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#sorry i missed your party
thankyouforyourletter · 2 months
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Letters I’ll never send Pt. 1
dear____,
i suppose you might be wondering why i didn’t go to your party. i didn’t want to bring it up because i didn’t want you to think i was mad or being petty. in reality, i only have love for you and not a single negative feeling when you enter my mind.
the fact is that i’ve just not been welcomed into this phase of your life. it’s not something i would’ve ever predicted five years ago. i always imagined walking closely beside you. but that’s not where we’ve landed. and again. i’m not mad at you for it. i don’t blame myself either. we’re just here living our own lives and im cheering you on from the background now.
i hope you’re still cheering for me.
you can’t begin to imagine how happy i am for you. i’ve always believed you’d arrive here and i’ve always believed nobody deserves this more than you.
but these parties… i don’t fit anymore.
i know there are times when you have to be uncomfortable for someone else’s sake, but you never let me know if my being there even mattered to you. and even though i’m not upset, it doesn’t mean i wouldn’t be so sad to be around my replacements.
sometimes losing someone feels like a breath of fresh air, and sometimes it feels like having the air knocked out of you. i’m still getting some of my breath back.
anyway. i love you. i want nothing more than to be involved in your life again as soon as you decide you’ll have me. until then i’m here in the back of the crowd clapping the loudest for all of your successes.
love,
erin.
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lavenoon · 2 years
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It's not like they dislike getting their teeth brushed, the opposite, really! Having their little hunter get so close without being scared, being cared for - that's why they drag it all out, and get more time with their hunter! <3
@naffeclipse and I were talking about brushing the cryptid boys' teeth after @themeeplord's jaw anatomy, and turns out I can draw non spoilery fluff!
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icharchivist · 1 month
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wait someone posted this banter on my TL i'm going to have a stroke
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why is Solas just casually throwing a bdsm joke at the Inquisitor i'm going to cry why is he like this
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cafecitoeddie · 3 months
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noctualagenaria · 3 days
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maybe some 10hour minecraft solo would fix me
#i dunno#im not sure why ive been all Eughh abt the server bf likes#part of it might be the New aspect of it and another part might be just how active it is and how many ppl are there#even tho im not like. ever direct or one on one with them its like#im at a party sort of#the chat is active too much and That. drains me a lot faster than i realize#so either a smaller server a Much smaller server or a solo world for a minute#would fix me#because i do want to minecraft#i miss it its good its nice it gives me something to do that i likely wouldn't ever get shamed for#(in this day and age... back in my day id get bullied in school about it)#(not usually by students but some did Judge me Heavily but mostly it was teachers who were like. 'video games are violenntt!!') but anyways#i wanna like the server bf likes so badly#but every single time i log on im like i cant find a good spot ever theres too many people and hhhh#so i log off of it pretty quickly even tho i Want. to like it#i jus dont think i caaann#and hi leo if ur reading this which i Hope you are <3#i would've told you this earlier. If i found out and unpacked this earlier but I'm only unpacking it now and at the time of#typing this i am so so so so SO sleepy and you are possibly just waking up or about to in an hour or so#so mwah mwah ily and such and gmmm#and im sorry if the short minecraft sessions felt Bad but it 10000% wasnt you#the uniqueness of that server js fun dont get me wrong but i dont think it can be like an All Time server for me#so make your own lil space there and ill pop in from time to time#if u want to at least#nya.txt#ow why cramps..#im nit bleeding or anything jus empty cramps bc i missed some shots oops#but its tolerable i just wnana sleeeeeepp
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im2tired4usernames · 29 days
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I really love how fuckin asinine some of these weight loss tips people throw out at me (completely unprompted and unasked for also)
someone straight faced told me I should make my life miserable and sad and destroy a happy healthy strong five+ year relationship so I can "lose the happy relationship weight" and that "women gain weight when they are in safe relationships"
Which is fuckin insane I'm sorry? I'm glad you recognize I'm in a happy safe relationship with a good person such ye I fuckin love my wife dude! but I think you need to look at your relationship with yourself and your body and work on your own prejudices and self image because being willing to sacrifice a relationship??? To become thinner??????? Is fuckin miserable and unhealthy as fuck bro.
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rubensmuse · 4 months
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Hey it's that anon from a while ago who was all flirting with you and such; i think inquisition kinda blows tbh.
Dont get me wrong i LOVE origins, not played 2 but origins is absolutely banging.
The characters in inquisition are all great but the moment-to-moment gameplay is such a fucking chore that it completely takes me out of it. Meanwhile origins is just as good if not a bajillion times better in the story department while ALSO being a deep and complete rpg AND a somewhat tactically demanding strategy game with an innovative system for issuing commands to your party members?
i'm not even past act 1 yet and i'm inclined to agree 😭😭😭 i will finish it so i have context + a proper worldstate for dreadwolf but like... i played Origins and parts of DA2 on casual because i suck at video games. i'm playing Inq on casual so i don't have to endure the fucking combat as long 💀💀💀
i will also say that the story has really not grabbed me in the same way, but i have more optimism that this will change
anyway you should play DA2 and tell me what you think bc it might be my new favorite game genuinely
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blujayonthewing · 3 months
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I realized a little while ago that, thinking over my whole life, I don't think I've ever been the person to ask someone else if they want to hang out with me. Like... ever...? I've been to people's houses and they've been to mine, I've met up with people out and about, but the closest I've come to initiating those conversations has always been, like, putting an open call on facebook. And now I'm over thirty and the idea of even trying-- even with, like, my mom, or nearby irl friends who would clearly definitely be up for it-- makes me feel like throwing up
#fun to be in your thirties and making lots of brand new discoveries of things that have always been wrong with you#I mean thinking about it I MUST have invited other kids to spend the night SOME of the time when I was a literal child??#it can't ALL have been my two doors down best friend inviting herself because she was already at my house#SURELY I am the one who invited school friends over and not them asking me every time? surely...#but at least from middle school onward I just. I just! didn't see my friends outside of school other than for my birthday!!#I can HEAD UP a broad impersonal 'let's all get together' no problem! I can send birthday party invitations!#justin while I was having this crisis of realization: you were going to ask me to hang out that day in ann arbor? I just beat you to it#me-- haunted: justin. no. me posting that I was going to be at the art fair on facebook WAS me letting you know.#me: my ENTIRE plan beyond that was to maybe hopefully coincidentally run into you because you lived in the same city.#anyway I finally Realized this because I was thinking 'I should see if friend wants to hang out' and then was too terrified to try :'D#normal normal normal ohhh my god I am so so normal and good at being a human alive on earth with other humans#me just after high school missing my friends but the idea of asking A Person to hang out with Just Me is utterly terrifying:#hey Everyone who all wants to get together you know like as a group#I have Problems with solo meetups giving me anxiety anyway but at least they're POSSIBLE for me if the other person suggests it#to all of my beloved friends. sorry I'm a piece of shit it's not you there's just something wrong with me#about me
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chainsawpng · 3 months
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me & my best friend used to be in this incredibly close camp friend group like texting all the time crossing state lines to see each other discord sever off the charts & after a couple years it fizzled out like. For Reasons. but still all the time we talk about how we miss that like how none of us really talk anymore . anyway some of them posting about how they met up in philly tonight like we used to & it’s like Oh okay . maybe it wasnt everyone not talking maybe it was just separate group chats
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possiblytracker · 1 year
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me (only sober one in the conversation but tired out of my mind and equally lacking a filter): i thibk my.friends are mad at me
one of the five absolutely shitfaced 15-17 year old cousins also sitting round the campfire at the family gathering, taking it in turns to drink straight out a huge bottle of costco margarita mix where the adults are pretending not to see at 11pm on a sunday night: bruhhh have you tried going into the woods and hitting things with a big stick til you feel better
another absolutely shitfaced 15-17 year old cousin: i wish someone would hit ME with a big stick til I feel better :(
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kiingbiing · 5 months
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#talks#:/ I don’t understand this body#it’s really sensitive to changes and it can’t handle smoking/drinking (WHICH IS GOOD but not when I’m trying to enjoy with friends)#I’m forced to sit back and watch people enjoy what I can’t#in my prev reblog I ranted about preferring to smoke a cig compared to vape#and NOim not advocating for cigarettes over vape#vape will always be better#the only reason why I prefer cigarettes is because I’m v sensitive to nicotine apperantly and I can’t really vape a lot#so it’s never worth it to buy my own one since it would be a massive waste#a cig however#I only do 1 every once in a while (at a party) and I prefer to do it with someone rather than alone#but it give me what I’m kind of missing from vape#1 cig is satisfactory#I don’t really know what my limit is to vaping but I promise you it’s not a lot#and if I get sick I’m stuck on the couch waiting for the nausea to go away#but if I could I would buy vapes in a heartbeat#and it’s crazy how sensitive I am to alcohol… a few shots and I’m very drunk and it’s vomit century#and I enjoy being drunk/ it’s fun and warm#it’s kinda insulting to watch everyone around you enjoy a drink while you have to sit it out knowing it’s because of your body…#sorry for ranting#every once in a while I get reminded about how I am and I get frustrated#ultimately I know this is for the best but that doesn’t mean I can’t watch in envy#I can only take small amounts and hope life will treat me well#alcohol#vape#smoking
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saint-starflicker · 4 months
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Scrolled past another shoot-from-the-hip movie comparison in the tags, this time that Saltburn and Call Me By Your Name have a Venn Diagram Circle fandom.
While I think in this specific case it should not be an insult—people can like multiple movies, so I don't understand the jump to the conclusion of how "You only like Saltburn because you haven't watched The Talented Mr Ripl—" People can like both movies! jfc... Anyway I think I have only found one or two people in the tags that actually like both in the past six months, so the generalization is statistically false. (And it was thrown into the void with derogatory connotations.)
Although I did only watch the Call Me By Your Name movie because somebody in the Saltburn tag said they're similar.
Why can I never find these "transpositional plagiarisms"¹ that everybody else keeps finding?
Yeah, yeah, Olivers, shared bathroom, heterosexual experiment girl, summer lovin' like it's the beginning of Grease 1978 but in Europe, and at least one scene that's purposely meant to gross the audience out (peach, tub) but has deeper meaning or narrative purpose—and then discourse about bad representation—
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Why do the similarities matter? Does it serve sort of "if you liked XYZ movie then you should also watch ABC movie because you might like both"? Is it more of a, "they are similarly popular and therefore impactful and influential, which can be a problem because of behind-the-scenes controversies"? Is it "neither worked for me, for similar reasons" or "one worked for me and the other didn't despite their similarities—so if you liked the one I didn't like, then you might like this other one better"?
...
...Or is it the dislike that becomes "let people dislike things" that reinforces an online culture of bog-standard media literacy²?
¹ Simon Stephenson coined the phrase "plagiarism by transposition" in an accusation that The Holdovers 2023 is stolen from a not-yet-filmed screenplay by Stephenson. The Holdovers 2023 was a remake of Merlusse 1935. Sorry, Simon, transpositional plagiarism articulates a lot of creator anxieties and viewer criticism...but it is not a thing. A text put through the wringer of a thesaurus or paraphrasing and judged to still be plagiarism can be a thing. Transpositional plagiarism is not a thing.
² I write that as though I'm on a hilltop of literacy so first I'll say yes I am although I have fallen off on occasion and climbed up again so I'm not saying that never happens; and this is how I define media literacy: includes a definition of the subject's positionality, the framework by which the statements of the interpretation will be made, the application and purpose of making those statements, and good-faith open discourse rather than a shutdown of developing ideas. Not to say that first-impressions shitposting on a personal blog is somehow wrong or should be more polished, but more that even that shitpost will be itself a text that can be contextualized and analyzed for how it contributes to culture and conversation—even if it is therapeutic for now and will be embarrassing and regrettable later in life if any growing up gets done at all.
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draklorn · 11 months
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@lightshielded comments: ' i have heard many a tale of your mistress, draklorn. ' the prince raised a glass of honey brandy to his lips, savouring the warmth of the drink as he bid farewell to another cursed year. ' but forgive me for my ignorance for i am curious and the legends of her ancient, but... is it your goddess who turns the seasons and brings the snow down our slopes? '
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Mirroring the motion, to celebrate another year lived, and to seeing the next year fulfilled, Devan downs the charming little drink. Compared to their home's own style, it was a terribly sweet thing. But it still finds a way to burrow warmth between their cold, frigid innards. "The Freljord boasts many a version of tales dating back to the times of the first snowfalls. With our shared borders, tales naturally have found their way down our cold slopes, to your warmer homes. Spun to guide more younglings of the world. I imagine some may paint our Lady in… darker shades." They take this lightly, a chuckled hum leaving smiling lips. Their accent falls bluntly on the tall stone walls, in this castle's courtly room, lit by candlelight and warmed by its guests. Fit for royalty. Gloved hands drum on the silver-plated tankard the Draklorn nursed, wondering how many felt the same sense of deafening to their senses, their connection to the magic of the world weakened, buried in this stone. Hiding their grimace from the wafting lies throughout the party was made easier near doors open to the brisk air, at least.
"She and her Sisters watch over all the Freljord's children, in their eternal care for us, and our home. In the original telling of the legends, the frost falls were a time to let the world return to its original state, so that it may recuperate, and rest. To once more provide luscious earth for the next bountiful harvests, carefully balanced thanks to their wisdom, foresight, and care." Their dark armour shone under the orange flickers of the multitudes of candles if the stark difference compared to the kingdom's silver and gold plating wasn't enough. Devan smiles at the Prince as a chill gust blows through the court, flickering candles and reminding all of what lay just outside. "I adore hearing the different tales found throughout our world, your Highness. Tell me, when Demacia's slopes are gifted with the pure blankets of winter, what tales are told around your fires?"
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sixteen-stars · 1 year
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Me, watching people talk about how they're playing BG3 and not constantly swapping out their party for the best results: O.o
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months
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just for tonight
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a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).
summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 4907
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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”
“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 
“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”
Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 
But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 
It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 
Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 
You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.
“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 
“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 
“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 
A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”
The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 
You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.
“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”
“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”
“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 
A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 
The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 
Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 
When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 
Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 
But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.
“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 
And so, he didn’t.
Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 
Barely an hour passed before you woke. 
Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 
Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 
“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 
“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”
As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”
Your eyes then widened, “I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 
Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 
“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 
“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 
A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 
Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 
Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”
He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.
When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 
As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.
And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 
But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 
“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”
“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”
“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”
A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”
“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”
“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 
Can’t or won’t?
Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 
It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 
As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  
Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 
With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 
“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 
“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 
But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”
“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 
“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 
“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 
“To what, huh?” 
“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 
“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.
“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 
“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 
“I want you to fuck me, please!” 
With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.
Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 
Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.
Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 
You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 
Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 
Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 
The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 
When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 
Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 
A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 
“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 
“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”
“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.
“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 
Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.
Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 
“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.
Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 
When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 
Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 
With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 
The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 
Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 
“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”
Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 
Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 
When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 
“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 
Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 
“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 
“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  
“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 
“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 
“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 
“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 
“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 
Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.
“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 
“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.
“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 
“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”
“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 
His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 
Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 
Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 
Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.
“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”
One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 
“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”
“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 
A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 
He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 
“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”
With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 
Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 
The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.
“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 
“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.
Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 
The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 
“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”
“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 
“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 
And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.
His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 
You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.
After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 
“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.
“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 
“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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fushic0re · 10 months
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𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐓?
𝗗𝗔𝗗!𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝘅 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥
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𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟖 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ in which you and satoru finally have some alone time…except baby gojo is vigilantly watching for santa’s arrival.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. SMUT; penetrative sex, trying to keep it quiet, getting caught. baby gojo being an especially cute cockblock. 
꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎����𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡
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“TORU–” YOU PANT AGAINST YOUR HUSBAND’S EAR. 
Satoru grunts in response. His large hands tighten around the meat of your thighs, his fingers leaving an indentation against your skin from his grip. His hips move with more vigor, pounding into you wildly as he loses every piece of himself to pull of your velvety walls. Each thrust draws him deeper and deeper into your heat, a feeling he missed oh so much. While fatherhood was the biggest calling of his life and his proudest accomplishment, he definitely missed the spontaneous aspect of his relationship with you–quickies in places you most definitely should not be having sex in, watching you cook and deciding then and there to bend you over the kitchen counter to have his way with you, being late to commitments because he decided to spend an extra hour or two in bed with you, the whole nine yards. 
You were everything–a mother, the woman who birthed the first Gojo heir in years, an amazing sorcerer. But you were his girl before everything else. And now that your son was asleep after the sugar crash he had from too many cookies at the Christmas Eve party, it was prime time for him to remind you of just how much he loved you. 
“Hah…shit–” 
“Mama? Dada?” 
Time freezes for a moment as do you and Satoru, staring at each other as your bodies stiffen as if remaining oh so still will make your son unsee the sight before his innocent eyes. You quickly snap out of it, yanking the throw blanket hanging from the back of the couch and wrapping it around you both. To the innocent eye, it looks as if you and your husband were just having a cuddle. Satoru follows suit, lifting his blindfold off to stare at his son lovingly. 
“What’s up, little man? You should be sleeping that sugar rush off.” He chuckles, completely unphased by the fact that your son had just walked in on the both of you. 
The Gojo heir rubs his sleepy eyes with his small fists. 
“Is Santa here yet? Y-Yuuji said he would be here soon…” He mumbles, his little voice raspy. 
You look at Satoru with wide eyes for a moment before nervously laughing as you pull the blanket tighter around your bare forms. 
“No, baby. Santa doesn’t come until very, very late when all you babies are fast asleep. Go back to sleep, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure. 
Your son is just about to walk off when his eyes fully register what is in front of him. Under the impression that you have been fully caught, you slap your husband’s chest. 
“Do something.” You hiss. 
“I don’t know, babe, this is kinda funny–” 
“I told you too much sugar would mess with his sleep schedule! I told you!” 
“Okay, but how was I supposed to know Yuuji was going to get him all Santa-crazed–” 
“Because you are his dad! Dads know these things!”
“...You sayin’ I’m a DILF?” 
“A..Are you guys c-cuddling without m-me?” 
You and Satoru’s incessant bickering comes to a halt. Both of your hearts break at the sight of those big blue eyes welling up with tears, that pouty bottom lip trembling as he clutches his blanket for comfort. Just like that, your shared kryptonite had rendered you both fightless. When your son cried, angels cried for him. Satoru springs into action, pulling on his boxers and scooping your son up into his arms. You try your best to, but the ache and empty feeling in between your legs cannot be ignored. 
“I’m sorry, buddy. Your momma wanted daddy all for herself because she gets jealous.” Satoru dramatically wails, hugging your baby and rocking him in his arms. 
You gasp as you stare at him incredulously. Was he seriously throwing you under the bus? Turning you against your own son?
“Excuse me?!” 
“Come on, let daddy take you to bed for some snuggles aaaaaalll by yourself!” He cries out once more. 
With that, Satoru easily diverted the situation. He grins at you as he carries your baby boy back to bed, the latter falling asleep in the comfort of his arms as he does so.
“Bad mommy.” Your little one murmurs as his father descends down the hallway, leaving you floored. 
Satoru Gojo would receive one, and only one, gift that year….blue balls. And not in the form of ornaments. 
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