#spritz *.• nonnie

[aeperol-spritz]

Hello, lately i'm into sub dick grayson. If you could write one and you have some idea i'm very thankfull, he's kind of cocky and sass him act being brat so should put him to his belong

DICK GRAYSON who whines as you stop the slow roll of your hips, one hand gripped at the hair on his nape ‘I told you I was busy, did I not?’ you look down at him ‘but you you still had to push my buttons’ tsking at his insistence to bother you, when you very clearly told him you had an important meeting today. ‘yeah, but you love it’ he smirks, trying to roll his hips up to meet yours. A soft slap to his cheek and a narrowed gaze is all it took to shut him up. ‘why must you insist on being a brat?’ you grab his jaw ‘I don’t like when my baby acts like a brat’. He huffs, once again trying a futile effort to meet your hips ‘maybe i’m starved for attention’ he taunts. You squeeze his jaw tighter, eyes narrowing dangerously ‘you saying I don’t give you enough attention? hm? that i’m not good to you?’ punctuated by a roll of your hips he lets out a stuttered gasp ‘because if that’s true then I may as well stop. Since i’m not good to you’ with a teasing smirk you let go of his chin.

He lets out a pleading whine, hands threatening to move from the bed frame, where he was instructed to keep them. ‘please, baby please’ he downright whimpers ‘i’ll be good. please just keep going’. With a smirk you straddle his lap once again, continue the rhythmic rocking of your hips as he babbles out broken pleas to keep going. ‘see. all you have to do is ask’ you coo ‘I don’t like my baby being a brat. I much prefer him to be all sweet’

[pararennial-archived]

with the drabbles you wrote, i am deeply and violently concerned for our girl

lol you should >;3c

but here, have some orange slices to compensate for the sorrow

[bratbby333]

I got some thoughts 👀 can I request a little something? like reader finds herself in a situation where a guy is disrespectful to her and Geto steps in to defend her... she would be so relieved like 'thank you so much tall and beautiful stranger' 😍🥰 and he's probably like 'don't worry about it, it's whatever' but in the end he offers to walk her home and he fucks her against the wall things happen 😳😳

`⭐︎ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ YOUR GUARDIAN STRANGER ! — feat. suguru geto

word count. 3.6k content warnings. characters are 21+, fem!reader x suguru, mentions of blood, allusions to violence, reader gets hit on and grabbed in the club, alcohol consumption, p in v, unprotected sex, use of pet names, dirty talk, thigh-riding, sugu fucks hard, one night stand, the pull-out method, non-curse!au author notes. thank you for ur ingenious request my sweet nonnie...i hope you enjoy xx not beta read !!

nsfw 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 mdni

A skin-tight dress. Four inch heels. Dark lip liner with a clear gloss on top. A few spritzes of Chanel No. 5, and you are out the door and heading to the club.

Everything is great; good vibes, strong drinks, pounding 808s reverberating off the walls. The liquor warms your stomach as your hips sway to the music, your over-worked body relaxing with every bump of the heavy bass. You take in the scene around you; drunk couples making out in the corner, a few underage kids getting thrown out, a group of friends arguing over god knows what– it’s all very entertaining. You laugh to yourself, your eyes scanning the room once more before your vision settles on the one thing you were trying to avoid. Shit. Your heart drops. Really? Did he not catch the hint the last two times? You sigh deeply, rolling your eyes as you prepare yourself for the inevitable. Not this again.

Because, of course, all good things must come to an end. 

You're used to being hit on. But tonight, there is one guy in particular, unrelenting in his attempts to get close to you. He's shorter than average, the two of you being the same height when you're in heels. He reeks of liquor, cigarettes, and BO. His fringe clings to his forehead as he approaches you for the third time this evening, a disgusting smirk plastered across his face. He seems to have mistaken your accidental eye contact as an invitation to test his luck once more. With tense shoulders and an apprehensive tone, you offer him polite conversation. Not that you want to, but god forbid you reject him in just the right way to make him snap. You don't want to end up being a headline. Your eyes dart elsewhere, knowing damn well that if you look at him for too long you might gag. He is truly disgusting, rambling on and on about his podcast and his most recent bouts of buying and trading crypto. 

It's a tough situation to navigate. You're out alone. Granted, you are at a club that you're comfortable in; you're familiar with the layout, you're friends with a few of the waitresses and bartenders. The DJ knows you by name. But, you're still riding solo in a loud, rambunctious environment. Even though there is a level of comfort here, it's still a club filled with drunkards at the end of the day. 

With a fake smile and a couple nods of your head, you try to ignore the part of the conversation where he referred to himself as an “alpha male” as you accept the drink he presents to you, kindly excusing yourself before disappearing into the crowd once more.

A shudder runs down your spine, your body quite literally trying to shake away that awful conversation. God, he’s the worst. On your way to the dance floor, you pour the contents of the cup into the soil of a potted plant. He doesn't think you're stupid, does he? There is no way in hell you're drinking that shit.

You're dancing alone, enjoying the house mix that's bumping through the giant speakers, the colorful spotlights that bounce around your face as you feel yourself begin to relax once more. Finally, some much needed alone time. All you want is to let loose after an arduous week of working. Can't a girl have some peace?

"C'mon...just give me a chance." You don't even have to turn around to see who it is, you can smell him. Your nose scrunches up before you turn to face him, another fake smile pulling at your cheeks as you speak to him for the fourth time tonight. 

"I'm sorry, but I'm just not looking for anythin'...I'm just tryna have fun," you say politely, before beginning to walk away. If you just keep moving through the crowd, he won't be able to find you again. But this guy is annoyingly determined and obnoxiously entitled, because after one step away from him, his hand grabs at your wrist, "We can have fun! C'mon...seriously?! I bought you a drink and this is how you treat me?"

As soon as the contact is made, your blood boils. Rage runs through your body as you spin around to chew him out for A, assuming some smelly asshole like him has a chance with you; B, for even thinking he could touch you, and C, the absolute nerve of this man to actually follow through with it. 

But when you turn, you realize you can't see him anymore. Your eye line is obstructed by a broad, muscular back. Utterly confused, you step to the side in order to fully see what the hell is going on. The sweaty hand that was once wrapped around your forearm is now gripped by a large fist. Your eyes trail up to your savior, a damningly handsome man with jet-black hair. 

"Do we have a problem?" a stern voice addresses the musty, shorter guy. 

"Yeah, this chick's been flirting with me all night...I'm tryna get what I'm owed," he spits back, attempting to pull his wrist away, "Dude, let go...stop bein' a cockblock." The mystery man's face twists at the other's bold choice in words. You're shocked that he doesn't feel intimidated at all. 

"What you're owed?" A deep chuckle emerges from the unknown’s chest as he stares down at him. "I dunno...it seems like she wants nothing to do with you," he muses, tightening his grip around the other’s arm. 

He turns to address you, and you finally get to take a good look at him. His side-profile is god-like, but looking at him straight on is a whole different realm of attractiveness. The man's fucking gorgeous. You're too busy ogling him that you miss his question all together. 

"S-sorry...what did you say?" You shake your head a bit, adrenaline pumping through your ears from this entire ordeal, the expensive scent of his cologne mixing with the pounding bass of the club; it's all making your head spin. 

He laughs and leans down to your level, his head hovering just next to your ear. "You want me to get rid of him for ya?" he repeats, his breath brushing against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He pulls back, looking down at you with his grip still tight around the other guy's arm. The pathetic man is squirming as the two of you share quite the intimate eye contact. You nod, your mouth dropping open as he drags him out of the club immediately. 

You let out a deep sigh before making your way to the bathroom. You lather up your hands with soap and do your best to scrub away the feeling of that man's skin on yours. Leaning up against the sink, you take a few deep breaths before fixing your hair and reapplying your lipgloss. That man is vile, but you're not going to let that gross interaction ruin your night. 

You make your way to the bar, keeping your head on a swivel in hopes to see your handsome rescuer once more, wanting to thank him for handling that for you. You pout a bit as you fail to see him on your trek, sighing as you place your order with the bartender. 

You take a few sips before turning to walk back toward the dance floor, when you literally run straight into someone. "Fuck! I am so sorry, I-" but then you smell it, the same entrancing cologne as before. You look up and are met with a devious grin on the most angelic face you've ever seen. You smile, pushing your hair from your eyes, "I was looking for you." You sound relieved as the two of you stare at one another. 

"Were you now?" he asks coyly, shifting his weight as he smirks down at you. You nod shyly, "Mhm...I-I wanted to thank you for earlier," you take another sip of your cocktail, hoping it will calm your nerves a bit, "I appreciate you stepping in, that guy couldn't catcha fuckin' hint," you laugh, looking away. 

"Don't mention it. It's the least I could do," he responds. "I'm Suguru, by the way."

Turning to face him once more, you tell him your name with a kind smile. As the two of you make small talk, you notice his chest is heaving a bit, and with a quirk of your brow, you run your eyes down his body, realizing that his knuckles are bruised and slightly bloody.

"Oh...oh my god. Are you alright?" you ask, grabbing his hand. You bring his fist up to inspect it, the dim lights of the club not offering you much assistance. "Oh, yeah," he laughs, rotating his wrist so you can examine it further, "the blood's not mine," he grins. A laugh escapes you as you gaze up at him, still holding his hand in yours. 

"Damn...you really did a number on him, huh?" Suguru laughs at this.

"Absolutely, he deserved it. Dude was a prick. I'm really sorry that happened to you," he sympathizes, watching as you grab napkins and a shot of vodka from the bar to wipe off the dried blood from his knuckles. 

"It's alright, I'm used to it by now, but having someone step in and save me was definitely a first." He releases a jagged exhale as you pour the liquor over the small abrasions on his hand, "Sorry...gotta disinfect you. That dude was gross...I had to go scrub my arm off after he touched me," you giggle. He watches intently as you finish cleaning him up, his heart skipping a beat as you smile up at him triumphantly. You are quite the woman, cunning and confident. He likes that. 

"There ya go," you chirp, before tossing the reddened napkins into the garbage can located nearby. His eyes run across your face and up and down your body, taking in every part of you. Poor thing. Though you seem so unbothered by that whole situation, there is a telling look behind your eyes, and Suguru notes that you are still a little shaken up. He would be crazy to let you wander back out there alone. 

"Do you want to come hang with my friends? I promise they won't pester you like that dude did," he offers. He nods toward the booths that line the wall. "That's them over there; Shoko and Satoru." You follow his eye line, seeing a brunette woman accompanied by a blue-eyed man. They seem to be about your age, and you love meeting new people. You smile and agree, thanking him once more as the two of you make your way over to the table. 

The rest of your night is spent laughing and dancing with the three of them. You learn that they all work for the high school across town, and that Shoko can really handle her liquor; Satoru cannot. You and Suguru are in your own world, chatting about everything and nothing, taking breaks to dance together when a good song comes on. His hands rest on your waist as you move your hips against him, your bodies fitting like you are made for one another. Suguru, being the gentleman he is, never pushes any further than that, allowing you to initiate the contact. 

It's 2 AM when the four of you stumble out of the club, the tall blond leaning on his smaller friend's shoulders as she guides him toward the taxi. It's quite the amusing sight. 

You stop short of the curb, wishing Satoru and Shoko a good night, before turning to Suguru. "Thank you again…for everything," you say, your voice raspier than usual from all the shouting you did inside the loud club. 

"Of course. I'm just glad we got to spend some more time together," he says with a smile, ushering you toward the taxi. He's confused when you shake your head. 

"I live like three blocks from here, I'm just gonna walk," you state. "It was really nice meeting you, you were great company," you smirk, heading down the road, your heels clacking against the pavement with every step. 

A few unintelligible words are exchanged between Suguru and the taxi driver, followed by a car door slamming shut, before the sound of someone jogging catches up to you. 

"You're crazy if you think I'm gonna let you walk home alone," he retorts, pushing you toward the inside of the sidewalk as he walks closest to the cars that pass by. 

"You're quite the gentleman, aren't you," you tease, pushing your shoulder into his. He chuckles, "Can you blame me? I see a beautiful woman in distress, I have to jump in." You blush at his compliment.

"My knight in...," you pause as you run your eyes down his body, "...jeans and a black tee," you giggle. After sharing a few laughs, silence settles between the two of you as the cool air swirls around you. The occasional car passes by, but other than that, it's a quiet evening. 

You glance at Suguru through your peripherals, enjoying the way his layered hair bounces with every step he takes. His cologne, though more subtle now, still wafts toward your nose. He really is beautiful. You wonder if it'd be too bold to see if he wants to continue your evening. 

You walk toward the door to your apartment, turning to face him. It's now or never. 

"You comin'?" You ask with a raise of your brow. He chuckles as he climbs the stairs, joining you by your side, "Thought you'd never ask."

You have never been into one night stands, but something about Suguru is irresistible. Whether it's because he saved you from that creep or because he is super fucking sexy, you know you need him. Now. The two of you barely made it through the doorway as you’re pushing him up against the wall of your foyer, your lips immediately finding his.

He's taken aback by your boldness, taking a second to register his surroundings before quickly flipping the two of you around, his hands cupping either side of your face as his knee wedges between your legs. His muscular thigh is pressed directly onto your core, the pressure sending waves through your body.

“Couldn’t even make it to the bed, huh?” he husks into your ear, placing a wet kiss on the sensitive skin below, nipping and sucking at it. Soft moans echo through the hallway as Suguru finds your lips once more, your tongues battling one another. You thrust your hips, rubbing your warmth against his leg. “Eager, are we?” he teases, lifting his leg more. 

“Mmm…mhm,” you gasp as the contact intensifies. You’re already addicted to him, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside you. You grind your hips harder, pressing your drenched cunt firmly against his clothed thigh, certain that he can feel your pussy throbbing against him, the tightness in your stomach intensifying. Your cheeks fluster at how quickly he’s getting you to your breaking point without even having to do anything.

He breaks the kiss, watching intently as your hips gyrate against him. “Shit…are you gonna cum?” The tone of his voice is taunting, yet laced with desire. The sight of you using him to get off has him rock hard. You blush immediately, tilting your head away from him. You nod shyly, though your hips continue their pattern. “So fuckin’ hot,” his hand wraps around your throat, your head tilting to rest against the wall. “Uh uh, don’t get shy now…look at me.” Through low lids, you meet his gaze. His lower lip is between his teeth as he glances between your face and your cunt rubbing against his thigh. With a desperate whimper, you pick up the pace. “C’mon…that’s it–cum for me,” he growls, entranced by the fluid motion of your body. You come undone just a few minutes later with a whine and a few moans of his name. Your cum soaks through your panties and a guttural moan breaks through his chest as he watches you finish. “Fuckin’ drenchin’ me already, huh?” You blush profusely, your eyes screwed tight as embarrassment courses through you.

You yelp as he flips you around, your chest now pressed against the wall, your legs parallel with your shoulders. “All that cum ‘n I wasn’t even inside you yet…” He unbuckles his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing erection, “...can’t wait to see how much you cream on my cock.” You whimper at the filthy words that shamelessly fall from Suguru’s lips as he pulls your dress up and drags your panties down your legs. You aren’t much help, small pants leaving your chest as your body recovers from your unexpectedly intense orgasm.  His lips part as he teases his thick tip along your slit, lubing himself with your cum. “You ready, doll?” His head shallowly dips in and out of your needy cunt, already loving the way you stretch for him. You hum, nodding profusely as you look over your shoulder. “Mm. Mhm…p-please fuck me,” you beg. Your words feel foreign to you as you say them, unsure of where all this submissiveness was coming from. But Suguru’s effortlessly domineering aura makes you want to bend to his every whim, to please him in any way that you can. 

Inch by inch, he’s delving into you. The warmth of your dribbling cunt sucking him, the squelching sounds ricocheting through his head, the sinful moans that break through your throat–it drives him wild. He growls as your back arches, pushing him even deeper. Your ass flush against his lower abdomen, your eyes blowing wide at the damning stretch of his full length nestled deep inside you.

He stays still for a moment, allowing you time to accommodate as your gushy walls flutter around him. The pace starts slow, but Suguru’s patience wears thin, and after a few strokes he’s ramming into you, one hand wrapped around the front of your throat, the other pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he bounces you on his cock. The scratches that should be left on the tanned flesh of his toned back are being dragged down your beige walls, your breasts rubbing against the cold plaster with every rough thrust of his hips, the sensation stimulating your budding nipples. 

Every bump of his hips pushes his head into your sweet spot, his length caressing every part of you with ease. “Takin’ me so well,” he grunts as he rams into your furthest wall. You can’t suppress the cock-drunk whines that spill from you, your eyes welling with tears while delirious pleasure claws its way through your body, your tummy tightening as you clench around him. Your shoulders tense as your perch on your tiptoes, opening yourself up to take more of him–if that is even possible–praying he finds refuge within your womb. “Shit–” he hisses, his words nearly incoherent as the sound of skin against skin echoes through the hallway, “fuckin’ milkin’ me, doll.”

He releases your throat, the same hand trailing down your spine before his arm snakes around you, his nimble fingers strumming delicious circles against your throbbing clit. You cry out, eyes screwing shut as your legs shake. “Fuck…oh fuuuck–ahh! Gonna…’m gonna…” Your voice trails off, any semblance of a coherent thought cast to the wayside as a deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. Suguru leans down, kissing behind your ear before biting at your lobe. “I know,” he muses, his fingers work even faster against you, “Squeezin’ me s’tight…”, his hips shifting to push himself even deeper, “...C’mon. Make a mess ‘f me.” You reach your breaking point once more, lips parting as squirt spills out around his cock and dribbles down your thighs. 

His release follows suit with a few raspy swears and sultry mumbles of your name. He pulls out, working his fist around his cock, his hot seed shooting onto your ass and lower back. Suguru places soft pecks along your neck and shoulders, working to regain his breath. He catches you as he untangles his body from yours, chuckling at the evident exhaustion of your body while your knees buckle, unable to support your own body weight as you lean against the wall. 

After tucking himself away and a speedy rebuckle of his belt, he scoops you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style to your bed, setting you down on your plush duvet. 

“Bathroom?” he asks. Your brows furrow before you comprehend his question, still dazed from the spell he cast on you. With a weak flick of your wrist, you gesture toward the closed door to your left. You watch with tired eyes as he returns with a damp rag, his soft touches along your weary body juxtaposing the meanness of his strokes as he mindfully cleans you up. With a quick kiss on your cheek and a soft mumble of “you were wonderful” into your ear, he smiles down at you before beginning to exit the bedroom. It’s crazy–insane, even–how much you want him around. You must be out of your mind…this near stranger—the fact that you even let him in your house is wild, let alone asking him to stay the night? But you want him to, so bad. There’s just something about him.

You sit upright, ignoring the ache in your lower back and the morality of your choices, your question flying from your lips before your brain can stop it. “Wait…can you stay?” Your words are soft as they drift through the air. He stops just short of the door, before turning and offering you a knowing smile, “I thought you’d never ask.”

author notes. certified sugu glazer…what can i say. i just cannot get enough of him ugh.

i’m still workin thru all my requests, i appreciate yalls patience w me 🤍

my reqs are closed atm, but thirsts + chats are welcome! come say hello ☺️

tag list: @admirxation @sadmonke @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @call-memissbrightside (lmk if u want to be removed from tags🤍)

©bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[navybrat817]

Navy, Navy, Navy! The most wonderful person to grace this app!🫶🏻

This totally gives off Florist Bucky&Petal vibes🥹🥹

https://www.facebook.com/reel/130668179932929?s=yWDuG2&fs=e

Most wonderful person to grace this app, nonnie? I'm not, but you are too kind and I appreciate that. Hope you enjoy this fun size fic.

Aroma

Pairing: Florist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky adores domestic moments with you. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Sugary sweet fluff and love, established relationship, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) Graphics talent and thanks: Divider by @firefly-graphics. Moodboard and header by yours truly. A/N: A little for something for my favorite florist for this sweet nonnie.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The second Bucky's alarm rang out in the bedroom, he reached over to shut it off. Not because he wasn't ready to get up, but because he didn't want to disturb your sleep. You still had time before you needed to get ready for the day and he wasn't going to wake you if he didn't have to. Even though he had to get up, he took a minute to hold you closer against his chest.

Breathing you in feels like home.

He hadn't expected to become such a cuddler, a bit afraid in the beginning because of his metal arm, but dating you changed that. More often than not he found excuses to hold you and you never seemed to mind. Feeling your soft frame against him, along with your sweet scent, constantly brought him a sense of peace. It reminded him of being in his shop surrounded by warmth, beauty, and brightness.

My beautiful Petal.

You let out a tiny moan when he rubbed his nose against your neck, smiling to himself when your heart raced faster in your sleep. As much as he wanted to keep you in his embrace, he had an early day at the shop and had to get moving. Placing a tender kiss over your pulse, he carefully tucked the blanket around you as he grudgingly slipped out of bed. He brought his clothes to the bathroom, too, so he wouldn't have to turn on the light and risk waking you.

He did his best to be a thoughtful boyfriend.

Brushing his teeth and taking a quick shower, he reflected on the domesticity of your relationship and how much he loved it. After you cooked dinner together the night before, the blend of spices and herbs lingering in the air, he suggested a documentary he wanted to catch up on. About halfway through, curled up against him under one of your soft blankets, you fell asleep. Instead of turning the television off when he noticed, he took a minute to watch the colors from the screen move along your beautiful face. Once he finally brought you to bed, in just his shirt, he swore he saw you smile sadly in the darkness as you snuggled against him once again.

"Did I miss it?" you asked, cracking an eye open.

"You made it halfway through," he replied, hoping you didn't feel bad for needing sleep.

"Sorry I crashed," you said with a slight pout, confirming his thoughts. "I know you wanted to watch it."

"It's okay," he assured you with a kiss to your forehead. "We can finish it another time."

It didn't matter that you didn't stay awake for it. What meant the most was that you wanted to watch it in the first place because of him. A normal night, seemingly insignificant, but the little things like that shined just as bright as the major moments.

After brushing out his hair and getting dressed, he smiled as he saw the half full bottle of cologne on his side of the sink. He needed to spritz a shirt for you before he left. Grabbing it, he expected you to still be in bed once he left the bathroom. What he found was an empty room and an open door. Frowning as he set the bottle on the nightstand, he heard light footsteps in the kitchen and wondered why you were awake. Did he wake you up? He tried not to make any noise.

The familiar aroma from his favorite coffee greeted him as he left the room and he had to stop to take in the sight of you. Still wearing his shirt and slippers on your feet, you set his to-go mug on the counter and poured him a drink with a yawn. You were likely still half asleep, if he had to guess from your slumped shoulders, and it took a lot of willpower not to drag you back to bed to tuck you in. Breathing a deep sigh, he wondered how you managed to always look so stunning.

“Morning,” you yawned again when you caught him staring.

"Morning," he smiled as he joined you, pulling you into his arms. "Did I wake you?"

"No. You were nice and quiet," you mumbled, resting your head on his shoulder. "Made you coffee."

“I can see that and I appreciate that, but why aren’t you in bed?” he asked when you reached up to play with his hair.

“Just wanted to do something nice because I love you," you said, lifting your head to brush your lips against his. His heart swelled as he kissed you back and he wondered if you knew how much the moment meant to him. "Hope that's okay."

Tempted to drop down on one knee and propose then and there, he stopped himself. He had a plan and wanted to stick to it. “More than okay. Thank you."

I love you, too.

Taking your hand, he pulled you back to the bedroom. "We having a quickie?" you teased.

He chuckled as he grabbed the cologne and sprayed the air directly in front of you, watching your eyes briefly light up from the smell. "Just a spritz as much as you're tempting me. Back to bed."

Not having to be told twice, you ungracefully collapsed on the mattress with a huff.

Adorable and you're somehow mine.

"Have a good day, okay?" you murmured, resting your hand on his pillow.

Bucky fell in love all over again as he bent down to give you one more kiss. How long had he dreamt of finding someone like you? A caring partner who stopped by his shop to bring him food after a long day. Someone who supported his drive to continuously learn, like researching what it would be like to become a dad. And didn't mind getting up early just to see him off for the day.

"I'll have the best day now with the best cup of coffee from the best girl I know," he promised.

And he hoped you had the best day, too.

Our man is so in love! Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[depravitycentral]

Hi, I also gotta say that the uvogin fanfic is amazing I also really enjoyed reading that <3.

It was actually a good plan but why the heck did he even print out chats in the first place and kept them in the drawer under the TV? Like if it were his room ok but in the livingroom? Was it maybe his plan that the reader finds it on their own so he could have a reason to stop the pretend and then the reader would blame themselves?

(The fic is question is Partnership)

Ooh, I hadn't even considered the last part of that! That would've been a really good ending - my stand-by for fics is to make endings leading into shock and then sex or a post-sex haze; I am a creature of habit. (Mostly, I just saw the word count was getting to five number places and was worried no one would want to read something longer.)

But genuinely, you finding the evidence of his obsession was an accident - one Uvogin sincerely, honestly hoped wouldn't happen. And you're obedient, he knows that - even if you have a more rebellious streak in you, he's big. He's scary. He's strong. He told you not to snoop. He was sure enough that he'd be willing to bet his own life that you wouldn't dare disobey him or his rules - he knows your body language well enough from all that stalking to be able to read you like a book, and he knew from the moment that blindfold came off that he had you in the palm of his hand.

But then you did the unexpected. You rebelled. You disobeyed.

You were bad, and while he's initially mad at you, frankly he's more surprised than anything - a little impressed and proud of you, even. It fucks up all his plans, of course, but it's nice to see you growing a backbone, even if it is just against him.

And he did have plans, really - plans to slowly grow on you, to continue getting your favorite foods and 'accidentally' starting a new series or set of movies - and oh? What's this? They're your favorites? What a coincidence!

He was going to slowly ease you into the idea of intimacy; a hand lingering on your shoulder here or there, catching you when you fall (he sent a small burst of aura your way that had you losing your balance, but that's just a trivial detail), scoffing at you and telling you that you're holding that knife all wrong, let me show you how to really cut something. (He'll stand behind you, his chest flush against your back, arms grabbing your own and guiding you through the chopping motion, the extra cologne he'd spritzed on earlier in the day making your nose tingle and your cheeks feel warm.)

(And then, once you're asleep that night, he'll fuck his fist so hard it nearly breaks.)

He had a plan, yes, but he's mature enough to realize that it's all his fault that it didn't pan out (well, maybe a bit your's, too, because you'd decided to grow a pair and break one of his cardinal demands). He'd been stringant with keeping all evidence in check - away and secure so that you wouldn't find it. Maybe, with time, he'd show you all the things he's collected over the months he's been watching you - maybe, but only if the Stockholm Syndrome was in full swing, if you were willingly kissing him, instigating sex or even whispering those three little words with honesty. Maybe he would've, just to show you how much he cared - how much he still cares.

But to answer your question, nonnie, the reason why he has the chats printed out is because he wrote them while tapping into your phone line. Shalnark didn't mind doing his buddy a favor, and getting the bug planted wasn't too difficult. And it would go off at the most random times - when he's out, traveling for Troupe business, he doesn't have a computer or anything on him, and a scrap piece of paper and a pen are his only tools. He records what you're saying because everything that comes out of your mouth feels important, like it's something he needs to remember, like it's something that might give him more insight into who you are - another layer of you, maybe even one that only Uvogin ever gets to see.

And of course, once it's written down, he can't just throw it away. He has to keep them - just in case something you said becomes relevant. Just in case you mention something about him - the large man who passed you on the street today, but you were too busy with your nose buried in your phone to notice. The large man who was at the other end of the aisle in the grocery store as you agonized over which flavor of ice cream to buy with your limited budget.

And as for the placement of where he keeps all these scribbled records of your every phone call and interaction, well, it's really a no brainer. It was the only spot that wasn't already full with something relating to you.

Every cabinet, drawer, closet, shelf, nook, and cranny in his apartment is full of you you you. He's got everything his greedy hands could get ahold of - your underwear, chapstick, button, and bandaid, of course, but there's more. It ranges from things that are less disturbing - normal, even, like a pair of earrings or a hairbrush - to things that are just a little more suspicious. (Like your old toothbrushes - yes, plural - or your haribrush.) Things that could be considered totally understandable (if not a big extreme) and not creepy if you and Uvogin were actually a couple.

And then, of course, there's the more intimate items, the things you had the displeasure of stumbling upon - your panties, for example, and if you were to peruse through the cabinets below the sink in the bathroom you'd find all sorts of menstrual supplies, with your favorite brands, the right products for your flow, even the dinky menstrual cup you'd tried on a whim because a friend recommended it. (Yes, you'd thrown it away because it'd been too messy when you took it out and yes, Uvogin searched through your trash bag just to find it.)

He may come off as this big, imposing, simple, one-track-minded man, but he's not. At least, not only those things. Uvogin is smart - and as most yanderes with brains tend to do, his obsession teeters much more on the side of collecting information about you than you'd expect. He's just honestly curious about you in every way - he's clingy and needy and wants you, so badly that it hurts, and collecting your things was a way to help alleviate some of that ache before he could properly be with you.

So while he didn't want you to find any of his stolen goods, frankly, it was inevitable - any storage space (except the room he houses you in - just because he'd be tempting fate if he asked you not to root through anything in the modest closet or drawer set he's assigned to you) contains evidence and proof that Uvogin didn't just randomly get stuck with you. It was all purposeful, planned, calculated - and you, poor sweet little you, just had the misfortune of finding that out much too early.

Ignorance really is bliss, isn't it?

[deandoesthingstome]

hi charlie! it's me again with more questions 😋

what do you think walter smells like? does he have a favorite cologne?

Hey Nonny!

So I gave this some thought and have a few ideas.

First, I feel like movie Walter is a basic bar soap and water kinda guy. I'm not even sure he knows what body wash is. 'Fresh from the shower' is probably just whatever he grabbed from the store last time. And I feel like he sticks to a very basic, clean scent.

I also don't think he bothers with cologne with any kind of regularity. Might not even own any. It's extraneous; he's already taken time to shower and change and stopping to spritz cologne takes that extra moment he could be working any case.

At least, that's how it's always been. Especially since the divorce. But then he met you. And he'd technically already dressed and was on his way out the door when he stopped, hand in mid-air as he reached for the handle.

You always smell so good. Everytime he's been around you. Of course he's picked up your scent, and knows just when he's about to run into you at the coffee shop or grabbing groceries. He either winds his way through the evaporating aroma to settle behind you in line, or sniffs the air as the scent enters his periphery, ready to scoot down the aisle so you can grab what you need off the shelf. Maybe he dares hope you're looking for a top shelf ingredient he's conveniently available to reach for you.

Anyway, it's a first date, and he's never been one to sweat it for these things, usually set-ups that go nowhere. But maybe he ought to dig that bottle out of his top drawer for this one.

It's earthy and musky (you'll mention it later, in the throes of the effect its gonna have on you), and mingles perfectly with his own natural scent (which you'll also mention, because not that you don't appreciate the effort tonight, you also want to know what a deep noseful of just 'Walter' would be like; maybe sans cologne next time?) And he won't last after you admit that. Is pleased this first date is going so well, but knowing you want more is sending him into overdrive.

So yeah, maybe he smells like that?

[orlissa]

Just reread The Marriage Plot and it's still so good!

I'm so glad you like it, Nonnie :)

I fully intend to continue that story - I've started writing it, then started it all again, and have my notes and plans, it's just that damned stressed out life and freaking writer's block... But maybe I'll pull something together for Christmas? :'D

Anyway, here, have a sneak peak of what I have so far of the sequel (no promises that it'll be in the finished version, tho :'D)

She wrote the note with a trembling hand. She spent a good part of her day composing it—there was a balance there to be achieved, for the note to be intriguing enough to spark suspicion, but not so straightforward that it would give their intentions away in an instant—, and it consisted of just one lonely word, and yet, her hand trembled. Tonight? She even spritzed the paper with her perfume, smelling of lily of the valley and something almost cloyingly sweet, so it would be surely taken as a love note, before folding it and handing it to one of the maids to be delivered to Aleksander. Then all she had to do was wait.

[ross-nekochan]

Il prossimo weekend fratello, madre e nonni vengono a Venezia.

Il mio unico pensiero: finalmente potrò mangiare come una porca GRATIS in questa cazzo di città per ricchi. 🎉

[violetlilysunshine]

Always the Prettiest

Chris Evans x Actress Reader

Requested 

Anon:  Could you please write a Chris Evans imagine where the reader is an actress and has to shave her head for a role and is worried that chris will no longer be attracted to her anymore? And he reassures her that he loves her no matter what?

Summary: You have to change your appearance for a role, and you're scared of Chris’ reaction.

WC: 1,155

Warnings: insinuation of smut

A/N: Thank you so much, nonnie for my first request! This practically wrote itself! I assumed fluff because it wasn’t specified; I hope you like it!!

MASTERLIST

You’d gotten your script a few days ago, and of course your attention went to the story itself and memorizing your lines. You didn’t exactly know what you were signing up for when you started, but soon you were falling in love with your character. 

You read through the first half of the script at record speed, dying to know what was happening. Obviously you knew the general plot, but the story was so beautifully written and captivating. You couldn’t wait to start filming and made a mental note to seek out this screenwriter again. 

You finished reading the script in the bathtub the next morning, having fallen asleep with it on your chest. The absolute last thing you read was your character’s physical description, your heart sinking when you saw the last detail. Nevermind that for now, you knew Chris was supposed to come home today and you wanted all of your focus to be on him. You didn’t want to spend your limited time together thinking about your next project; as much as you had planned for that not to happen, it did. 

Chris walked through the front door that evening, immediately being tackled by Dodger. He welcomed the reunion for a little bit, missing his best friend, before turning his attention to you. You’d been standing at the end of the hall, ankles crossed, leaning against the doorway, and hands fiddling together in front of your abdomen. 

“Hiya, beautiful,” he whispered breathily, taking you in. His eyes trailed up and down your figure hungrily; he loved seeing you in his clothes. His t-shirt reached your mid thigh, your biker shorts barely poked out the bottom, and his fuzzy socks falling down your ankles. 

He walked to you quickly, engulfing you in a hug. His arms found their home, tightly around your waist, and yours latched around his neck instantly. As anxious as you were, you relaxed in his arms as always. He pulled you together for a chaste, but passionate kiss. It didn’t last as long as you hoped, but you relished it none the less. 

He leaned back slightly, mouth still hovering over yours, and whispered gently, “hi.”

“You already said that,” you giggled. 

“Yeah, but someone didn’t,” he answered, laughing slightly.

“Hi, bubba,” you whispered.

He pulled you in again, tightening his hold around your waist and kissing you again. This time filled with tongue, but just as much love. 

Once you were both thoroughly out of breath, he pulled back again, stepping out of the embrace and turning around.

“God, I missed you so much,” he told you over his shoulder.

“Missed you too, stud muffin,” you answered, eyes trailing down his body and to his backside as he bent over to pick up his duffel bag from in front of the door. 

“Stud muffin?” He laughed.

“Well, I like what I see…” you shrugged at him. 

“Let’s go, doll,” he answered, grabbing your hand and leading you through the house to your shared bedroom. 

He plopped his duffel at the foot of the bed and breathed deeply, “feels good to be home.” 

“It’s good to have you home,” you told him earnestly, “for more reasons than one.” 

He raised his eyebrows at you, “oh yeah? Already, darlin’?”

“Been waiting since the day you left,” you told him, chuckling.

“Me too, babe, me too,” he laughed back, “let me freshen up a second first.”

He padded into the bathroom, closing the door gently; in the meantime, you spritzed on some perfume, checked your hair, and admired yourself in the mirror; you were going to take advantage of everything you had while you had it. 

“Babe, is this your script?” He called from the bathroom after opening the door.

“Oh yeah, I left it after my bath,” you answered, “sorry.”

You jogged into the bathroom, hoping to get it from him before he flipped through it at all. 

“Tell me about it?” He asked. 

“Uh, yeah, well…” you told him the basic plot while he brushed and flossed his teeth. He asked a few questions here and there, mostly trying to find out who was starring with you out of jealousy; no one had your heart but him, for as long as he would keep it anyway. You trailed off toward the end of the story, before he began to ask about the costuming. 

“Well, the style is gonna be cool I think, very different from my own, but there, uh, might be a few appearance changes I’ll have to make…” you trailed off, hoping he wouldn’t ask and you could get on with your activities.

He finished flossing and turned to rest against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, “yeah? Like what?” He asked, thinking maybe it was a few fake tats or another ear piercing, maybe some fake colorful extensions.

You mumbled the answer, not wanting to come to terms with it yourself, but also fearing his reaction. 

“What was that?” He asked, weary as to why you wouldn’t tell him.

You took a deep breath, “I sorta have to shave my head,” you answered slowly, eyes trained on the floor.

“Really?” He asked, his interest piqued.

“Yeah,” you whispered, scared out of your mind.

Chris knew something was off, he thought maybe you were just nervous to do it because you’ve always had long hair, and maybe you used it as a security blanket, “What’s going on, pretty girl?” 

“I’m scared,” you whispered to both yourself and him, still not making eye contact.

He reached forward and grabbed your hands slowly, not wanting to push you, but so desperately needing to comfort you, “what’s so scary about it?”

“I’m afraid you won’t like me anymore because I won’t be pretty anymore and I don’t know I just don’t think I can rock a shaved head and I just really don’t want to lose you and if you really hate it then I won’t do it and I’ll drop out of the movie but mostly I don’t want you to leave me,” you rushed out, fully crying and squeezing his hands.

“Baby,” he whispered back, processing everything you said, “I’ll think you’re beautiful no matter what. Hair or no hair, any tats, any piercings, the whole lot. You’re stunning,” he reached his hands up to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him as he gently wiped the tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Are you sure?” You whispered, sniffling.

“Positive, sweetheart. You’re always the prettiest thing in the room.”

You looked in his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and love. Your heart swelled at the gorgeous being in front of you, “well, I’ll take second place.”

“Second place? To whom?”

“To you of course,” you giggled, kissing him quickly before pulling back just a little bit, brushing your noses together.

“Second? Never.”

“I love you, stud muffin,” you giggled.

“I love you too, hot stuff.”

Part 2!

[sylvie-writes]

His Little Love

pairing: steve rogers x reader x sarah

word count: 1595

request: “I was hoping for Valentines day (I know it’s not even Christmas yet but I can’t get this idea out of my head, I had a dream about it the other night and I want you to write it) of Steve taking Sarah on a daddy daughter lunch date for Valentine’s Day, like he shows up at the house with flowers for her and rings the doorbell and takes her out for lunch and they are both dressed up(he’s trying to show her how a gentleman is supposed to treat a lady and to never settle for anything less) and they go have lunch then he drops her off with her grandparents and then picks up his wife and takes her away for the weekend for a romantic Valentine’s mini vacation and they talk about adding to the family while sitting next to the fireplace?” -anon 

author’s note: such a cute idea! thanks for sharing nonnie!

warnings: none

pardon any mistakes!!!

The simple ringing of the apartment doorbell sounded at the right time as you had just set down the hairbrush, now allowing for Sarah to be able to jump out of your lap and dash to the door. 

Today was Valentine’s Day and about this time last week, Steve had a brilliant idea to take Sarah out for a lunch date. Granted, it was midnight when said idea popped into his head, and he was so excited he forgot that you valued your sleep more than anything he had to say. Luckily, you had a soft spot for anything Steve did for Sarah and you allowed for him to get away with waking you up that time. Then a few days later, your husband hand wrote one of his infamous letters and hand delivered it to Sarah as she watched some cartoons on the couch that morning. While this all happened, you were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for your daughter and heard her ever-adorable, squeal of excitement. 

Fast forward a few more days, and Valentine’s Day has arrived. Steve had gone out that morning, going to arrange things and what not, allowing you some time to dress Sarah. She had picked out one of her favorite dresses that was sparkly, as with everything else that resided in her closet. From there, you blow dried her hair and styled it which was a big deal as the little munchkin would never allow you to do so for any other event. That’s how she showed up to Nat and Bucky’s wedding with two lopsided pigtails. Out of tradition, you spritzed some of your perfume and Sarah giddily walked through the cloud. 

11:30 on the dot, Steve punctually arrived at your apartment door, and that’s when your toddler lurched from her seat in your lap and to the door to meet her date. On the way, she had forgotten a sock as you saw one foot bare. With a small giggle, you slightly jogged to meet the girl at the door where she was slipping on her shoes, and failing a bit. You slipped on her other sock and then helped fasten the buckles on her little mary-jane shoes. Sighing in relief, you stood up to answer the door where your husband waited with a bouquet in his hands, wearing a gray suit and tie that made him look even more dashing than usual. 

“You ready, my little valentine?” Steve bent down to slip on Sarah’s jacket and you could see a smile permanently etched onto her face. She then placed her hand in his and the two left but not without each kissing you goodbye. You stood in the doorway and wished the pair a good time. “I expect her to be home before ten, Rogers!” 

Steve looked back at you with a wink, “Of course, ma’am.” 

From the window, you could see the tall blonde opening the door for the smaller lookalike and his mouth moving a mile a minute, presumably saying something along the lines of, “Rule of thumb, if a guy doesn’t open the door for you, then he doesn’t deserve your time.” You knew that today he was going to be showing her how a real gentleman should act. Once they both got situated in the car, you chuckled to yourself and attended your own date with a pile of laundry.  

Around one o’clock, your family returned, happy, talkative, and smiley as usual. Sarah couldn’t stop talking and the minute she walked in the house, she ran to sit on the couch beside you. She seemed absolutely thrilled by the events of her lunch date with Steve, that she told you every single detail and it felt as if you were there with her, rather than currently sitting on the couch folding towels. 

At one point, about five minutes into your daughter’s story, you looked up for Steve who had seemingly disappeared. Scanning the room, you could spot his figure in your bedroom, on the phone with someone and whoever it was, they were making him smile just like the toddler before you. It piqued your curiosity to say the least, but instead of interrupting Sarah or Steve, you just stayed put and listened to the rest of the little darling’s story. A few minutes later, the recollection of the lunch date came to an end and Sarah had wandered off to get a fruit snack pouch, or was it a bottle of water? You had zoned out a bit, too preoccupied with a certain man’s whereabouts and just nodded your head as she asked if you wanted one. Suddenly, Steve put down his cell phone, and turned to catch your stare. A bit embarrassed, you looked back down at the daunting laundry basket that now held clothes. In a split second, the man had already crossed the room and taken the seat beside you on the couch. He kissed your temple before reaching down to help fold. For a few minutes, you both folded clothes in comfortable silence when Steve momentarily paused to remove his tie. You could see him struggling so you stopped your own folding to face him and untie the darn thing. He looked down on you with a smile and you returned the gesture along with a kiss to the corner of his lips. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck and blissfully gazed at him. 

Steve looked at you with a smirk and you were confused until he spoke up. “You’re probably wondering who I was on the phone with, huh?”

With a small laugh, you nodded your head in defeat. 

“Well, it was your parents…” At this you cocked your head and raised an eyebrow, “I was asking them if they could watch Sarah this weekend.” He shrugged and you removed your arms, leaning back.

“Steven Grant Rogers, what are you up to?” He shook his head, signaling that it wasn’t anything that you should’ve been worried about. It was quite the opposite, in fact. “Nothing bad, love. I was gonna whisk you away this weekend if it’s okay.” 

The minute you agreed, Sarah coincidentally returned to the room with her backpack in hand. “I heard Mommy say yes!” Apparently she was in on it too and you let out a breathy laugh at their sneaky planning. Standing from the couch and leaving Steve to finish the laundry, you went to go and actually pack Sarah’s backpack. Although you appreciated her effort, stuffed animals wouldn't be enough for the weekend. 

That night, you and Steve arrived at a log cabin in the northern part of New York. On the drive over, it had started to snow, making the atmosphere even more enjoyable, especially with the outlook onto the icy lake. It was nice and quiet and you questioned how he was able to score such a place for Valentine's Day weekend. Needless to say, it had been a while since you and Steve had alone time such as this. Your husband had now changed into a flannel, and he looked a bit like a lumberjack which made you laugh as the burly man toted the bags inside. 

For dinner, Steve had ordered some Chinese takeout and drove into the nearby small town while you got ready for the night as it was nearing nine o’clock. In your duffle bag that was packed last minute, you had one of your lover’s long sleeves in there, the one that was your favorite to curl up in. Changing into that, you then waited for a few minutes on the couch when Steve returned, a bag of cardboard cartons in one hand while the other held your favorite bouquet of flowers. (Upon closer inspection, you noticed there were as many flowers as the years you two had been together.) The two of you then picked a movie and sat in each other’s embraces, cycling through eating, laughing about the movie, or chatting about anything and everything, including Sarah, of course. 

Empty takeout containers scattered across the coffee table, the movie’s end was nearing, the crackle of the fire had died down, and your head was now sleepily resting on Steve’s arm that had been wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Hey (y/n), you awake, darling?” You could feel Steve turn his head to take a peek at you. Sitting up, you shifted to face him, arm resting on the back of the couch and hand propping you up. “What’s up?”

“I have something important to ask you.” Steve looked a bit nervous and you reached out to soothingly grab his shoulder while giving him your full attention. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while, you know Sarah’s getting older, and we’ve talked about more kids. Now honey, if you don’t think now is the right time, that’s okay, but I figured I should bring it up and see what you were thinking.” By the end of his speech, Steve had taken your hands out of your own lap and now was placing soft kisses to your knuckles. All of this took you by surprise, but the good kind. For a while you’ve been thinking the same thing, but you never really thought to bring it up. Somehow you and Steve always seemed to be on the same page even if you didn’t know it. 

“I think that would be amazing, bubs.” 

There was the most endearing smile on his lips and he immediately pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. 

taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline​ @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight​ @patzammit​ @iwik3it

[enviedear]

aperol spritz for @mellifluousart

join my thousand celebration !

@mellifluousart love love love their work— amazing choice nonnie !

four seasons love draco x reader angst

the rose draco x reader angst

my girl, my love draco x reader fluff

games of love confession draco x reader fluff

[segretecose]

Sis sono do trieste da triestina ti dico uhhhh.... ljubljana è bellissima vai a ljubljana prenditi un burek

no ma infatti fortunatamente a trieste sono già stata altre volte quindi non è che mi perderei tanto, andavo perché ho alcuni amici su e mi sono accodata a un'amica che va a trovare i nonni... ma a seconda della vibe che trovo mi sa che questi amici li vedo per uno spritz veloce poi trenino per ljubljana sia

[bites-kms]

Genova, alleys of beauty

"If you want to catch a glimpse of Italy as it has been lived for centuries, rather than simply something that looks good on postcards, come to Genova". — Nicholas Walton

Genova reminds me a bit of Barcelona. In every corner of the streets, in every little alley, you just need to direct your gaze to the sky to notice facades of sumptuous buildings that you won’t notice if you are distracted and, if you are curious enough, you will find that everywhere there is something that will catch your eye and will leave you speechless. After a beautiful drive through Langhe Region, a delicious and traditional Piamontese lunch in L' Aromatario, a beautiful osteria and B&B in the lost, charming town of Neive, we arrived just in time for sunset to beautiful Genova with my dear Mau. We got lost on their maze-like streets, trying to find a hidden parking, almost like a compulsory welcoming ritual. And then, the fun part of them all, was climbing the steep hills (dont be like me, bring a backpack), carrying my big-ass suitcase, walking down the prostitutes alley, to finally end up in a 4 walk-up, almost 5 flights apartment, covered in unique postcards. What a workout!

Stefano's and Sarah's apartment was a great found gem. Strategically located a few blocks away from Porto Antico, 2 blocks from the Heritage World Site Via Garibaldi where the famous Palazzo Rosso is, and very close by University of Genova, each little corner of this Airbnb was a treasure to be discovered: from movie seats instead of couches, to amazing quotes in the bathroom and unique clocks spread out across the kitchen.

We decided it was time for a Genovese focaccia, a tradition one should not miss while visiting this Ligurian coast city. We barely made it to sunset and it was a beautiful way to discover the port side. A bit windy, a bit cold, but perfectly gorgeous. We later got lost - it is the thing to do, by the way - and ended up by Genova's Duomo or Catedrale di San Lorenzo, patron of the city, to later wonder around the city's main arteries to just keep exploring and check out the different piazzas and buildings around the old town. Piazza Ferrari is the city's heart and between wonderful buildings and fountains one can experience a glance of this city's past glamour and history. Keep your eyes upwards while you walk through the covered walkway via XX Settembre, the main shopping street born in this piazza; you will notice wonderful ceilings and you will see the characteristic colors of the ancient Genova nobility everywhere: black and white.

Moreover, Palazzo Ducale - today's Genova's Museum and Teatro Carlo Felice are by the piazza's sides, framing a beautiful Genova Center ready to mesmerize you. Caruggi is the word in the Genoese dialect that describes the “peculiar and narrow covered walkways and shady alleys of lots of cities and little towns of the Italian Riviera” and exactly by one of those caruggi is where we have the most delicious apperitivo of them all at Il Mugugno, by Via Luccoli. I was excited to taste another Aperol Spritz yet the waitress surprised us with an unexpected and magnificent feast: mortadella, salami, burrata with pomodori sechi, fried ravioli, pancetta, another kind of cheese, fries and probably something else I cant remember. What a wonderful night, drinking with a very good friend, honoring our nonni, enjoying the most delicious cold cuts, appreciating the good and small things in life. I bet a tear or two went down, but hell, that was how we watered the fertile soil of Italian memories. Salutte, amica!

Not only those tiny and curvy caruggi were extremely picturesque, but most of them also had some messages like imagina, credi, memoria. Im not sure if it was due to the Christmas spirit or if it is an ongoing decor, but it made them even more charming.

The following morning, we woke up quite early since I was taking a train to Cinque Terre and Mau was working so we decided to share a short and sweet breakfast around our place: some compulsory cappucino and pastries and off we go. We both have our priorities quite on point so, as soon as we met again that evening, a dinner date was taking place.

Mau surprised me with a short ride to Boccadasse, a near-by fishing villa, to Creuza da Mar, a traditional Ligurian restaurant by a cute little beach and the town's Church. We had some delicious grilled octopus, fresh with with smashed potatoes, pomodori and pinoni (pine nuts), as well as some pasta. We married them with house red wine, a Ligurian treat, and wrapped it with some amaro with orange. It was wonderful. We kept thinking about where and when we will meet again (it ended up being in Milano 2 days later) yet, we were ok with no the no-plan-plan. It always turns out beautifully for us, so we wont jinx it. 2022, we are ready for you! Another one for the books!

We arrived to Stefano's to find out a message with a late-nightcap recco: go down the infinite stairs (again) to find the secret speak-easy called Malkovich, literally 3 mins away from where we were. I lost Mau to the bed and the warm bath, but I couldnt resist finding a secret bar with my rusty Italian on my last night at Genova, after being mesmerized by the beauty of Cinque Terre and having such a wonderful day. So, there I went. One should look out for Groove Hamburger, since there is no sign about the bar, and just casually ask for a drink at Malkovich. Of course I played the lost and charming tourist card, implying that I would be fluent in Italian with a couple of more drinks and even though it was 45mins to closure time, they let me in for one last round. A beautiful, charming wine cellar behind the burger kitchen was the perfect den to do so. Next morning, the red Ferrari of Bites&Kms went out for one last round, checking out Via Garibaldi and Piazza Ferrari. It was rainy and extremely cold. But what a lovely feeling being able to have a delicious breakfast at a charming little cafe by only €1.50. It felt weird to finally be by myself after so much love during these past days. But not for long: 20 mins after my expected arrival at Milano, Ana will be joining me for one last round.

But I yet had one more thing to taste in Genova: the real pesto Genovese, and for that, there is no better place than Trattoria da Mario, by Salita di S. Paolo, 28, a few meters away from Stazione Principe Real. I was soooo sorry I got confused with all my previous day train schedules that I needed to run back to take my train and left half of my plate and house wine. That god's treat was only €7, a big and delicious trofie pesto pasta dish and wine, can you believe it? But what a lovely experienced it was: Mario's was a unique place, the real deal and traditional place, where I happened to be the only woman and obviously the only foreigner (ok, I accept my Italian passport wasnt good enough for the 120% made in Genova sailors) and both, Mario and two other waiters were taking orders like crazy. Hungry sailors, fishermen, working men, and I assume some proper prostitutes frequent this Trattoria from time to time, making this a gold mine for Mario. Free bread basket, an old lady pouring the wine, Mario making speed math on the fly to charge the tables, greasy silverware and very loud guest was as real as it gets, Italy as its best. I was in love. There was no more room, everything was taken, communal tables were happening, disregarding green pass and covid. It felt like good old times. I knew I was on the right place. And damn that food was delicious. I am still hurt for not being able to finish it, but Milan and Ana were waiting!

Dont worry Mario, Ill be back!

[suckerforsmylex]

Little Red Riding Hood - Pt. 1

For my O.G. nonny who requested Lil’ Red, I’ve revamped it slightly and if you guys like this, I’ll bring back the remaining chapters and finish this one out. Enjoy and watch out for a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 🐺💋

“Jackie, get the fuck in here!”

Nikolai was always an asshole, but he was in an especially shitty mood. He didn’t like waiting and I had made him wait with Jackie at the trap house for over an hour. I misplaced my car keys and had to toss my whole apartment for them before I left. I was stuck in bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic before I finally got there.

They thought I was backing out and were arguing loudly when I knocked on the door. First, there was silence as Nikolai checked me out through the peephole. Then, the sound of the deadbolts unlocking and the chain coming off the door. The door opened abruptly and I was greeted with a shiny, special edition glock to the temple and forced into the kitchen.

Nikolai yanked Jackie by her skinny ass arm and pushed her down into the chair next to me. “You have thirty minutes to learn how to swallow this shit and then get it all down, Red. I’m not fucking around. You don’t want to fuck this up.” He slammed down a bottle of vegetable oil, an industrial size box of condoms and about 100 packets of heroin stacked high on a plate.

“Nik, what the fuck! That wasn’t the agreement. I’m not swallowing that shit,” I yelled out and backed away from the table. “What the fuck do you mean that wasn’t part of the agreement?!” Nikolai was waving the glock around and sweating profusely. “She’s taking the shoes, babe. I toooold you Lana’s doing the balloons! You’re such a fucking tool.”

Jackie was in the middle of laughing when Nikolai backhanded her across the face. Her lip was bleeding, but she just sniffled and wiped at the blood with her sleeve. She was still laughing a little. I couldn’t stop looking at her track marks.

“Fuck…right…um…come here, Red I don’t have all day here,” Nikolai said impatiently as he walked over to the closet. He pulled out a pair of black, Gucci wedges. “There’s 50 packets worth of H inside of each shoe. Well, not so much inside as they’re part of the fuckin’ fabric. My guys liquefy it and shit.” Nikolai stepped back smiling. He was proud of himself. The shoe method of drug running had worked everytime.

“So don’t be fucking around with these shoes on, they’re delicate. Take the plane into Gotham International then go to down to the East River Pier. Falcone will send a guy to come and pick you up at the airport and take you to the yacht and that’s where you make the drop. I’m giving you $2K up front and you get the other $7K when you finish the deal.”

I pulled off my Prada flats, put on the wedges and shoved the money Nikolai gave me into my tote. “$10K, Nikolai. They’re supposed to give me $10K altogether. So maybe you’re supposed to give me $3K?” I stood there with my hand out. Nik rolled his eyes and peeled off another $500 and shoved it into my hand. “Tough shit. That hour you made me wait cost $500, bitch.”

“Fuck Nik, I need that money!” I screamed out. I needed that money badly. I was a high-end shopping addict with a penchant for prescription pills and liquor. I owed money to a grimy loan shark and was late by three weeks on the vig. I was holding him off with heady flirtatiousness but he was becoming increasingly inpatient. He threatened to slice my face with a razor the last time I walked out of my apartment.

“Take the shoes and get to the fucking airport Red.”

——-

I waited on the packed TSA line behind a mom and her two kids and prayed for no drug sniffing dogs. I had my docs ready and handed them over to the TSA officer. “Scarlett Agnelli.” He said my name like he was reading a weird recipe he googled on the internet. It was strange hearing my government name. Everyone I knew called me Red. He looked me up and down. I smiled a toothy grin and he gave me a wink. “Have a nice flight, beautiful. Take care of yourself.” I never have any trouble with men. At least at first. They all pretty much high tail it when they discover I’m a lunatic.

I waltzed my way through TSA without ringing any alarm bells and even had time to visit the M.A.C. store before boarding the plane. At least Nikolai sprung for first class this time. I ordered a glass of white wine, swiped on a bit of red lipstick, spritzed myself with perfume and threw on my red cape. It always got cold on the plane and I wanted to snuggle up for a nap.

I woke up and we were throttling into Gotham International. The snow was starting to fall over Gotham making it look like the inside of a snow globe. I turned on my phone and sent out a text to Nikolai to let him know I landed. I freshened up with a little Evian spray and combed out my long brown locks. I grabbed my carry-on and set out to meet whatever goon was sent to get me.

I stood outside on the arrivals platform looking around. Gotham was beautiful at night and even though it was cold, I didn’t mind waiting. I pulled the hood of the cape over my head so my hair wouldn’t get damp with snow. Pretty soon I’d be collecting my money and be snuggled up at whatever boutique hotel they put me up at. I was already thinking about the mini-bar and room service.

A low voice woke me up from my thoughts. “Hey there, little red riding hood. I’ve been waiting for a sweet thing like you all night.” I looked up to see a very pale man with slicked back green hair and cool blue eyes. I gave him a once over. He was dressed in a white button down shirt and black trousers. His shoes were expensive as was his watch. His extended hand was covered in gold rings. His look was a little strange, but I decided he was suitable to drive me.

Falcone must have sent one of his made men. I guess he stepped up his game because of the amount of H in these shoes.

I shoved my carry on toward him. “Is this going to fit in there?” I motioned over to the purple Lamborghini by pointing at it with my mouth, my chin coming up slightly and my lips pursing. He started laughing uncontrollably. His laugh chilled me to my core but I couldn’t help but be curious. I decided then and there that I was up for a little adventure. He couldn’t touch me with all this H on me anyway.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He grabbed the bag from me and our fingers touched. I felt an immediate spark of heat. “Scarlett, but call me Red, everyone does.” He rolled his head to the side and snarled. “Red. I like that.” He drove like a maniac, peeling out, not stopping at traffic lights, blowing stop signs and generally being a nut case.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing? Hello? Precious cargo over here. Do I have to remind you that I’ve got the product on me? You’re attracting unwanted attention. Falcone is going to slice your balls off if we get pinched, sweetie.” This got his attention. “Falcone?” He asked in a soft purr. “Yes honey, your boss. What’s your name anyway?” He grinned a wide smile and I could see his metallic teeth.

Fuck. Falcone has some seriously scary people on the payroll. He’s pretty hot too but he’s about as sharp as a spoon.

“Call me, Mister J.” I took my phone out and started getting driving directions to the pier area. “Ok, Mister J. Where are we staying tonight? I need to rest so we can make this drop bright and early tomorrow at the pier. Listen, I’m looking for 5-star but I can do 4-star if Nikolai forgot to make the reservation.” He leaned towards me with a wink. “I know just the place, doll.” His eyes were undressing me. It was nothing that I hadn’t experienced before but this felt different. I found myself flushed and hot. “Can we roll the windows down in here?”

“Sure Red, anything for you.” J smiled and put his hand up to my cheek. The coolness against the warmth building there was explosive. We parked outside the hotel and I tried to get myself together. “Did you bring the other shoes for me?” I asked curiously. “Shoes?” J had opened the car door and was standing over me. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, allowing me to admire and the tattoos that peaked out from underneath. Suddenly he snapped his fingers.

“Stay with me, kitten, you were saying something about shoes.” J grinned at me again and I had to look away to keep from melting. “Yeah, I can’t keep wearing these. I’m wearing the H you know?” He knelt down and started taking the shoes off of me. He slipped them into my tote bag and left my stocking covered feet shoeless.

“I’ll carry you.” J’s eyes were burning through me. I was slick between the legs and my breasts were swelling beneath my blouse. I was so enthralled by his gaze that I didn’t hear the texts buzzing in from Nikolai telling me that Falcone’s guy was at the airport and where the fuck was I because he was still looking for me.

[otonymous]

angel masque and devotion? It's was not on the list but what do you do for a living? If you don't mind me asking,,

Hello dear Nonny!  Thank you so much for sending in your questions and sorry my response is coming in late (it got buried in my Asks!) 💕I’d prefer to keep what I do for a living under wraps for now, but as for the rest of your questions...

Angel: is there anyone you’d do anything for?

Yes!  I’d do anything for my family.

Masque: what’s your skincare routine?

(Please bear with me as I used to be a HUGE skincare junkie but have had to simplify things as my skin became super sensitive near the end of last year. 🤣 Also, please know that I am NOT being paid to drop the names of these products LOL)

AM ROUTINE

Wash with Bioderma Sensibio Foaming Gel 

Spritz face with Avène Thermal Spring Water

Gently pat on Bioderma Sensibio Eye Contour Gel

COSRX Hyaluronic Acid Hydra Power Essence

COSRX Advanced Snail 92 All In One Cream

Dr G Brightening Up Sun Cream (SPF 50)

PM ROUTINE

Bioderma Sensibio Foaming Gel (also functions as a make-up remover!)

Avène Thermal Spring Water

Bioderma Sensibio Eye Contour Gel

COSRX One Step Original Clear Pad

Estée Lauder Advanced Night Repair Serum

COSRX Advanced Snail 92 All In One Cream

Devotion: are you taken?

I am taken! 😊

[corallorosso]

Se dovessi scrivere un post su tutto quello che mi fa incazzare e che trovo miserabile ne dovrei scrivere almeno 20, quindi li riassumo. Protestate pure, a me fate solo incazzare e nelle vostre palestre non ci verrei mai, a prescindere. Nei vostri ristoranti, uguale e le t-shirt le comprerò online. Finché sono pacifiche avete ogni diritto a protestare ma, io ricordo, che i vostri nonni erano verosimilmente agricoltori e il mazzo se lo sono fatto senza frignare. I veri poveri, quelli delle case popolari esistevano - ignorati da tutti - prima del covid e, continuano, in silenzio ad esistere e a sopravvivere. Loro hanno dignità. Sfilate, lanciate strazianti grida di dolore, con i soldi evasi, verosimilmente, sotto il materasso e gridando alla dittatura che inibisce attività fondamentali come lo spritz. Tutto questo mi dice solo che eravamo molto decaduti, come civiltà occidentale se andare dall'estetista (peraltro restano aperti) è considerato un bene primario. Io sono cresciuta in una famiglia contadina, i miei nonni si facevano 12 ore al giorno nei campi, so cos'è la fatica per cui i piagnistei di un popolo senza dignità, mi fanno solo pena e un po' anche schifo. Ma protestate pure, contro un virus, non contro il governo. Protestate per voi stessi, non per la "libertà". E la palestra, zio belva non è un'attività fondamentale. Prendete due ceppi di legno o vangate che il fisico ve lo fate uguale. Ecco, protestassero pure, finché sono pacifici è un loro diritto a me fanno una grande antipatia e li piglierei a calci in culo, uno a uno, ma cazzi loro. Però, quando leggo che nella mia città, Rimini, hanno rigato e spaccato i vetri a 60 macchine di infermieri e medici perchè "accusati" di fare terrorismo, ecco non mi sta più bene. Popolo di mediocri viziati. La mia migliore amica fa l'infermiera in quell'ospedale, fatela voi la loro vita. Vivete con una paura vera che è, nel migliore dei casi, quella di non rivedere, per un tempo indeterminato, vostro figlio e facendo tamponi ogni 3 settimane mentre richiamano i medici in pensione a lavorare e tutti i reparti tornano ad essere reparti covid e le vostre porchette, dio santo, so io dove ve le metterei. Ieri c'era una fila mostruosa non per il centro commerciale ma per fare un tampone all'ospedale. Egoisti ed esaltati. Che poi a me viene sempre il sospetto che dietro tante lancinanti proteste ci sia la paura di non trovare più la bamba, e basta. Mae Sciutti