”

a/n: not my favorite one of kinktober but bare with me

taglist: @waltzthing @stayonmars @notoakay @fae-of-prey @baileebear

[a-suspicious-number-of-ducks]

Hermit-a-Day May, day 18: JoeHills. Today's style/medium is puppet-making! Or mostly sewing with a few other things thrown in. I had a ton of fun with this one, even though it took...so much time to make. I usually explain why I chose a certain medium but this one is...pretty self-explanatory, I think. If you have any Joe clips you want to see a puppet show of, send them my way! Details, materials, and a couple more pictures under the read more.

Materials: this pattern by Abby Glassenberg and all of its required components (minus the eyes), googly safety eyes from Amazon, baby clothes from a local thrift store, and white fabric paint.

I was originally going to try to get doll clothes to dress the Juppet in, since I didn't want to sew the outfit from scratch, but couldn't find any that were quite right. After a couple unfruitful trips into stores, I stopped by a local children's thrift store and poked around their newborn and preemie section until I found an orange onesie and gray jacket/cardigan that were close enough to the right colors. I know the jacket on Joe's skin is probably a hoodie, given the pocket placement, but surprisingly, few people seem to be manufacturing hoodies for newborn babies. Once I got home, I hacked off the bottom of the orange onesie, hemmed it, and painted the at symbol on the back with fabric paint. The front (now back) still says "daddy's mighty guy" with a picture of two dinosaurs on it and that amuses me greatly.

The puppet pattern itself was a little tricky, and there were a couple spots that I think could have used some more explanation, but I made it through. In hindsight, I wish I'd used bigger eyes, but I couldn't find safety eyes (the kind that pokes through the fabric and gets secured with a washer) in a larger size and the style I wanted, and I didn't want to just glue regular googly eyes on because I was worried it wouldn't be sturdy enough (and the edges might look messy). I ended up having to hot glue the felt pieces to the inside of the mouth, even though the pattern recommended normal craft glue for that part, because it would not stick no matter what I did. If I were to make the pattern again, I'd probably try to sew the roof of the mouth and tongue pieces onto the pink felt before attaching it to the head, rather than gluing them on after.

Honestly, there are a lot of things I would do differently if I were to make another puppet, but I'm pretty proud of how this one turned out, especially for my first time doing something like this! I just. have a Juppet in my house now. I don't know how to feel about this. I know this is a pretty complicated piece, so if you have any additional questions, feel free to message me (or send an ask, or reply to this post, or send the message by carrier pigeon--whatever floats your boat).

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Deja Vu -Oneshot

Word count: 2845

“Do you remember Y/N?”  Steve asked offhandedly one day.

Bucky scoffed. “Of course I do,” he replied.  

Steve hummed and smiled softly.  “I miss her.  She was real sweet.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed.

Y/N Y/L/N had been Bucky and Steve’s childhood friend.  She didn’t always join them on their escapades, but she was a constant in their lives.  She had been two years older than them and had taken on an older sister and at times motherly role to them, but as they got older the dynamic shifted.  She was extremely protective of them both.  Steve in a brotherly sense, and Bucky in a best friend way.  As they neared their late teen years Bucky’s feelings toward her changed from friendship to romantic, but he had never pursued her.  It just didn’t feel like the right time, he didn’t want to ruin the friendship between the three of them, and then eventually war broke out.  On his last night before he was due to ship out, he had gotten home from dancing and found Y/N on his stoop.

“Hey doll,” he greeted her, then saw her crying and frowned.  “What’s wrong?  What happened?”

She wiped her tears away and smiled sadly at him.  “I need you to promise me something that’s impossible, and I know it’s unfair of me to ask for it, but I’m going to.”

“Anything,” he said, taking her hands in his.

“Come home,” she whispered, her lips quivering as she fought back more tears.  “Come back.  And if you can’t, fight like hell trying, you hear me?”

Bucky’s eyes started to fill with tears.  Looking at his best friend, who had grown from a chubby, spunky little girl to a voluptuous, caring, fierce woman, he was overcome by the realization that this might be the last time he ever saw her.  He pulled her into a hug, holding her tight as her hands clutched at the back of his uniform.  “I promise,” he whispered.  “I’ll come home, and if I can’t, I’ll die trying.  I…I love you doll.”

“I love you, Bucky,” she said.  

They pulled apart and stared at each other for a moment, then Y/N stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.  It took him by surprise, and he barely had a moment to close his eyes and kiss her back before she pulled away.  She gave him a quick smile, then pulled out of his embrace and swiftly turned and walked down the street back to her house.  He watched her walk away, his eyes wide and his lips tingling from the kiss.  

He never saw her again after that.  For all she knew he and Steve had died in the war.  And maybe it was better that way, thinking they died rather than knowing all the pain and suffering they endured later.  But he never forgot her, even after all the brainwashing and the torture.  Bucky only wished that they had more time, one more chance to do it right. 

***

Bucky was walking along the booths of a vintage market fair, he and Steve perusing the old books, trinkets, clothes, cars, and everything that they would have seen growing up.  Steve had picked up an old toy car that looked astonishingly like one he had as a child, and Bucky was going through a stack of records.  He still enjoyed listening to older music, primarily from the 30s and 40s, but was looking for some things from the 50s and 60s to add to his growing collection.  He pulled a couple of records out, examining them, when someone held out a record in front of his face.

“Looking for some good old rock and roll?” 

Bucky nearly choked as his head whipped around and looked at the woman next to him.  Her voice sounded familiar, and when he looked at her his eyes bulged and his mouth fell open.  The same colored hair, though styled more modernly, the same face, the same voluptuous body, the same kind smile.  It couldn’t be.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice coming out in a reverent hush.

She frowned.  “Um…how do you know my name?”

He frowned, blinking and shaking his head, sure that he was seeing things.  “You, y-you’re…I–”

“Hey Buck, what’s this…Y/N?” Steve asked, just as surprised as Bucky, staring at her in disbelief.

“Okay, uh, this is creepy,” Y/N said, her frown deepening and taking a step back.  

“No, no no wait, I’m sorry,” Steve spoke first, putting his hands up in surrender.  “You just look like someone we used to know a long time ago.  Like…almost exactly like her.”

Her face relaxed and she sighed, rolling her eyes.  “Oh, ha, yeah I get that a lot,” she said.  “I’m named after my great grandmother, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, and I inherited her face, too.”  She looked at both of them more intently, then her eyes widened.  “Wait…oh my god, Steve Rogers?” she asked, looking star struck.  “Bucky Barnes?”

Bucky silently reveled in hearing her say his name.  “Yeah,” he breathed.  “We uh, we knew her.”

“I know!” Y/N said, smiling widely.  “She wrote about both of you in her journal!  Oh my god, this is insane,” she laughed.  “My mom is gonna die when I tell her I met you guys.  It’s so nice to meet you.”  She extended her hand and Steve shook it with a wide grin, then Bucky shook her hand, still looking at her in awe.

“I’m sorry to stare, I’m just…a bit in shock right now,” Bucky said, chuckling at himself.  “You literally are the spitting image of her.”

“Weird, isn’t it?” she asked.  “I was just reading her journal this morning.  She really loved you guys, I hope you know that.”

Steve smiled kindly and nodded, while Bucky looked down.  “She was something special,” Steve said.  “Like the big sister I never had.”

They all continued talking for a while, walking down the market together and looking at odd bits and pieces.  It was getting late and Y/N looked at her phone.

“Ugh, I gotta get going.  Dinner plans.  But it was awesome to meet you both,” she said.  “Would it be weird if I asked for a hug?”

“Not at all,” Steve laughed, then leaned down and hugged her for a moment.  When she pulled away she looked at Bucky.  He nodded and leaned down, hugging her tight.  She gave the same great hugs that her great grandmother gave, and he took a deep breath, subtly getting a whiff of her perfume that smelled just like her, too.

She seemed to let him hold her a little longer than Steve, sensing that he needed that hug.  When she started to pull away he reluctantly let her go, giving her a sad smile.  “It was great to meet you,” he said quietly.

Y/N watched him for a moment before glancing at Steve, who was pretending not to watch them.  “Could I, uh, get your number?” she asked, giving him a hopeful look.  “And maybe, you know, I could show you some old photos we have, and her journal, if you’re interested?”

Bucky’s heart soared at the offer to see her again.  “Yeah, that’d be great.”

They exchanged information, and said goodbye to each other before she walked away and Bucky turned to Steve, who was giving him a knowing look.  

“Think you’ll have a chance this time, pal?”

“Fuck off,” Bucky said, shoving Steve’s shoulder.  But inside, he secretly hoped that maybe, in a weird way, he would.

***

“Dr. Strange?” Bucky called out as he stepped into the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Dr. Strange appeared on the floor above, peering down at Bucky.  “Sergeant Barnes, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Bucky walked up the stairs and shook his hand.  “I’m sorry to just come by unannounced, but I have a question that I don’t know who else would actually know the answer to without giving me some big religious speech.”

Dr. Strange chuckled.  “Well color me intrigued.  What’s your question?”

Bucky inhaled deeply.  “Is reincarnation real?”

Dr. Strange smiled.  “Hm, that is a great question.  One that many have philosophized and agonized over for centuries.  Why do you ask?”

“Well, I knew someone back in the day that I was close with, before the war.  She died a long time ago, but two weeks ago I saw her at a vintage market.  She looks just like her, sounds just like her, acts a lot like her.  Turns out it’s her great granddaughter.  They even share the same name!” he said, rubbing his face harshly.  “I can’t…I can’t get her out of my head.  It’s driving me crazy.  How is this possible?”

Dr. Strange nodded, considering his words.  “I can’t give you a definitive yes or no answer.  What I can say is that sometimes, when a soul or the universe has unfinished business, patterns can repeat themselves to try and mend what’s been interrupted or broken.  If this girl is almost the exact embodiment of your friend from days gone by, then there must be a reason she’s here in some form again.”  Bucky nodded, then Dr. Strange shrugged.  “Or it could just be amazing genes in the family.  A crazy coincidence.”

“Could be,” Bucky mused.  “Thanks.”

***

A year later Bucky and Y/N were hanging out on a Friday night, watching a movie at her apartment.  They had gotten really close since they met at the vintage market.  He had come to her mom’s place a week after they met where she showed him her great grandmother Y/N’s photos and journals, and he learned all about what had happened after he and Steve had left.  She had eventually married a returned soldier who was an engineer, and they had three children, one of which was Y/N’s grandfather.  She had always had a soft spot for Steve and Bucky, telling stories of her time with them when they were kids to her children as the story of Captain America and the Howling Commandos became legend.

After that she had become a regular part of his life, and as much as Steve was a part of their outings, she and Bucky had become close friends and spent a lot of one-on-one time together.  Steve could tell that the feelings Bucky had been fighting when they were kids were coming back for this girl, and he kept encouraging him to do something about it, but Bucky was once again afraid.  

“I’m just saying, you’d be hard pressed to find a really good rom com nowadays,” Y/N said, turning to face him more on the sofa, their attention pulled away from the movie playing on the TV.  “Like what happened?  Bring back the yearning men!  The pining love!  The passion!”

Bucky laughed at her impassioned speech.  “I have to agree.  The ones you’ve been showing me compared to what’s out now?  Not even close.”

“Exactly!” Y/N said, clapping her hands.  “It drives me nuts!  Where’s a man like that,” she pointed at the screen as Bill Pullman leaned against Sandra Bullock, “in my life?”

Bucky’s heart ached at that statement.  He wanted to be that man for her.  “He’s right here, pretty girl,” he smirked, trying to joke about it as he gestured to himself.

Y/N giggled at him, covering her face as she blushed.  “Ugh, I know.  Just make the move, Barnes, yeesh,” she said, playing into the joke and arching an eyebrow at him.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her.  The joke was suddenly becoming too real.  They stared at each other for a long moment, then he leaned in closer, arching his eyebrow in challenge.  “Like…leaning?” he asked quietly, watching her reaction.

Her eyes widened, her eyes blinking rapidly as her gaze flicked across his face.  “That’s a good start,” she breathed.

“Yeah?” He raised his hand and cupped the side of her face, his thumb smoothing over her plump cheek.  He leaned forward just a little more, nuzzling her nose with his own and his gaze flicking from her eyes to her lips and back.  

Right as he angled his face, his lips with centimeters of hers, she inhaled sharply and pulled away.  “I’m not her, Bucky,” she said, shutting her eyes and hanging her head.

“What?” he asked, frowning at the sudden change in her demeanor.

Y/N leaned away, shrinking back into the corner of the sofa, crossing her arms over her chest and keeping her eyes shut.  “I see the way you look at me, like you can’t believe she’s back after all this time, like you have a second chance to be with her.  I may look just like her, and share her name, but I’m not my great grandmother.  I can’t…won’t replace some fantasy version of her you have in your memory.”

Bucky shook his head.  “No, Y/N, that’s not how I feel at all.”  She shook her head and held herself tighter.  “You’re right, when I first saw you I thought I was having some weird out of body experience.  I even went and talked to Dr. Strange about reincarnation.”  She smiled bitterly, opening her eyes but keeping her gaze looking away.  “But I know you’re not her.  And as much as I loved her, and cherished her friendship, she’s not you.”  Her gaze slowly moved back to him.  “In a lot of ways you’re just like her.  But she didn’t swear like a sailor and say the dirtiest innuendos while looking ridiculously innocent.”  She smiled, looking a little embarrassed but happier.  “She was fiercely protective of Steve like he was her brother, like you are, but she never put him in his place like you do.  You’re not afraid to sass him back.”  She rolled her eyes, biting back a wide smile at the thought of how many times she and Steve got into teasing fights, where she would feed off of Bucky’s jabs until Steve would glare at them both and sulk about them making fun of him.  

Bucky scooted close to her again, pulling her to face him.  “You might have her face, but she never looked at me the way you do,” he said quietly.  “She may have loved me in some way, cared about me, but I was never as close to her as I am with you.  Remember that time I called you doll, then quickly corrected?”  She lightly frowned then nodded.  “Because it felt wrong.  I used to call her, and most girls back then, doll.  But you’re not doll.  You’re Y/N.  You’re my Y/N.  My pretty girl.”  He leaned forward, nuzzling her nose again and then kissing it, her eyelids, her forehead and down both her cheeks as his hands held her under her jaw, his fingers tickling her neck and behind her ears softly.  “You’re not my second chance at her.  You’re my second chance at love in my very long, complicated mess of a life.  I want you, not her memory.  Just you.”

Y/N eyelids fluttered as he kissed near her mouth, then looked at him earnestly.  “I want you, too,” she whispered.  

He smiled softly, pressing his forehead against hers.  “I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough just as you are, that I wanted some idealized version of you.”

She sighed, nuzzling his nose back.  “It’s hard when I’ve been constantly compared to her my whole life.”

Bucky moved closer, hugging her as best as he could.  “Just because you’re similar doesn’t mean you’re the same.  You are you, and I love you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened.  “Love?”

“Love,” he nodded, knowing he was saying it too early.  “Will you give me a chance to prove it, pretty girl?”

She watched him for a moment, looking him over like she was trying to make sure he meant what he was saying.  When she was satisfied her smile returned, wide and bubbly, and she giggled that soft, breathy giggle that he loved.  “Yeah,” she said, then leaned in and kissed him.

Bucky kissed her back, slowly, taking his time to feel and enjoy it.  It was definitely different from his last kiss from almost 90 years ago, but in the best way.  She was insistent, intentional, her lips pressing firmly against his, like she was taking her time to enjoy it as well.  Her hands lifted to grip his wrists near her face, and his hold on her face tightened as he angled his face to kiss her deeper, harder, more hungrily.  His chest felt like it was fizzling with his excitement, his head fuzzy as metaphorical fireworks went off in his mind.  This was better.  So much better.  Like unfinished business being settled.  

Y/N slightly pulled away, staring at his lips then glancing up at him.  “Please tell me that wasn’t like deja vu for you?”

Bucky laughed and shook his head.  “No pretty girl.  You’re one in a million.”

[tallykale]

episode 19

as you can probably tell, i've thought a lot about what post-canon one would look like in my vision... i've said before that i have issues with straightforward fix-its, and i do genuinely love the tragic open-ended conclusion that the series has, but i... am not immune to playing with characters like dolls LOL

here's some writeups about where everyone is at mentally in these pictures. please please please PLEEEASE feel free to ask me more about this cuz i love talking about my beautiful mind palace

charlotte: somehow the most optimistic person in here, mostly out of necessity. when she died, she saw parker leading her out of a cave as her waiting room and was about to take his hand when airy respawned her, so she has a brief moment of bonding with bryce when he talks about the waiting room and seeing stella. with the knowledge that there is potentially a way to get out (bryce and liam being the proof) and the fear of rotting away again she is by far the most actively motivated to help liam figure out the computer. a lot of her days are spent talking to liam over the mic and writing out the code in the dirt so she can try to understand it. she still has to push against her natural misanthropy (and often shouts at liam or bryce for being fucking stupid and useless) but both working on the code and helping amelia give her something concrete to focus on outside herself. she wants to get home so she can make amends with her friends. charlotte is scared of dying! she's really genuinely horribly scared of dying and has awful vivid nightmares about rotting away. she often pushes amelia into talking about her life which causes some tension, but it's because she really hates seeing amelia lose herself like that - a metaphorical rotting away of the self.

subway seat & atom: not on the same level of pure existential depression as the batch 1 contestants, but they both feel the hopeless mood pretty harshly regardless. subway feels very lonely as the only hidden object still 'awake', and likes to carry whippy creamy around rather than just leave him sitting on the ground constantly. tray is too big and unwieldy for him to do that with, but he 'hangs out' with her anyway, talking to her and whippy creamy in the hopes that it'll get them to want to wake up again. atom doesn't talk much, but he still carries his piece of grass. he's definitely the person who's the least affected by the prospect of being stuck on the plane forever, since he… doesn't really perceive existence in the same way as everyone else? he's an atom. but his time in the competition definitely made him view everyone else as friends, and he feels even more powerless than usual in the face of this incomprehensibly difficult problem.

amelia: falls into total hopelessness when bryce rejoins, basically seeing it as the final sign that they're never going home. still calls everyone their competition names (she actually gets into a big fight with bryce about it lol). she gets really clingy and dependent on bryce when he first comes back but it crashes and burns pretty quickly when, during an argument, bryce tells her how much he wishes he could just go back and never have let liam in and forgot about everything… which really sucks for amelia to hear, given that she's part of that everything. after that, with bryce isolating himself, she's kind of reliant on charlotte to keep her going. she blames liam for airy dying and secretly kind of thinks he killed him but just isn't telling them… she also doesn't really believe there's any way of getting out and is just kind of waiting around to die of, like, old age i guess. after how long she's been here, amelia is convinced that she has nothing to even go back to and frequently forgets details about her life. regularly cries and hates being alone. the shift markings on the side of the water tub have changed from being a way to keep track of time and stay sane to a horrible reminder of how long they've been here and how much longer of an eternity they have before them.

bryce: hates himself and liam and airy and the plane and his entire stupid fucking life. bryce is really, really fucking pissed off at liam for losing the notes and letting texty die and every other mistake he's made, and isn't shy about telling him that. as well as being angry, he's also incredibly miserable, because he was finally starting to turn his life around (he quit drinking after the plane) and now it's all for nothing - and even worse, those 7 months he spent getting better were 7 months he did nothing to help the rest of them, especially amelia. he's horribly guilty about that, and that he didn't tell amelia about the fake votes before he was eliminated… but finds it easier to just let liam take the heat for that one at first. after he fights with amelia about it he becomes a bit of a hermit, hanging out by himself next to the plug, and never responds when liam tries to talk. contemplates suicide regularly but pretty much the only option is drowning himself, and the idea of that still scares him more than staying like this forever. would kill for a beer.

liam: tortured by horrible guilt every day over a million different things. these include getting bryce pulled back into this (plus delayed guilt over getting him for real killed), letting texty die and not saying anything about the charger, not telling amelia that everything was fake, knowing that charlotte is going to die if he doesn't get really smart really fast… he's frequently gripped by fits of rage where he almost smashes the computer and has to hobble around outside with the axe for a while to blow off steam. he has really bad nightmares and dissociative episodes, made worse by the isolation and spending hours in a dark cave. liam really wants to fix things with everyone but genuinely has no idea how to start that conversation. he assumes airy killed himself (and views it as an unforgiveably cowardly move) and directs a lot of resentment towards him. he has a lot of things he wants to say, especially to bryce, but the fact that he cant talk to anybody one on one makes things difficult. spends a lot of time just reading through the code, too afraid to actually make any changes in case everyone explodes, but talking it through with charlotte at least makes him feel like he's doing something. more than he would like to admit, liam catches himself staring at the plane as if it's a simulation or a livestream.

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

[uplatterme]

all out?

—sub!scara/dom!reader, amab!reader | office sex, exhibitionism

—not beta read so excuse some mistakes if there are any TT

honestly, scaramouche should have seen this coming.

he stares at his empty cabinet, dumbfounded that there’s nothing inside it. surely not…

the balladeer wants to scream. just his luck, that it happened today too, when there’s a meeting scheduled that he cannot skip.

“fuck.”

the harbinger walks through the chilling halls of the zapolyarny palace. the cold has never bothered him in any shape or form, yet today proves to be an exception.

there are lower-ranked fatui passing by, hastily running off, not wanting to meet his gaze. an action that he isn’t unfamiliar to.

he hisses and stops when a certain ginger blemishes his view.

“looks like someone’s having a bad day!” he greets.

for a moment there, scaramouche thinks that he’s caught red-handed. not until he realizes that the youngest harbinger couldn’t have possibly seen through his facade.

“you’re deafeningly loud.” he bites back, continuing his steps despite the aching in his lower half.

“ah, still the same as ever. not that im surprised.” he says, chuckling echoing through the halls.

“the meeting’s to start in a few, although the director and the overseer hasn’t arrived yet.” tartaglia informs.

he flushes at the mention of your title, the one behind this problem that he’s facing right now.

“hello?” he calls out.

“can you learn to shut up just at least once?!” he yells.

currently, he sits on the chair provided for him, next to pulcinella and sandrone. as long as he doesn’t get seated next to that blue-haired freak, he considers any situation to be pleasant.

the door opens with a slam and the rest of the harbingers bow their head as greeting. there you stand, that folder you always carry in your arms and a pen between your fingers.

that’s when the memories comes back to him.

flashes of each time you’ve ripped his underwear with those fingers of yours, the scene claws into his brain as he bows down his head in unison with the others.

it was fine the first time. it was only a one-time thing, after all.

oh, how naive he was thinking that.

he then realizes that it wasn’t a one-time thing, seeing as there’s none of them left in his cabinet, forced to attend this meeting with his cock slapping against his thigh each time he walks.

it’s embarrassing. he seethes at your voice, talking about some topic that he couldn’t give a shit about. he adores when your tone is like that, commanding and strict. the more you speak, the more the harbinger wants to cave in.

his cock presses hardly to his shorts, begging for any kind of attention. unfortunately, he’s forced to endure it. to sit there in agony while he stares at you, giving out orders.

oh, how he wishes that you bend him against the table right now.

he can see it visibly twitch from underneath his clothing. if you were to see this, what would you have done? scaramouche’s imagination runs wild, thinking of how you’d make him take your cock. overusing his body and milking him dry. a doll, whose only purpose is to serve you.

“balladeer?” he snaps back to reality, hearing you mention him.

he bites back a needy whine, feeling everyone’s attention now centered on him.

“yeah?” he spit out, his eyes meeting with yours.

“you’ll be sent off to a separate mission, is that all right with you?”

god, you could ask him to do anything and he’d agree.

“sure.”

when the meeting ends, his body was moving on its own, moving towards you to grab you and pinning you to the wall.

“you! you better take care of this!” he shouts.

you were confused at first but it didn’t take you long to see his cock fully outlined through his tight shorts.

“why should i? you’re the one who decided to attend this meeting like that.”

he groans. he does not have the time for any of your teasing right now.

“you kept tearing through—just, ugh!

fuck me already!”

his voice echoes throughout the room. he would have never expected this kind of situation to happen but he needed you so badly. he’s been hot and bothered ever since this morning.

he lets out a relieved groan once he feels his abdomen pressing on the table.

then, next comes the sound of his shorts being ripped apart. he would have complained about your tendency to tear through his clothes but all the complaints in his head goes away once he feels your fingers digging inside of him.

“hnngghh—fuck, finally. only thing you’re fucking good for—oh god!”

“shit, shit, shit!”

his face presses up on his hands, far too drunk as drool goes down his chin. he’s loving each movement inside of him, the satisfaction and pleasure you give are intoxicating him and he wants more.

his body squirms, his feet constantly misplacing themselves on the floor. his dick leaking precum as you stroke it at a pace, leaving him panting and breathing like a dog who had just gone for a run.

“look at you, all loose already…your body’s just made for fucking, isn’t it? always wanting to prove something when you can just show everybody how much of a cumdump you are.”

scara grunts at your insult (praise?), wanting to spit back something to defend himself. but his body is then shifted around, his back laying on the cold table as you took no time in penetrating his hole.

his mouth is left wide open by the stretch. it burns but god, he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the pain. the pain that would soon then transition into pleasure by each. single. thrust.

pounding into him mercilessly, his mouth being covered by his own mouth to desperately hide his cries from enjoying it too much, smiling underneath.

eventually, he just decides to let go. his hands reaching up to fondle his own chest, playing with his nipples while you shape him into your own cocksleeve, his leg up as you wanted better access into fucking him as much as you can.

scara’s so damn loud. of course, he doesn’t notice it. nor does he notice a certain redhead blushing needing to do a double take to see if he’s seeing the right thing.

“f-fill me up! fuck, please!”

“haaah—! more, more!”

after a while, those sentences are no longer coherent as he’s turned to just moaning and whimpering, slurring his words that you can barely understand.

the table is a cum-filled mess, his dick spurting out white as his eyes roll back the furthest they can into his head.

and yet, he doesn’t stop.

even better, he’s started to match your rhythm and grind himself onto you.

there’s a bit of a swelling in his belly from your cum and yet that isn’t seen as a blockade.

each thrust, your cum slipping out of him and back into him and the warm feeling of your stickiness is just enough to send him over the edge.

in the end, he’s left with a satisfied smile. laughing and chuckling while struggling to breathe, his walls aching and not sure if he wants more or to just stop moving for as long as he can.

one thing’s for sure though,

he’s completely forgotten that his shorts are torn apart.

[winterarmyy]

Random fluffy blurb of Bucky helping the reader with her breast-pumping routine.

i have never been pregnant so i'm sorry for the incorrect terminology and such but...

Hear me out, like, she supposed to breast pump her milk like every couple of hours which means she needs to wake up in the middle of the night too.

But that ain't happening today when her precious 3 months old baby caught a fever and has been crying all day, feeling discomfort and unable to sleep. To make it worst, Bucky's not there to help. He was supposed to be home yesterday, but he was on a mission and the jet he flew on had some kind of technical issues.

Now, he was stuck in somewhere in Europe.

As a new mom, she was still clumsy and unfamiliar with taking care of a baby. Much less a sick one at that. She had been anxious the whole day, worrying if what she was doing was helping the baby at all. When the her precious little one keeps wailing on and on, she couldn't help but to cry as well. She felt helpless; somehow incompetent.

Bucky on the other hand, begs to differ, and he keeps on reassuring her through their video call. Saying that she's doing great and that he was proud of her for holding her grounds so well.

He promised that he'll be home soon.

And soon it was, when Bucky quietly slipped into their apartment at around 2am in the morning. Judging how calm it was, he assumed that his wife and baby was asleep.

So, he took the liberty to clean up for a bit. He could see the traces of chaos and panic left behind from y/n's attempt to take care of the baby; it made Bucky wished that he had never gone to the mission.

After tossing the dirty baby clothes in the washing machine, putting away the half eaten sandwich, and propped the dishes in the dishwasher, he decided to check on y/n first before visiting his poor, sick baby.

But turns out he didn't have to; not when he saw his little bundle was joy sleeping on his bed with y/n curled soundly beside her. His two best girls. Bucky's chest swelled with utter joy and indescribable pride just by looking at them.

While he revelled at the view, the light popped up from the screen of y/n's phone caught his attention. It was an alarm to remind herself to pump her milk. Good thing, Bucky managed to slide the alarm off before the sound become louder, or else the baby will wake up for sure.

Sometimes, Bucky thinks that his little one seemed to get his super soldier hearing ability from him; even though Banner debunked his speculations with the DNA test results that stated that his baby did not have, not even a drop of the super serum, in her blood.

Good thing that Bucky had showered and cleaned up before he flew home. He just had to stripped into his sleepwear and went straight to plant multiple of light kisses on his daughter's chubby cheeks and tiny hands. Satisfied, he made his way around and out to grab the breast pump kit. He placed it on the night stand next to y/n's side and started to prepare it.

Though he was planning not to wake y/n up and help her with the pumping, it was as if her body remembered the schedule. She stirred even before Bucky touched her and her eyes squinted upon awaken.

"Hey, sweetheart." Bucky whispered lovingly. He took the opportunity of her moving around, to lift her up a little, just enough for him slip behind her on the bed. She whined and hummed as he positioned her body to lay on him as his back leaned his back to the headboard.

Bucky firmly pull her back against his chest when she spoke, "Hi, Bucky. When did you get home?" Her voice was hoarse, but quiet enough to make it sound soft.

Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist, slighty squeezing her when he kissed her cheek, "Just now." His lips travelled to her jaw, "I missed you so much, doll. And our baby." She smiled before replying that they missed him too.

Relishing in his pampering touch, she let out a sigh before declaring that she has to get up. Bucky didn't budge at all, let alone letting her move. She claimed that she needed to pump her milk, since she barely got to do it today; but, if her eyes was not as heavy as they were, she would've see that Bucky had it all prepared.

Her heart burst with appreciation as she thanked him; she wondered what has she done to deserve such a thoughtful husband; preparing her breast pump kit so she didn't have to leave the bed and all. But what she didn't know was Bucky didn't even want her to lift a finger.

"I got you, mama." He whispered as his fingers traces the button of her pyjama shirt. He popped it off one by one, slowly revealing her covered chest while his mouth never stopped spewing the sweetest things in her ears.

He undid the front hook of her bra, letting her soft heavy breasts spill out of it's confinement. She let out a shuddered moan when his hand went up and gave a gentle squeeze on boobs. Bucky chuckled lovingly when she almost gasped when he rolled her nipples in between his fingers.

After getting an annoyed growl from her, Bucky swiftly went back to his original objective as he placed the cups on each side of nipples and let the machine do its thing.

And after such a long day of self-induced stress, y/n simply melts into a puddle of pleasure and relief as her husband pampered her with praises and gentle kisses.

"Thank you, sweetheart. For giving birth to our baby, for taking care of her."

"You're such a good mama."

"I couldn't ask for more."

"I'm so proud of you."

Every kiss felt as if Bucky was kissing something so delicate and precious; his soft lips travelled from the back of her ear, along her neckline, her shoulders and back again to the crook of her neck.

She leaned back to get closer, even if there was no space in between them, wanting more of his lips, his touch. Wait. Why is he not wrapping his arms around her? She peeked down to see both of his hands were occupied on holding the pumps, "Y'know Bucky, you don't need to hold it all the time." She reminded him.

He was well aware that there was a bra that can hold the cups in place but he refused to use it.

First of all, he loves her boobs.

They're absolutely fantastic, absoultely phenomenal. So why would he want to let the bra be the cockblocker from letting him see them?

And, he also knew that she hates to wear bras, the only reason she wears them now were mostly because her milk keeps leaking out. So any chance to have her boobs out, Bucky would take it. Besides, he absolutely has plans to do after he finished pumping her.

"I know, mama. But, this is easier." He said.

y/n titled her head back to peek a look at her husband, "Easier?"

Bucky's lips curved into his signature smirk before he hummed, "Yes. Easier for daddy suck on your sweet nipples later."

And i---

[sillysillygoofygoose]

Helloooo can I request single dad Toji living with his son megumi but then neighbor reader moves in and yk HAHHAHAH anyways love ur works

Hi!! Okay, okay, okay SOOOOO cute 🥰 I LOVE this trope sooooo much. Thank you smmm anon 💕💕 I have the smexiest ask in my inbox rn, so I thought I would start with some innocent fluff 🤭

Toji is like... super down bad in this one btw

One and a Half Men □○

Toji swore off of dating the day he became a single father. Never again, he told himself. He was too busy. Too preoccupied. Too grown to be playing a twenty-something year old's game. It was evident by his whisps of gray hair, earned over the three and a half challenging years of fatherhood.

When Megumi was first born, Toji found him and his bundle of joy a nice enough apartment, conveniently next to an uninhabited one so Megumi's cries wouldn't wake up any neighbors. Toji kept his head down and focused on what he needed to do. He worked, he took care of his baby boy, and he just kept moving forward.

And he kept good on his promise... very good. Until you showed up.

"Oh, good morning Megumi! Hi Mr. Toji, how are you guys doing today?"

There you were. A beautiful, shining sweetheart, kind and angelic down to your very core. A college student, roughly twenty years old, full of life and hope and love. And the Fushiguro's neighbor of six months.

"I told ya' a million times doll, don't call me Mr. Anything. Makes me feel older than I already am." Toji can't help the way his heart pulses in his chest everytime you flash that bright smile his way. He wishes he could.

"Okay, Mr. Toji." You giggle him off, shrugging away his gruff tone as Megumi let's go of his dad's finger and starts waddling over to you, the smallest smile parting his chubby cheeks.

"Hi y~y/n. M'mmorning. I have new shirt." Megumi makes his way over to you, grabbing your hand with one of his while the other stretches the fabric of his yellow and blue t-shirt towards you, showing it off.

"Oh wow! I see! You look very dapper this morning, Megumi!" Toji watches as you crouch down in front of Megumi, absent-mindedly patting down the raven strands of hair protruding out of the little boys' scalp

Hm, Toji thinks, watching as you blabber back and forth with the little man, smile widening more and more with every word Megumi stumbles out.

A buzzing notification from his phone distracts him from the heartwarming scene. Fuck, graveyard shift tonight.

"Well, I'm very glad you like it, you look suuuuper handsome, just like your daddy." Toji's ears perk up when he hears that. He let's a smirk slip when he realizes you're already looking at him, holding little Gumi's hand.

Hearing Megumi's quiet giggles reminds him of his current conundrum. He doesn't have anyone to look after Megumi tonight.

"Um hey, y/n, are you busy tonight?" Toji scratches the back of his neck, keeping a cool composure as his heart picks up speed.

"No, I don't think so! Why?" You stand up, caressing Megumi's head when he clings to your legs.

"I don't like asking for favors, but could you watch Megumi tonight? I'll pay ya." Toji ignores Megumi's excited squeal at the mention of spending the night at your place, knowing at this rate, he would probably have the same reaction.

"Oh my god, I'd love to! You really don't have to pay me, it would be my pleasure. He's such a little gentleman." Almost as excited as Megumi, you agree, softly squeezing the toddler's tiny shoulders.

You say your goodbyes, explaining how you need to run to the store and that Toji can drop Megumi off whenever.

As you wave goodbye, Megumi turns back to his daddy, huge smile overtaking his dumpling face.

"Yay, tank you dada! I wuv y/n, so nice and pretty." Toji has never seen his little boy so excited.

"Yeah, me too, little guy." Toji mused, walking down the apartment building's hallway, distracted by confirming his shift with his boss.

"Dada wove y/n too?" Megumi mumbles to himself, looking up at his dad with bright, hopeful eyes.

"Uhm, huh? Uh she's a very nice young lady, Megs." Realizing what he said, he backtracks, distracting Megumi with under chin tickles.

"Okay Dada." Megumi giggles, scrunching his chin to his chest, trying to stop the tingles infecting his little body.

...

Megumi was quick to warm up to you when you first moved in. It was just something about you. Maybe it was the same thing that had Toji head over heels the moment he first talked to you.

You were so refreshing to be around. Both Toji and Megumi were so used to only having each other. A young, smiling, motherly woman was such a fulfilling person to have around. Like a missing piece. Your presence was magnetic to the small family, both of them adoring you, only in different ways.

Everything about you was so beautiful. It almost made Toji nervous...

"Dada... knock knock." Megumi pulls Toji's hand towards your door, reminding him of the task at hand.

"You got it bud." Toji picks Megumi up under his armpits, letting him do the knocking.

Immediately, the door swings open, revealing a smiling you, clad in a flimsy tank top and baggy sweatpants.

"Megumi!!" You exclaim, laughing as the little boy grabs your neck and transfers himself into your arms.

"Yayyayayay, y/n!" Megumi squeezes you before turning to his dad.

"Bye bye, dada. Night night." Megumi immediately waves to his dad, almost kicking him out.

"Hold on, little man. Let me talk to y/n for a minute." Toji huffed a laugh as you smiled, moving to the side to let him in.

Toji declined coming in, explaining that he didn't want to intrude. He began explaining that Megumi was due for sleep, saying how it's already way past his bedtime. You point to your room, assuring him that Megumi would be sleeping like a king and that you were drowning in school work, too much to worry about sleeping on the couch.

Toji nodded along, beginning to tune your melodic voice out as he observed the way a sleepy Megumi snuggled into your neck, and the way your hand cradled his head, carding through his messy hair.

"Okay, well, I don't want to keep you too long, Toji! Megumi is safe and sound, and will be asleep verrryyy soon." You tease the little boy, knowing that he's already fighting sleep, dozing off on your shoulder.

Toji smiled when he didn't hear an honorific before his name. Your body froze up as he moved unbelievably close to you, face rubbing against yours as he cups the back of Megumi's head, kissing him goodnight.

"Thanks again, text me if you need anything. Be a good boy Gumi, love ya." Toji waves goodbye as you close the door, turning in your place to take a deep breath, feeling your heated cheeks with the back of your hand, pulling yourself together. What a man.

Your fan-girling subsides when you feel a yawn against your neck, reminding you of the exhausted little boy in your arms.

"Let's get you to bed, buddy. We can have fun in the morning, okay?" You feel a mumble on your skin as you walk to your room, taking in the little boys matching pajamas, little toes covered with fluffy socks. Your heart melts in your chest. How cute.

"Alright, there we go. All set, bud?" You smile down at Megumi tucked in your pink bedding, little head resting on your memory foam pillow.

"Back rub, please?" Megumi pleads, instinctively rubbing his scalp with flat hands. That's where the messy hair comes from.

"Okay, bud." You soften your voice as the boy rolls around in your bed, laying on his chubby little tummy.

He hums happily when he feels the weight of your hand on his back, making grabby hands at your unoccupied one, asking to hold it.

"Dada woves you. He said so to me." Megumi smiles softly, squeezing you hand.

"Oh! Um... oh! He said that?" A wave of shock and flush runs through your body, chest and face heating up.

"Mhm. He thinks you're pretty. I think he wants- marry you." Gumi goes rouge as sleep clouds his little mind, cutting into his own sentences.

"Allrrighhtt Megs... let's focus on bedtime, okay?" You giggle out, feeling like a schoolgirl after hearing the unreliable narrator's thoughts.

"Mmh, okay. Night night, Mama."

...

You didn't get a lick of sleep. How could you? Piles of work was banging at your brain, but the only thing you could think of was Toji and Megumi. Mama.

Pulling at your face, you snap out of your panicked thoughts when you hear a door open and the weight of a tiny body running to your couch. Looking up, your heart breaks in half.

"Y/nnn, bad dreammm. I had bad dream." Megumi sobs out, hands seeking comfort in his hair rubbing his head in agony. His face is puffy and red as tears run down his chubby cheeks, sniffing and crying.

"Oh Gumi, I'm sorry baby... here, come here honey." Climbing onto the couch, Megumi rushes into your arms, holding onto you like you would disappear. Sighing, you stand up with the little boy koala bear-ing you, pacing back and forth as you hush him.

Gazing at the time displayed on the oven, you see that it's already four in the morning. Megumi burrows himself into your body, getting as close as possible to you, seeking the maternal comfort your provide.

"M so sleepy. Don't wanna be by myself." Megumi eventually sighs after tiring himself out, fidgeting with the strap of your tank top.

"Let's sit down, okay bubs? Let's just take some deep breaths." You feel like a nervous wreck, hoping you're comforting Megumi well enough, not fully knowing what to do.

Sitting back down, you pat his back, resting your head on the back of the couch. The weight of Megumi's tired head on your chest grounds you. As you begin dozing off, you feel Megumi's grip on you relax, signaling his sleep.

Exhaling, you rest your arms around the resting lump, finally letting sleep overtake you.

...

Bright and early, you're awoken by the sounds of cabinets opening and closing. You freak out, thinking someone was ransacking your apartment before you open your eyes to see a little body wandering around your kitchen.

"Thirsty." Was the only explanation you get from the messy haired boy as he continued look for a glass.

Pouring him a glass of water, you place him on a chair in your small kitchen, starting his breakfast.

Megumi mumbles to himself as you prepare his scrambled eggs, keeping himself entertained. As you sit across from him, placing his plate in front of him, he smiles and thanks you quietly before digging in.

You drink your coffee, enjoying the peace and quiet provided by Megumi's preoccupied mind...

"Y/n?"

"Yes, Gumi?"

"Do you love dada?"

Megumi brings it up again. Great. Nosey little boy.

"Because I want a mommy. And you're good at it. I think you should be my mama."

"Hey, Gumi, what's your favorite dinosaur?" You blurt out, stopping the conversation as soon as possible.

The little boy glares at you, too smart to be tricked, but giving in anyway.

"T-rex."

...

"Dada! Y/n took good care of me!" Megumi sung the highest of praises when you opened the door to an exhausted Toji.

"I'm sure she did! I hope he didn't give you too much trouble." Toji teased, seeing the dark bags manifesting under your eyes.

"No, not at all, he's a very good boy." You smiled giving Megumi one last hug before he grabbed onto his dad's thumb.

"Thank you so much again, really it means the world to us." Toji reminded you, pulling a fifty out of his pocket, almost begging you to take it. You insisted on him keeping it, joking that the economy is too tough to be stealing his money. Saying their final goodbyes, Toji and Megumi left you alone with your thoughts.

Oh my god. Toji looked so good. His sweatshirt made his already huge frame look unbelievably broader, looking so protective as he held onto his little boy at your door.

You needed him. Bad. And it freaked the shit out of you.

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

*PART TWO IS NOW UP!!!!!* https://www.tumblr.com/sillysillygoofygoose/740703539826917377/one-and-a-half-men-one?source=share

[meanbossart]

Oh boy, VaM is kind of a trial and error experience LOL I couldn't really show you how to use the interface and stuff without a whole video or something, but it's not THAT difficult to get a hang of if you just give yourself a day or two to play around, not to mention the number of tutorials you find out there. Luckily, if you only want to use it as a reference software that makes the process far easier (to this day I have no idea how to animate on that thing, since that's not what I use it for)

As for how I use it, it's pretty self explanatory - if there's a complicated pose I want to draw but I'm either having trouble with it, or just want to double-check angles/anatomy, I will use it as a resource! I use for most of my "proper" pieces (y'know, the nicer looking ones) and every once in a while for my silly comics if I'm having trouble with a pose.

Lets use this drawing for example (the character on top of DU drow belongs to @namespara )

I don't draw a lot of mud-wrestling (shocking, I know) but I had an idea of the kind of pose I wanted them to be in. So the very first thing I did was make a rough sketch of what I was envisioning:

I often do a rough sketch first, even If I know I'm going to be pulling the program up because A) It's less tedious than adjusting the models over and over again until I pick a pose and B) because sometimes I'll decide I don't need the reference, after all, and so that's 30 minutes I'll have spared myself of playing around on the software.

Now, this is a pretty complicated pose! It's in a weird angle and the bodies are making contact in ways I'm not used to depicting, so I did choose to whip out VaM for this one. I went into the program and after some messing around, I flopped my little dolls together like this:

Now something really cool about VaM is that you can completely customize your models, and if you have the patience, I would definitely encourage you to do so! Obviously, you don't have to make picture perfect replicas of every single character you have, but as you can see here I have made a DU drow "decoy" to help me better understand some of his features when I draw him: he has a strong brow, a short nose, a square jawline - these are all going to look a very specific way from certain angles, and I might not always be sure of how to draw it right! So it's useful to have models that bear SOME semblance to the character so you can better understand how different viewpoints will affect their bone structure and mass.

Also thank fucking god for the elf-ear slider. Figuring out how to draw those shits from certain angles was a huge pain in the ass when I started drawing DnD races.

So, with the reference in hand, I go over the sketch again:

Now you may notice that I don't stick to the reference 100%. There's three reasons for this:

posing on VaM is tedious as hell. You can get something incredibly natural looking and picture-perfect to reference from if you wish, but it's going to take you hours to do. So, for the most part I just slap guys together until the results are "close enough" and use that.

In my opinion, you should always aim to ENHANCE your reference material, not replicate it exactly!

While VaM is a PRETTY DANG GOOD source of anatomical reference, it isn't perfect, I often supplement it with further reference from real life resources or make tweaks based on my own knowledge where I catch it falling short (and, antithetical to what I just said, I sometimes fuck the anatomy up further on purpose if I think it looks better that way LOL it's all jazz baby).

Then lines, color, yada yada. I don't have a tutorial on that and I don't think I could make one, because my process is chaotic as hell, but I do at times use Virt-a-mate as loose reference for lighting too when coloring - waaaaayyyy less so however, because that process is even more tedious and I feel like I often get better results by just winging it. It is a feature of the program though, and I'm sure it would be helpful for someone who has a difficult time visualizing lights and shadows. I only started using this program a few months ago, so I happened to already have a pretty good understanding of that kind of thing and just don't personally feel like I get much out of that particular mechanic.

Here's a few other examples of pieces that I made reference for (WARNING: Suggestive)

Now, for the question many of you may want to ask:

"Can I trace this junk?"

And to that, I say: Buddy, you can do whatever the hell you want with the reference material you created.

However,

If your goal is to learn and improve your art, and to recreate realistic proportions and anatomy from memory, tracing won't help you.

Developing your own style, your muscle memory, and personal technique will all be hindered by choosing to trace instead of drawing from observation, so I would encourage against it. Hell - even when tracing is employed as a technique, it's usually by high-skill realism & concept artists who are looking to either cut some corners, save time, or just double-check their own proportions in order to improve further - if you try tracing as a beginner, you will most definitely find the result to still look stiff and "off".

So trust me, there is so much more to be gained from drawing from observation. Make note of tangents, compare proportions, use all the elements of the picture to dictate where and how things should go - it will be a far more rewarding experience.

Hopefully this has been helpful! VaM is a really cheap program (you get it on the guys' patreon for I think 8 dollars, just google it!) and it's definitely been worth my money as an artist since I found it. Learning to use it can be a little intimidating at first glance, but as I said above you only really need a day plus one or two tutorials to get a hang of the interface.

A fair warning though, IT IS A SOFTWARE MADE FOR VIRTUAL SEX/ADULT ANIMATION So when looking it up expect to see a some spicy content.

[iliveformanyfictionalcharacters]

The One Who Believes Chapter 1

Bernard (The Santa Clause) x Reader

Summary: [Reader] stopped believing in soulmates a long time ago - around the same time she stopped believing in Santa. What happens when she's finally given a reason to believe in both.

Chapter 2 >

Ever since I was a little girl, I believed there was someone out there for me. Someone who would love me for me, for every strange aspect of my personality, every hobby I loved and every experience I’ve had. When I was a little girl this idea was striking, it was a tangible thing that I fully believed would happen. I stayed up late as a toddler as my mother told me stories of how one day I’d find the one for me. As a young girl I played with my dolls and teddy bears and all the time thought of who out there could possibly be the one for me, what were they doing at that very moment? As a teenager I forced myself to focus on my schoolwork, however, somewhere in the back of my mind I still dreamed of my person. My One. My soulmate.

Now as a young adult it's become more apparent than ever that that's just not how it works. There's not a single person out there waiting for me, a person who has been crafted perfectly for me and me for them. Realistically I’d find someone that makes me happy that I can build my life with, someone I can marry and have children with. But the idea of a soulmate had become so utterly ridiculous to me that I almost cringed at my teenage self. But still. Sometimes, in the dark of the night, when everything was quiet and I could finally think to myself, I find myself wishing it were true. Wishing that there was some truth to my childish dreams. Wishing that my mother had meant something more when she told me of the love I'd one day find.

Christmas was coming up. I looked up at the date displayed on my computer - December 18th - one week until Christmas. I always felt bittersweet during the holidays, like something was missing. As of recently I blame this feeling on my mothers passing a few years ago. I still think of the last thing she said to me. “Believe [Reader]…the one is out there…you just have to believe.” Suddenly the sound of the bell atop the store door startled me out of my daydream. I worked in a bookshop. I can’t really put a name to my job though. As the only employee I stocked the shelves, checked out customers, worked the finances, and as of late cleaned the snowy footprints away from the door as people walked in from the frigid outside. I worked for the kindest old man and woman, who weirdly enough sort of reminded me of Santa and Mrs. Claus. The old man - Mr. Lou - was a big man with a long white beard and round glasses. The women - Mrs. Dorothy - was a kind old woman who wore exclusively ankle length dresses and always brought me homemade cookies when she came in. In fact, it was her who had just walked in. “Hello Mrs. Dorothy!” I called to her with a smile. She smiled back and adjusted the tray in her arms to give me a hug. “Hello Dear, how are you today?” I always loved Mrs. Dorothy, I never knew my grandmother but having her in my life made me feel like I had the most loving grandmother in the world. “I’m doing good Mrs. Dorothy, just got the last of the Christmas books stocked and I finally got that light changed,” I say pointing to the seemingly always broken lightbulb. “Oh thank you dear, Lou’s been meaning to do that but his back has just been killing him these days.” “Oh no, is he okay? Did something happen?” “Oh dear you’ll never believe it!” Mrs. Dorothy turned from the shelves she had been looking at and faced me with an amused look in her eyes. “He fell off a roof!” “He what!? Oh my goodness, is he okay?” I frantically ask her. “Oh yes dear, he's fine. It did put him out of his second job but he found a replacement pretty fast.” “Okay... that's good. Please let me know if there is anything I could possibly do to help.” I didn't even know Mr. Lou had a second job. “Oh dear thank you. You are so sweet, but you have already done so much for us the past 7 years. I mean, you've been working here since you were 16!” “Mrs. Dorothy, you know I love working here, and I love you two also. I would be happy to help in any way I possibly could.” She answered me with a smile and a cookie from the tray she was holding. She set the tray down and we held small talk for about an hour as more customers came in and out. Eventually closing time came and I started cleaning up the small messes here and there. Me and Mrs. Dorothy walked toward the door still talking, as we walked outside, harsh gusts of cold wind hit us. I wrapped my scarf tighter around me but Mrs. Dorothy hardly seemed fazed. In the seven years I’d known her the cold had never bothered her. “Well bye Mrs. Dorothy, I’ll see you tomorrow. Please remember my offer.” “Of course dear and for all your kindness let me tell you something, something I think you’ll find very helpful in the near future: His favorite color is burgundy.” “Wha-” but before I could question her extremely strange comment she whips around on her feet and walks in the opposite direction, toward her home. “You’ll understand when you need to, dear!” she calls, and just like that I was alone on the sidewalk in front of the old bookstore.

The walk home from work felt different than usual. The air held a sense of suspense, the feeling you get when you know something is going to happen but you don't know when, how, or why? Once home, I tried to shake off the odd feeling I had. I fixed some mac and cheese for dinner and watched a Christmas movie while eating. I took a long shower and crawled into bed still feeling uneasy. What had Mrs. Dorothy meant? Who's favorite color was burgundy? Why did I need to know it? How did she know I would need it? And most importantly, why was I starting to believe her? I fell asleep with more questions forming in my head than I had answers.