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Exploring the World of Beautiful Classroom Pillows

Welcome to “Elegant Seating,” where we dive into the world of beautiful pillows, perfect for adding a touch of sophistication and style to any classroom setting. While functionality in a classroom is key, there’s no reason why it can’t be blended with elegance and design flair. Today, we’re showcasing a curated selection of exquisite pillow designs that are sure to brighten up any educational…

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Our gorgeous dark blue saree festive cushion covers are bright, cheery and just right for the festive season. The cushion covers feature an envelope closure and are finished with a gold lace detail. 

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[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 6420

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, kidnapping, cannibalism, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, ignoring of sexual boundaries, dub-con ... that morphs into rape play? bordering on non-con, (mostly humorous) gore, (mostly humorous) body horror,

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen" ... or something like that

13. Hunger Pangs

Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter. Story Masterlist

Steve:

The new room is much nicer than the last one, there’s no denying it.

Bucky comes down and eats breakfast with Steve, and he’s obviously excited about something because he shovels his eggs in at an alarming pace. He gives Steve a kiss on the lips before he unchains him and announces that today’s the day: Steve is moving into his new room. “Come on,” Bucky beams, leading him out of the cell and down the hallway.

Erica is sitting in the far back corner of her cell when they pass. She locks eyes with Steve briefly through the slats of the door, but makes no move to do or say anything. The last cell in the spiral is where the construction work was going on, and that’s where Bucky stops outside of a door that is very much not slatted. It’s solid, and it unlocks with the press of Bucky’s key fob on the pad outside. Bucky slides it into the wall and urges Steve in first, then closes the door behind them and stands at the entryway while allowing Steve to look around first. “I hope you like it,” he says, sounding almost shy. “Tried to make it really nice for you.”

Steve can’t help it that his gut reaction is to be excited about the upgrade. The room isn’t creepily perfect and sterile like his last room. There are warm hardwood floors covered by soft rugs, velvet couch cushions, and a chevron patterned bedspread. The walls are painted a mellow green color that Steve instinctively likes. There’s a succulent plant in the corner—fake, Steve thinks, but can’t be sure without touching it. It looks nice, anyways. The room is cozy and stylish and almost feels like it could be a regular micro apartment. Hell, it’s almost three quarters the size of Steve’s place back in Brooklyn anyways (which is pathetic and really says more about the cost of New York rent than anything else.)

He steps further in, looking around. There’s a full-size mattress tucked into a wall nook to the right, drywall separating it from another room that’s got a pocket door halfway open. Steve peeks inside to see a small shower, sink, toilet and storage cabinet. It’s compact but functional. Steve doesn’t fail to note that the mirror above the bathroom sink is made from some sort of safety plastic, rather than glass. Oh well. How accurate of a reflection does he really need of himself when he's living as Bucky's basement wife? He quickly checks in the cabinet, finding towels and different toiletry items. He closes it and backs out of the little bathroom, grateful just to see that he'll be able to shower on his own now.

Bucky’s still watching cautiously from the doorway when Steve comes out of the bathroom. As promised, the room has a solid door this time. But there’s a plastic window in it. Steve is reminded that however nice this may be, it’s still a cell. Unless Steve hides in the bathroom, Bucky will always be able to peek inside and see what he’s doing. Even the bed niche in the wall isn’t completely hidden from sight of the door. And Steve sighs when he spots the metal mount on the wall just to the side of the pillows: There’s no cord attached to it right now, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be. It's all set up to tether him in place, if needed. The exact same way as before.

“Well? What do you think?” Bucky asks anxiously.

The left side of the room has just enough space to accommodate a small couch in front of a tv. The tv is inside of the wall and behind a layer of plexiglass. There’s a tiny little desk and a slim bookshelf next to the tv. Steve walks over and looks at all the different drawing utensils. He runs his fingers over a sheet of unblemished paper on top of a stack. “What’s this?” he says, and Bucky walks up behind him and pulls him back gently, encouraging him to lean against his body.

“I know you’re an artist,” he murmurs, bending to kiss Steve’s neck. “You must miss it.”

Steve swallows thickly, feeling inordinately emotional that Bucky remembered this about him. “Yeah,” he says, conflicted. “Yeah I do.” He eyeballs the cups of pens and pencils and thinks that Bucky isn’t totally on the ball—those could be used for self harm. Not that Steve has any plans of doing that. And he’d honestly prefer not to stab Bucky in the neck with a drawing utensil. That's just ... gruesome.

“I know it’s not a lot of space, but you can create here at least. And you can watch tv and have a real bathroom now.”

Steve nods, turning around in Bucky’s arms. He looks up at him and smiles. “It’s nice,” he says. “Thank you.”

Bucky beams. He seems genuinely proud to have provided Steve with his comfy new prison. “Here,” he says, tugging on Steve’s arm to get him following over to the bed. Bucky plops himself down on it, grinning. “It’s a memory foam mattress, and these cabinets up here,” he points to several overhead cabinets on the wall at the foot of the bed. “You can keep your clothes and your books in there.”

Steve nods, eyes flicking from Bucky reclining on the bed, to the empty mount on the wall over by the pillows. “... Are you going to keep me chained up in here?” he asks delicately.

Bucky stares at him for a long moment, looking sad. “C’mere,” he murmurs, beckoning Steve closer. Hesitantly, Steve crawls over to him on the bed. Bucky pulls him close, maneuvering him to lie on top of him. Steve sits up and straddles him to avoid being that close, and Bucky stares up at him with a tender look. “You know I don’t want to do that,” he says quietly, thumbs stroking under the hem of Steve’s tee shirt and brushing skin. “I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here.”

Steve averts his eyes. “That’s a tall order, Buck,” he says. “The door still locks. I’m still not upstairs with you.” He takes a moment to pointedly look around the room with an appreciative look. It is a nice room. He can tell that Bucky’s made an effort to furnish it in the same style Steve had, back at his old apartment. Something about that really gets to Steve—more than he should let it. “They’re nice digs, but it’s still not where I want to be.”

Bucky sighs and pulls Steve back down over top of him, close enough to kiss, though he doesn’t right away. “One day,” he promises, eyes flicking all over Steve’s face like he’s trying to suss out how he really feels. “I want you with me too, Sweetheart. It’ll happen. We'll get there."

Steve gulps and says nothing, feeling unsure. This is all supposed to be an act, to get close to Bucky and gain his trust so that he can escape, but the memories from before all get muddled in, and Bucky still looks and acts like the guy Steve knew as James, the guy he was so excited to have as his new boyfriend. As much as he tells himself he's only pretending ... Steve’s feelings never feel as fake as he wants them too. It’s fucked.

His mind flashes to the other night, to how Bucky had undressed him and made love to him. It’d felt so good, such a relief after so long without pleasure. For just a little while, Steve had forgotten to feel worried or scared. Now he feels guilty for genuinely enjoying it the way he had. They’d showered together after the sex, too, bodies close and intimate in a way that Steve really regrets having enjoyed. Bucky had brought him back down to the basement for bed, despite Steve’s pleas to be allowed to stay upstairs. He'd kissed him goodnight, and left.

And then, just after the sounds of the upstairs locks beeping:

“Steeve?! Jesus you’ve been gone all day! What did he do to you?! What did he take?! Are you okay?!”

Never before had Steve wanted Erica to disappear so badly. Again, he thinks that it’s nice to have a solid door and a soundproofed room. He won’t ever have to talk to Erica or any of Bucky’s other "product" ever again. He feels gross as soon as he has the thought. Christ, he laments. What is he becoming?

“What are you thinking about?” Bucky whispers, lips skimming over Steve’s chin on the way up to his mouth. He kisses him in a soft, slow press, hands slipping underneath his shirt and up his back. “Hm?”

“Nothing,” Steve murmurs, kissing back. "Nothing."

Bucky's arms wrap securely around his waist, and he flips them over. Steve gasps at the sudden movement and his legs part on instinct. Bucky growls into his mouth, pleased.

“Wait,” Steve breathes, but Bucky’s already getting handsy, rolling his hips down and kissing at his neck as he gropes along Steve's waist and rucks his shirt up. Steve groans as their hips align just so, sending a jolt of pleasure to his cock. “Buck, oh, w-wait.” He’s ignored. Bucky’s open-mouthed kisses on his skin are like a firebrand, searing hot and just as filthy as the drag of his hips. Steve whimpers and tosses his head as he starts to get hard. "Nnnh, nuh ..."

Bucky notices, of course. “Honey,” he coos, one hand sliding down between them and cupping him through the soft material of his sweatpants. Steve’s not wearing underwear, and Bucky’s fingers easily curl over the shape of his erection. “Oh, there it is. You want me to make you feel good?”

“Fuck,” Steve chokes out, because he doesn’t, but he does, his body going pathetically pliant under Bucky once again as soon as he starts talking to him in that low, private voice; starts touching him over his clothes and covering him with his body, murmuring those intimate things into his skin. “Bucky,” he sighs, losing his train of thought when Bucky licks along the shell of his ear. Fuck, he can’t. He can’t think when Bucky does that thing with his tongue … Precum blurts out of his dick and is making a wet patch against his sweats, and Bucky hums and rubs his thumb right over the spot. Steve groans, hips jerking up in sensitivity. “Oh god ..."

“Mmhm.” Bucky starts to push his shirt up. “Come on, Stevie. Let me see this gorgeous body.”

Steve blinks, stupid as his shirt is suddenly being drawn over his head and then discarded. The word "no" runs through his mind over and over again, but it never makes it past his vocal cords. He gasps when Bucky dips down to suck on his nipples—likely to distract him from how he’s edging a hand down his pants at the same time. “Wait,” he breathes, though it comes out sounding weak and useless even to his own ears. He puts his hands up, intending to push him away, but his fingers wind up curling harshly into Bucky's strong shoulder muscles instead, grasping onto him when he drags his teeth across a nipple and wraps a hand around his cock. "Ohfuck," Steve whimpers.

Bucky’s eyes flash upwards, dark and focused and locked on Steve’s face while he sucks his chest. The hand around Steve’s cock tightens, stroking up and down at an excruciatingly tight, slow pace, not quite enough as he purposefully avoids the head.

Steve's guts clench and his balls throb at Bucky’s heated stare. Later, when he looks back on it, he'll pinpoint this as the exact second when he completely abandons the idea of pushing Bucky away, of trying to stop this from happening. “Buck,” he pleads, rolling his hips into Bucky’s hand and trying to pull him back up his body. At least if he's kissing him, he can't look at him like that. “Come on, come on.”

Bucky’s lips are swollen and pinked when he pulls away from Steve's chest. He licks them with that trademark flick of his tongue that has Steve’s cock giving a mighty pulse at how debauched and beautiful he looks. “You want more?” he asks, grinning. He’s gripping Steve’s dick hard at the base, denying him while he waits for an answer. “Tell me,” he orders, mouth sliding sideways in a smile. “Tell me you want it.”

Steve digs his skull back into the pillow and bares his teeth in frustration. “Fuck! Just ..." He's about to beg, he really is, but he grunts and slams his eyes shut, upset at himself. No! he thinks desperately. No no no, he can’t do this! It’s wrong, it's wrong, it's so wrong! He shouldn’t want this, he shouldn't, he shouldn't ...

"Steve?" Bucky stills, and then softens. “Oh, Steve," he chides sadly, his breath hitting against Steve's lips where he's come back up to his face, close and coaxing. “Hey, open your eyes, Sweetheart, c’mon. Look at me. Please?”

Slowly, Steve does. Bucky’s lost that fierceness, and instead is regarding him tenderly. One of his hands comes up and combs into Steve’s hair, holding his head still so that he can’t move away from where Bucky’s kissing him softly. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs. “Please, Baby. I don’t ever want you to be afraid of me.” On Steve's cock, he starts stroking gently again, and Steve releases a pathetic little moan despite his efforts not to. Bucky keeps murmuring sweet, reassuring things against his lips as he jerks him off. “Always want you to be happy, Stevie. Love you. Gonna take such good care of you, I promise. You don't ever have to be afraid again. Not ever. You're safe with me. So safe. So safe ...”

Steve’s not sure when the crying starts, but before he knows it, his eyes are wet and he can feel the hot slide of tears escaping. He whimpers in shame when Bucky notices and starts cooing even more at him, kissing the tears from his skin. “Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothes, and god but Steve really, really wishes that it was.

“Bucky!” he eventually gasps, when he feels close to coming but really doesn’t want to face the music yet. “Sstop, please. H-hang on. I-I want—”

On his cock, Bucky’s hand stills. “Yeah?” he asks searchingly, brushing a thumb along Steve’s temple where the tears have slid back into his hairline. “What do you want, Honey? You can tell me.”

He's looking at him so tenderly, and it just hurts. Steve whines and hides his face in Bucky's neck as he grabs at the back of his tee shirt, giving the fabric ineffective little yanks and whining angrily when it doesn't accomplish anything. He wants to feel him, goddammit! He just wants to feel his skin, and his body, and never have to acknowledge it, not ever, because he's weak, God, he's so weak ...

Bucky pets him and chuckles at his little huffs and grunts of frustration, but he doesn't let Steve hide against his neck with his eyes closed for long. He tuts softly and tells him to look at him, a quiet but firm order, and Steve reluctantly does. He's met with the sight of Bucky's handsome, pinched face, smiling sadly down at him. “Tell me,” he insists. “Tell me what you want, and then you can have it.”

Steve whines and shakes his head, starts struggling to get away rather than be forced to ask for it. But Bucky is easily able to trap his wrists against the pillow, and his hips pin Steve’s down. “Shhh sh sh,” he hushes, holding him still. “Don’t do that Stevie, come on.”

Steve struggles and twists against him furiously, but then the fight leaches out of him and he’s just left panting, dick hard and face red as he glares tearfully up at Bucky. “What do you care?! he cries, mad that Bucky’s trying to make this be his choice. He's a prisoner here. It’s not his choice. “We're already here, so just fuck me already!” He sobs, smacking angrily at him. "Come on, come on!”

"Hey, hey, stop. Steve—stop it." Bucky catches his wrists again easily and gives a harsh shake to settle him. “Don’t be that way,” he scolds, releasing his wrists and pulling away from him. He get back on his knees and starts shedding his clothes quickly, never fully climbing off of him the whole time as he strips naked. He curls his fingers over Steve's waistband and pulls his sweatpants off in one swift motion, too.

"Hey!"

He chucks them aside, then completely surprises Steve by grabbing him under the knees and yanking his lower half up high, right up off the mattress. Steve yelps as he’s practically inverted, and Bucky wraps both arms around his hips to hold him in the ludicrous position. Steve stammers and blusters, "What—what are you doing?"

Bucky glares down the length of his contorted body at him, then promptly shoves his face between his asscheeks and seals his mouth right over his hole.

“Fuck!” Steve cries out—both at the aggressive position and the tongue that's suddenly fluttering over his asshole. “Oh, fuck, Bucky!”

Bucky grunts stubbornly against him, burrowing in further and jabbing his tongue in filthy, pointed thrusts, trying to force his way past the muscle. Steve wails and twists in place, but Bucky is strong enough to hold him up in the position, arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him close and refusing to stop.

All the blood is rushing to Steve’s head and he can only gasp when one of Bucky’s hands fumbles to start squeezing and stroking his cock again while he eats him out. Steve looses a humiliating squeal of pleasure at that. "Ahnngh!"

Bucky’s lips leave his hole with a lewd ‘smack’ and he drops Steve back down to the mattress. “You need fucked?” he growls darkly, covering him with his body again. “Hm? That’s what you can’t ask me for?" Steve whines and squirms and shakes his head no, but Bucky peers at him knowingly. "You want it so bad, don't you? But you wish you didn't. So you want ... what? Want me to take it?" He narrows his eyes at Steve's desperate whimper and denial, then grabs his hair and pulls slowly, watching his reactions. "Oh," he says. "I see."

"Bucky ..."

"That's it, isn't it?" He scoffs when Steve says his name again pleadingly. He dips down and drags his lips across Steve's cheek and down to his ear, where he murmurs, "I see you, Baby. It's okay. Is that what you need?"

"Nnngh ..."

"Need me to make you? Need it to not be your choice?"

Steve whimpers and cringes, hating that Bucky can read him so easily. He whines and shakes his head in denial, but Bucky has him all figured out, and it's awful how calm and smug and knowing he is, as he hushes him and purrs in his ear,

"That's okay, Stevie. I can do that for you."

"Lemme go," Steve says miserably, tossing his head against the pillow. But he isn't really fighting. He tries to believe that it's because he knows he can't win, but that's not it. Deep down he knows that the truth is much, much worse.

"Just need to get dicked down into the sheets," Bucky gloats, not waiting for him to respond before reaching into one of the overhead cabinets, from which he retrieves a bottle of lube.

He'd had it stored right there, ready to go, Steve realizes, and he gulps at the implications of that. "Wait," he croaks, pushing ineffectively at Bucky's shoulders.

Bucky snickers at the weak protest, wetting up his hand and his dick. “S'okay, Sweetheart. We can play that game if it makes you feel better. You know how bad I want to put it in you?” He reaches down between Steve's legs to trail slick fingers over his taint and between his cheeks. He presses in with one finger, slow, humming in approval when Steve tips his head back into the pillow and groans.

“Oh god. Unh ... fuck.”

“Thaat’s right,” Bucky rumbles, encouraging him, curling his finger and dragging it out, only to push back in with two. "You might as well relax, ain't that right? This is happening whether you like it or not." There's an element of teasing to his words, as he purposefully plays the role he's figured out that Steve wants him to. His coy tone would be enough to ruin the illusion, except for that he holds Steve down with his full strength whenever he struggles, letting him feel helpless beneath his larger body. "There you go, Sweetheart, yeah. Just relax. Just accept it."

He takes his time, opening Steve up slowly, letting his body adapt. He starts up an easy, gentle pace and makes sure to drag against his walls just so to have liquid hot pleasure spilling up his spine. “Just let me make you feel good, now Honey. It’s gonna feel so nice.”

They kiss—or rather, Bucky kisses him—steadily finger fucking him while he slips him his tongue. Steve clings to him and moans as his prostate is stroked over and over again. He curls his hips to try and get more friction on his cock, humping up against Bucky’s abs shamelessly.

Bucky groans in approval and pushes down into it, giving him pressure to rut against. He keeps fingering him, keeps adding more and more lube until he’s sloppy from it, rim gone soft and yielding to the third finger that he pushes inside, and then the fourth. Steve cries out indignantly at the stretch, but Bucky just hums and keeps doing it. “Should work my whole fucking hand up in there,” he says. Steve tries to turn his face away, but Bucky grips his hair and pulls him back, forcing Steve to look at him. “Should fist all that fight right out of you, shouldn't I? Make you cry and beg. Fucking edge you until you admit how bad you need my cock.”

Steve absolutely sobs, terrified of the threat, of being made to admit anything; heat pooling so heavy and molten in his belly at all of Bucky’s filthy promises that he starts to get close again. “Buck,” he chokes out, desperate. “Unh—"

Bucky growls and surges down to kiss him. It's aggressive and demanding, and Steve can’t do anything but whimper and let it happen. Bucky bites his lower lip when he pulls away, panting into his face. “It makes it hard for you, doesn't it? That what we had was so real. That it's still there."

Steve whines and shakes his head. He squeezes his eyes shut, but that only lasts until Bucky growls and slaps his cheek. Steve's eyes fly back open with a gasp that's half due to the slap, half due to the cruel hook of Bucky's fingers inside of him.

"Admit it: You can't stand that it's still there, that you still feel something for me."

"Nngh." He moans at the rough drag of Bucky's fingers inside, and Bucky's eyes gleam with satisfaction. "No," Steve grits. "I don't." But Bucky's expression tells him that he doesn't believe it, not for a second, and the next pass over his prostate is brutally efficient. "Fuck!"

"You do want this. You want me. Despite everything. You still feel it. Admit it.” His fingers still inside Steve and pulse maddeningly over that exact spot. "Say it!"

"Yes!" Steve cries out, the dam inside finally breaking and leaving him gasping out, "Yes! Okay? I still feel it!"

His ears ring from the weight of such a horrible admission, pushed out by shame and every last bit of breath in his lungs. His eyes well up with tears, the horrible words leaving him like a poison flushed from his system. He feels wrung out once they're said, and he gasps when Bucky’s hand slips free of his body, leaving him totally empty. "Bucky, wha—"

Bucky pushes his cock in, not stopping until he's fully buried and his hips are kissing Steve’s ass. He holds still once he's there, eyes shining down at Steve's face with love. Steve gulps and trembles at that look. Fuck. What has he done?

Bucky moves gently against him, rolling his hips in a languid thrust. “Feel okay?” he checks. “Not sore?”

It takes Steve a full five seconds to realize that Bucky's asking because they'd made love less than twenty-four hours ago. Or at least, Bucky had made love to him. The memory of it hits Steve hard, piling up on top of the wreckage of what he's just admitted out loud. His eyes water and his lip trembles. "Fuck," he says, warbly, throat tightening at the tender concern that he can see in Bucky’s eyes. God, he wishes Bucky would stop. It's not supposed to be this way!

"Sweetheart," Bucky gushes. "It's gonna be okay."

Steve whimpers. No, it's not. Nothing about this is okay. It's fucked. The entire thing: Bucky, Steve, all of it. It's fucked. Steve hiccups, distressed, and Bucky kisses him gently, kindly. Which feels like the worst fucking thing he could be, right now. Steve is still teetering on the edge of tears. He kisses Bucky back almost desperately, moaning and whining needily.

"Baby," Bucky rasps against his mouth. "Stevie, can I move?"

Steve snivels and nods. It's a relief at least, when Bucky sets into fucking him. It’s deep and relentless, Bucky holds him close and rocks into him, their skin slapping quietly, second only to their panting breaths and Steve's helpless moans from how fucking good it feels as Bucky fills him, over and over again.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” Bucky pants against his neck, rolling his hips softer and deeper, making it more like it'd been last night, more like making love. Steve starts to whimper and whine from how sweet it is, hurt little keening sounds leaving him without his permission.

Bucky groans and strokes a tender hand up his side, over his ribcage, kissing and sucking at his neck, at that spot just below his ear that always makes him fall apart. “No, no,” Steve gasps, feeling himself getting closer. He doesn’t want to come like this. Threading one hand up into Bucky’s hair, he yanks—hard enough to get Bucky gasping and pulling back to look at him. Steve grits his teeth and shoves at Bucky’s shoulder. “Fuck me,” he growls. “Hard.”

It works, in that Bucky's eyes darken with lust instead of love. He gets back on his knees and starts fucking him harder. Relief unspools in Steve’s chest and his eyes slip closed as he takes what Bucky gives him. In what feels like no time at all, he’s crying out, “Buck-ee!” the words jarred apart by harsh thrusts. “I’m c-lose!”

That drives Bucky on, his face contorting and his fingers digging in harder at Steve's waist as he fucks him more desperately, losing some of his rhythm—he's getting close too. “Come on, Honey," he grunts, knocking Steve’s hand away when he reaches down to touch himself. His mouth slides sideways at the outraged little sound Steve makes. “Nuh uh," he pants, grinning. "I want to see it. Wanna see you cum on nothin’ but my cock.”

Steve groans, tilting his hips more and working for that exact angle he needs, crying out sharply when he finds it and straining harder, arousal pooling tighter in his gut, more and more and more, until it’s threatening to spill over and destroy him. "Close!" he gasps, whining from how close he is, how badly he wants it. "Oh god, Bucky, oh god. Please please please ..."

Bucky growls, hooks his forearms under Steve's knees, and uses that to hoist him up into his thrusts at an even harsher angle. And there, right fucking there! Steve wails and starts to come, shooting hard up his stomach, his dick pulsing near painfully at the lack of stimulation where he’s throbbing and coming all over himself. And Fuck, the pleasure is so deep inside him, coming in fucking waves and seemingly never ending. It’s so sharp and good and overwhelming, makes him sob and break into hysterical tears as Bucky fucks him so good through it all.

Bucky blankets him with his hard, heavy body, “Hey ... s’okay, s'okay,” he says, trying to soothe Steve even as he's about to come, himself. "Shh-sh-sh, Stevie. God, oh baby." He threads his arms under Steve’s back and hugs him tightly to his body. He starts grinding deep and dirty, grunting and then moaning like he’s been sucker punched as he finally grinds out his own climax. Steve’s still sobbing when he feels the cum start to leak out, pushed out by Bucky’s slowing thrusts. “Shh sh sh,” Bucky hushes, still panting as he comes down from his orgasm. He kisses the side of Steve’s head and over his temple, his ear, nuzzling him and not pulling out. He keeps moving his hips against Steve’s ass, even as he softens inside. “Shh, Stevie, shh. You’re okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”

The crying is embarrassing. It takes a minute, but eventually Bucky’s soft words and his gentle caresses help to calm Steve down. He stops gasping and blubbering, feeling sheepish for such a pitiful reaction. When he tries to bury his face in Bucky’s neck and hide there, this time Bucky lets him.

Bucky’s fingers pet through his sweaty hair. “You okay?”

Steve nods, scrubbing his cheek against Bucky’s shoulder. “I don’t know why I did that,” he mumbles, embarrassed. He’s never cried through an orgasm like a freaking girl before. “Sorry.”

Bucky tuts and hushes him, rolling them onto their sides. He slips out of Steve’s body with the motion, but he makes up for it by tangling their legs together. “Don’t apologize,” he says softly. His hands are petting over the skin of Steve’s back now, up and down, soothing him. “Sometimes you just have to let it out.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just lets Steve hide against his body and avoid the conversation about what the fuck it is they’re doing. Steve can’t think about that right now. He just has to give his poor fucking brain a rest. It deserves that much, goddammit. Sniffling, he nuzzles into Bucky’s chest and inhales the scent of sweat and testosterone, taking comfort in the strong man holding him in his arms. The man who loves him, and treats him so nice, and fucks him so good, who wants to keep him and who … also happens to be a cannibal serial killer.

Just for right now, Steve lets himself ignore that last bit.

Bucky:

Bucky wakes with a gasped “Becca!” his eyes shooting open. He’s panting from fear and his heart is racing in a way that feels awful, but he quickly realizes where he is. Steve is in his arms. They’re in Steve’s room.

Bucky exhales hugely and closes his eyes and calms himself down. It’s okay. It was just a dream. He’s here. He's safe.

Steve doesn’t stir when he finagles himself off the bed and gets dressed. Bucky considers waking him to say goodbye, but Steve looks so peaceful lying there, and Bucky isn’t sure he’ll improve his mood by waking him just to announce that he’s leaving him alone in the room. Bucky knows Steve still sees it as a jail cell.

So instead he covers Steve up to the shoulders with the blanket and leaves the room as quietly as he can. He’ll be back down in an hour or two with late lunches for Steve and for Erica. Bucky takes good care of his girls. Pain meds and comfortable rooms aside, he’s always liked cooking them nice food. He’s not a sadist, despite what Steve seems to think. But if he’s being completely honest with himself, he’s definitely been putting more effort into Steve’s meals than he ever has for the girls before. Steve is better, and he deserves better.

Bucky has to pass by all the other rooms on his way out from the spiral and towards the stairs that lead upstairs.

“Hey!”

He stops and backtracks two steps, surprised. Erica is at the door to her cell, somehow hobbled over there and standing upright. She’s holding onto the wooden slats to keep her balance on her remaining leg. Bucky raises an eyebrow at her and steps closer, not missing how she flinches at the proximity. Normally she just trembles and stays completely silent whenever Bucky’s in the basement, so this is novel behavior. He peeks through the door at her. “Yes?”

She blinks at him, looking nervous but steadfast. “What’d you do to him?”

Bucky smirks. “Do?”

“You had him up there all day yesterday. I know you did something.”

Bucky almost laughs at her confrontational attitude. “Aw, did you and Steve make friends?”

She doesn’t say anything, just tightens her lips into a thin line. Bucky eyes up her body. She’s wearing one of the hospital gowns he gives all the girls once they’ve begun their surgeries. He wonders what cut will be next for her. Carlo’s already asked to meet her, but Bucky’s answer to that was and is a firm no. He’s not into psychologically torturing his girls any more than necessary, even though Carlo clearly is. The knowledge that you’re being slowly eaten and are going to die on an operating table is more than enough punishment, even for sins as bad as theirs.

“Lunch'll be ready in about an hour,” Bucky tells her sweetly, when she just scowls at him.

Upstairs, his phone is in the living room, screen lit up with a text message notification from Carlo. Speak of the devil, he thinks, swiping open the screen.

📱Carlo [Today 12:03 pm]: What do tits taste like?

Bucky makes a face at his phone and texts back.

📱Chef J. [Today 12:57 pm]: Lean cuts first, fatty cuts last, remember?

Erica’s definitely still too stressed to start hacking off the fatty parts. Two seconds later, Bucky’s phone buzzes with another text.

📱Carlo [Today 12:57 pm]: Well what’s lean?

Bucky sighs. Sometimes he forgets how damn ignorant people who didn’t go to medical school are. He sends a text with a short list of lean cuts he can provide while still keeping Erica alive. Carlo quickly responds that: fine, he’ll take the other leg.

📱Carlo [Today 12:59 pm]: And can I have a piece of her hair?

“Ugh.” Bucky’s least favorite part of his entire operation is how his customers want the freaky shit, too. Hair and lingerie are the most commonly requested items. Bucky thinks it’s gross, doesn’t like the reminder that he’s technically got something in common with these freaks. It’s about the food for Bucky, the intimacy of the experience, not the sick and twisted fantasies his fucked-up clients have.

📱Chef J. [Today 12:59 pm]: Sure

He flops down onto the couch with a sigh, feeling tired and bored. After spending the whole day with Steve yesterday, being alone in the house suddenly feels incredibly lonely. He turns on the television to try and distract himself, but it’s no use, he just winds up sitting there and ruminating on Steve and how to best win him over to seeing Bucky’s way of things.

He supposes he could talk to him more about it, just open up and be honest. Talk about his past, or dig around in his records and show Steve the variety of human scum that he actually sources for his business. Bucky doesn’t have confidence that any of those methods would improve the situation. They might just make Steve turn further away, and that’s the last thing Bucky wants. Grunting, he flicks the tv off and shoves up to go over and root through the kitchen to figure out what he’s making for lunch.

He needs to go shopping, he thinks. There’s hardly anything in the pantry to play around with. He grabs a box of bucatini noodles and puts them on the counter, then finds the cream and parmesan in the fridge. He idly wonders if the piddly local grocery store might have Chanterelle mushrooms. He’s got plenty of garlic and white cooking wine, is pretty sure there's a bag of peas in the freezer. If he were making it for himself, Bucky might go the carbonara route, but he’s got a strict policy of not serving any of the girls meat. It’s not worth the inevitable suspicion and stress. And Bucky knows that it’ll be hard for Steve to eat bacon with any sort of comfortability this soon, since he witnessed Bucky eating ‘other bacon’ just yesterday morning.

Bucky sighs and leans against the kitchen island, wondering if he’s hoping for too much to expect Steve to ever come around. Even if Steve never wants to try it himself, if he could just accept it as part of Bucky, that would be so wonderful. It’d be so freeing.

As for the ultimate intimacy of having Steve willingly offer some part of himself up for—

Bucky quickly shakes his head and pushes the thought away. That’s never going to happen. He definitely won’t win Steve over if he ever reveals that fantasy. Steve wouldn’t understand. Bucky would lose him. Sighing, he looks around the living room, feeling morose at his expensive house that he has nobody to share with, the gourmet kitchen he cooks in alone, all the architecture and art that nobody but him ever appreciates.

His eyes land on one of the pieces he’s got hanging in the foyer. It’s an unusual style that’s reminiscent of the medieval period. And unusual subject matter too, with a hand dangling a bit of parsley over the heads of two fish. Bucky has an affinity for oddball, slightly dark artwork. And it’s kind of hilarious to him that this one was painted by one of Natasha’s boys—who is now deceased and probably sitting on a shelf in some walk-in fridge right about n—

Bucky’s lips part as a novel idea occurs to him. Oh. 

Maybe explaining all of his own opinions and reasons for doing what he does isn’t the way to convince Steve to stay. Maybe he needs to provide Steve with some outside perspective.

Maybe ... he should host a dinner party.

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[blitzsicedcoffee]

Hellatober Day 12 Ficlet- Murder

(My take on a 'Blitz is hired to kill Stolas' au)

Blitz loads up the guns and angelic bullets into the back of the van. When he started IMP he knew it would be dangerous. Killing hell's Elite is harder than killing anything really. Because everyone on every side hates you for it.

Just a few months in and their office has already gotten raided by police, raided by the mob, raided by angry elite family members that sick their hellhounds on them. And Blitz himself has probably five different mugshots by now? But what else are his options? It's not like an imp like him has any other ones.

Loona had to get a job at stylish occult cause he decided it was too dangerous for her to hang around the office. And Blitz drives Millie and Moxxie to and from work every single day. Just to make sure they don't get jumped by people sour about their hits.

"Sir before you do this last one can you take us home?" Moxxie asks as he polishes his gun.

"Sure Moxxie, Millie, get your stuff", he replies and grabs his keys, closing up the back as Millie jumps in the passenger and Moxxie jumps in the back.

"And you're sure you got this one on your own?" Moxxie asks. Blitz rolls his eyes, M&M are so protective. He's supposed to be the ones protective of them.

"Yeah Moxx, I got it. Spend a nice evening in, Kay? I'll text you when it's done", he stops the van in front of their apartment.

"Okay B we'll be expecting that text!" Millie says and squeezes his shoulder then they head inside.

He makes sure he sees their living room window light turn on then he leaves.

The person who wanted this chump dead didn't really say why. But Blitz about a month in also stopped asking. It wasn't his business. Killing someone he's told to is.

He parks behind a wall where there's a small cracked opening and slithers into a well maintained garden. Checking that he has the angelic blade and enough bullets, he continues with his rifle slinged over his back.

Like a salamander, he slithers past bushes and up a tree. Taking station. He sets up his rifle and puts in the angelic bullets. They mildly sting against his fingers so he pulls his gloves down a little bit to cover them.

Luckily the rich bastard left his balcony wide open. There is a nice breeze in the air tonight but it's foolish. Comfortable. He looks through his scope and aims straight at the grey figure in the bed.

"Gotcha bitch..", he whispers when the grey figure stirs just as he pulls the trigger. The figure moving throws him off and the rifle slips a little and shoots past the bed. Blitz covers his mouth. Trying to slow his breathing as the grey figure puts on a robe.

Suddenly there's magic underneath him, floating him upside down over the balcony and into the room, plopping him onto the bed. Leaving his rifle in the tree. He stares at the figure as it walks out from the shadows. A Goetian prince. He knew this of course. But he never likes to see their faces.

Blitz fumbles his hands to his side and pulls out the angelic dagger, pointing it towards the Prince.

"Tch, I'm guessing my wife paid you for this, hmm?" He says non chalantly. Blitz's eyes dart around the room.

"Uh..maybe", he says. Still holding out the blade towards him. Stolas sits next to him on the bed.

"I'm not going to hurt you", he says and Blitz smirks, "Then you're naive", and attempts to tackle the prince but he freezes him with magic again, Blitz's insides cold and paralyzed a moment as Stolas grabs the dagger and throws it to the other side of the room, it landing in a chair cushion. Then unfreezes him.

Blitz holds his chest and looks to the prince in well- not fear but-hesitancy.

"There. That's better. Now. What's your name", he says. Blitz blinks, 'Uh..." Stolas chuckles, "I won't bite you know".

"How do I know that?" He replies which makes Stolas chuckle again. Blitz smirks again.

"I still have to do my job you know", he points to the knife across the room. Stolas sighs, "What if I made you a better proposal".

Blitz thinks, "What like more money to kill your wife?" Stolas shakes his head, "Satan-no. As horrid as she is, I don't want her dead. My daughter needs her mother. I mean- what is it you want or need. Anything".

Love. Companionship. Belonging.

Blitz narrows his eyes, "Are you bluffing with me? This some prank for a Voxtech show?" He scooches away from Stolas.

Stolas puts his hands up, "No, no of course not. I wouldn't lie to you".

"Then why offer me anything?" He cocks his head. Stolas shrugs, "I don't want to die?" Fair point.

Blitz thinks for a moment. "Well, do you have a way to earth? I'd rather kill humans than the elite in hell. So much easier", he says and Stolas is taken aback but looks in his Grimoire, flipping through pages.

Stolas points, "Hmm. Would an Asmodean Crystal do?"

Blitz's eyes grow wide and he coughs, "Y-you'd get one of those for me?"

"I have connections, I could try at the very least", Stolas replies, closing the Grimoire, "Would that suffice?"

"That would more than fucking suffice", he says and hops off the bed, looking back to make sure Stolas isn't going to freeze him with magic again.

Stolas walks over and pulls the dagger out, ignoring the pain in his hand from the hilt and hands it to Blitz.

"We have a deal, then?" He asks, smiling.

Blitz takes the dagger back and stows it. Shaking his hand, "Deal". He attempts to let go of the prince's hand but he is still squeezing.

Blitz looks up at him nervously, "Uh, your highness...my hand". Stolas blinks, "Oh, sorry", he replies and relinquishes Blitz's hand.

Blitz hands Stolas his phone and Stolas puts his number in. Blitz names it "The Prince".

"So you'll tell me when you have the crystal?" He asks. Stolas nods, "I will". Blitz backs away and hits his back against the balcony doors.

"U-uh okay I'll be going now", he awkwardly leaves over the balcony as Stolas waves.

"Farewell".

[salley44]

A Cloud-Like Comfort: A Review of the Orthopedic Dog Bed

Orthopedic Dog Bed for Large Dogs, Dog Couch Design with Egg Foam Support, Removable, Machine Washable Plush Cover and Non-Slip Bottom with Four Sided Bolster Cushion (Gray)

First Impressions: A Luxurious Arrival

When the Orthopedic Dog Bed arrived, I was immediately impressed by its substantial size and plush appearance. The gray color scheme is both stylish and timeless, complementing any home decor. The bed's weight suggests a high-quality construction, and the soft, removable cover invites immediate cuddles.

A Dreamy Comfort Zone: Egg Foam Support

The heart of this bed lies in its egg foam support. This innovative material provides optimal comfort and support for my large breed dog. The foam contours to their body shape, relieving pressure points and promoting healthy sleep posture. After a long day of play, my furry friend sinks into the bed, visibly relaxed and content.

A Hygienic Haven: Removable and Washable Cover

One of the standout features of this bed is its removable and machine-washable cover. This makes it incredibly easy to keep clean, especially considering the inevitable shedding and accidents that can occur. The cover is made from a soft, plush material that is gentle on my dog's skin and easy to care for.

A Non-Slip Sanctuary: Secure and Stable

The non-slip bottom of the bed ensures that it stays firmly in place, even during the most energetic play sessions. This is particularly important for larger dogs who can be prone to sliding or shifting their beds. The four-sided bolster cushion provides additional support and comfort, creating a cozy cocoon for my furry friend to retreat to.

A Worthy Investment: A Happy and Healthy Dog

Investing in a high-quality dog bed is an investment in your pet's overall well-being. This orthopedic bed offers superior comfort, support, and hygiene, making it a worthwhile purchase. By providing a comfortable and supportive sleep environment, we can help our furry companions maintain optimal health and happiness.

Conclusion: A Luxurious Retreat for Your Furry Friend

In conclusion, the Orthopedic Dog Bed is a luxurious and functional addition to any home. Its combination of egg foam support, removable cover, and non-slip bottom make it an ideal choice for dogs of all sizes. By providing a comfortable and supportive sleep environment, we can help our furry friends relax, rejuvenate, and live their best lives.

[derelictlovefool]

Idk if you've gotten this ask before, but I was wondering if you could possibly do the seeds with a trans male reader (non deputy if that's ok) who's pre op and dealing with general dysphoria?

I haven't gotten an ask like this yet and I absolutely can! I decided to do small headcanons and short snippet-fics for each of them, hope that format's okay! <3

Firstly If you wear binders he is ready to buy you every brand of binder on the market until you find one you like and when you do he'll fill your closet with as many as you want in every colour available.

If binders don't work for you then he's getting you clothes custom fitted to help give you a flatter look and a billion jackets/hoodies that are stylish as well as Big.

John understands the importance of the Comfort Hoodie and will always have a spare in his car or stashed somewhere in case you go somewhere without one and get hit with a sudden wave of dysphoria.

He will be over the moon if you steal a pair of his boxers, he'll get you your own but seeing you wear his drives him insane.

If you have bottom dysphoria he'll get you as many packers as you want/need, he's got the cash he's gonna use it to help you be as comfortable as possible.

If it's just a particularly bad day he'll cancel all his meetings and other obligations to cuddle and help you through it.

He will have all your comfort movies at the ready, your favourite snacks and drinks lined up and he'll bathe you in loving reassurance until he loses his voice.

John adores you and your body and he'll remind you of that and that he'll love you and your body no matter what point in your transition you're at. 

John's number one priority is making sure you're feeling as okay as possible during these moments so if you need more physical affection he will stick to you like glue.

If you need some physical distance you will be wrapped in a blanket burrito and he'll relent to just giving you cheek kisses and playing with your hair.

If you need some words of affirmation he's got that covered too, you are his gorgeous boyfriend and he wouldn't trade you for anything or anyone in the world!

If you voice some insecurities you have John will be ready to dismantle each one of them and though he can't make them vanish he can do his best to give you sweet affirmations and reminders.

He will also just listen if that's what you want but he's got a million different ways to tell you how perfect you are and comfort you about anything he can't actively help with.

That said I am a firm believer he would offer to pay for any surgeries you may want in the future and if you're scared of surgery he would assure you he'd only get the best surgeon and find a way to be there with you. (John paying off the hospital to be in the room during the surgery? it's more likely than you think.)

Overall John is very big on comfort and assurance and making sure you feel loved and desired when you're not feeling your best.

You bury yourself further into the quilt John had brought down from the bedroom, the cold weather allowing the surplus of fabric covering you to be rather cosy and comfortable. That was about the only thing that was comfortable right now, your mind buzzing and stomach churning with discomfort as you tried to disappear into the plush leather couch. You knew the moment you woke up today was going to be rough, you'd avoided the bathroom mirror at all costs and piled on your comfort clothes one after the other.

You tried to focus on the movie John had put on for you, one of your favourites playing on the screen of the old tv you'd convinced him to get. Despite the project's outlook on technology John prioritised your wants and needs to an extent, an old shitty tv and dvd player surely wouldn't hurt anyone. Everything on the screen was bleary, you could barely focus on anything going on. You close your eyes, brows furrowing as that ever present dreadful feeling weighs you down into the cushions. This sucked, it sucked a lot.

"Did I miss anything?"

John's familiar cadence dances through the air, cutting through the static that had been clogging your eardrums and you shake your head gently, keeping your eyes closed. You hear the sound of him placing your mugs on the coffee table before feeling a gentle pressure on your forehead; John's lips pressed against your skin

"How are you feeling my darling boy? Any better?" He murmurs just as gently, resting his forehead against yours and caressing your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You blink open your eyes to see he was kneeling in front of you, two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the table behind him. It's such a small thing, but paired with the way he called off all his plans for the day and the way he'd been taking care of you all morning the gesture makes your heart melt. You finally meet his adoring gaze and feel a small bit of the heaviness lift off your chest.

"Not really." You answer honestly, worming your hand out of the bundle of fabric to grab John's hand and press a small kiss to his palm.

"I really appreciate you trying to help though." You mutter and nuzzle your cheek against his palm as you offer your gratitude for his actions, a small smile gracing your face as his becomes almost lovestruck.

"Anything for you love, let me know if you need anything at all." He presses another kiss to your forehead and you lightly tug him forward.

"Cuddles would be nice."

As soon as the words leave your mouth John is standing and maneuvering himself under the quilt with you, his lean form curling around you and his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you against him. You try to focus on the warmth his body provides and the sweet kisses he presses against your neck and shoulder and nothing else. You place your hands over his, letting him intertwine your fingers together and smiling as he gently runs his thumb over your knuckles.

"Thank you for staying home with me, I know you've been super busy lately." You say as you play with his hand idly, the closeness offering a small bit of comfort. Feeling John's heartbeat against your back felt grounding and you really appreciated it.

"Never too busy for you darling, I'd choose being home with you over everything else, you know that." He hums, pressing a kiss behind your ear before resting his chin on your shoulder. 

"I do. Still, thank you." You repeat the sentiment and John chuckles, squeezing your hand gently.

"Of course."

Faith's first solution always involves offering to give you a small hit of bliss, can't feel dysphoric when you're high and hallucinating I guess?

If that doesn't sound like a bad idea she will take super close care of you while you're blissed, I imagine you'd mostly just cuddle the entire time while she plays with your hair and peppers your face in kisses.

If you are not a fan of that idea no problem, she will offer lots of physical and verbal affection and other ideas!

She'll happily ditch her duties to spend the day to dot on you (as well using it as an excuse to relax and spend time with her favourite person; you).

Faith is a little more laid back when it comes to affection and reassuring you, she doesn't lay it on as thick as John but she lets you know she's there for you and ready to do whatever you need.

She goes more for the distraction approach, taking your mind off of it one way or another. 

She'd suggest a few things; making out, going for a picnic, going with her to check bliss and angel production, etc.

She's content staying home and giving you her sole attention but if getting you out of the house and doing something else helps she's happy to do that!

She has a million nicknames for you as it is but she'll pull out all the complimentary and gender affirming ones, as well as giving you a thousand more kisses than usual.

If you feel comfortable sharing any of your insecurities that come with your dysphoria she'll do her best to remedy what causes them as much as possible (the ones she's able to anyway).

She'll convince John buying you binders/packers will help with project productivity and sneakily get you anything else you need.

She has one old oversized hoodie she used to wear a lot and she will give it to you if you want it, it smells like gingerbread and weed but it's cosy!

On that note she still makes great weed brownies and it's an alternative to bliss she will also offer to make lol.

Above all else she will listen if you need to vent and hold you if you need to get any frustration tears out, she understands it can get overwhelming and she makes sure she's there for you as long as you need.

I also hc Faith may be a teeny bit nonbinary perhaps so she'd have a better grasp on it than the boys do and wouldn't need as much explanation on it from the get go.

Faith swings your intertwined hands between you as you walk, humming a happy tune as you both make your way up the grassy hill. You try to match her energy, smiling whenever she looks over at you, but she can tell your hearts not really in it. It's hard to shake the discomfort stiffening all your joints, making every movement robotic and difficult. You were layered up, more than necessary for the current weather, Faith's old ratty hoodie peeking out underneath your jacket. 

In your free hand is a small picnic basket, where Faith got it from you didn't know and you didn't bother asking. You'd had fun preparing snacks for you both to bring on this impromptu picnic, admittedly you'd been ready to lay in bed and be a formless slug all day but the fresh air was nice. And as you reach the top of the hill you note the view of The Henbane River was beautiful too, definitely worth the small trek here.

Faith lets go of your hand, giddily bouncing to your other side to steal the checkered blanket from the basket. You smile as she twirls around, the blanket soaring through the air with the swing of her arms and landing on the grass somewhat neatly. After fixing the corners Faith excitedly pats the red and white fabric, looking up at you with shining eyes. You sit down next to her, almost dropping the basket as she leaps onto you and steals a messy kiss.

You chuckle against her lips, laughing as she peppers a few more kisses to your face before cuddling up to your side and pulling the basket closer.

"Okay one very cute heart shaped brownie for my very cute boyfriend—and one for me!" Faith sings happily, handing you one of the chocolate treats before taking a bite of her own. She hums in delight, resting her head on your shoulder as she savors the sweetness. You take a smaller bite of your own, it was good and the fact you and Faith had made them together made it even more satisfying.

This was a nice distraction, it didn't completely take your mind off of the negative fog clouding your mind but it was better than nothing. You felt better than you had earlier, the outfit change and flurry of compliments from Faith boosting your mood a little bit. You appreciated her taking the time to do this with you, especially ditching work half way through. You knew she hated leaving things unfinished but once she saw you she'd thrown everything down and given you her sole attention. 

"We should've brought whip cream." Faith muses, taking another appreciative bite of her brownie. You chuckle and lean your head against hers, looking out over the hill and shimmering water below.

"There's always next time."

"Mm, oh! Next time we should do it at night, near the waterfall you took me to that one time." Faith suggests, a small sparkle to her eye as she lifts her head to meet your eyes. The thought is cute, it would be kind of romantic. If you ignore all the bugs that come out of the woodwork at night anyway.

"Sure, sounds like fun." You smile, mind drifting to that very waterfall and the mental image of Faith stripping and diving into the cold water. You wouldn't mind seeing that again.

"Good, it's a date loverboy." Faith grins and you roll your eyes gently at the pet name, smiling as Faith giggles and pulls you into another kiss.

Jacob may be the oldest and not be super well versed in the gender area but he doesn't need to be to take care of you when you're feeling dysphoric!

If there's any outward force affecting your dysphoria and he can control it in any way he will eliminate whatever it is, no questions asked.

He'll lend you any of his shirts or jackets if you think that'd help, he's not as ready to ditch work so he'll try to minimise your discomfort until he's done.

He's not big on nicknames aside from a stray one here and there but he'll toss a "c'mere handsome," out and hold an arm out to you if he notices you caging in on yourself.

He'll hold you close and press a kiss to your temple every now and then, he's not a verbally comfort you kinda guy so it's the best he can do.

He might try to give you some small tasks if he thinks that'll distract you but if you don't want to be around any of the other project members he'll ask you to read any letters from his siblings that he procrastinates getting to himself.

Once you're both home and alone he'll either walk you both straight to bed or see if a shower is welcomed (Most of the time the last thing you want is to be naked when dysphoric but having Jacob tenderly run his hands down your body with the sole intent to take care of you could be really healing if you're comfy with that).

When you're in bed he'll hold you to his chest and it'll feel like you're cuddled up to a giant teddy bear, he'll listen if you need to talk it out or just hold you while you stay silent.

I hc 'I love you' is a tough thing for Jacob to say so depending on how bad he can tell it is this time around he'll mumble, "You're my boy," or "I got you," into your hair as he rubs comforting circles into your back.

You might have to be more direct with Jacob if you need anything specific from him, like specific reassurances or anything like that he'll need a lil nudge.

When he does give verbal reassurance though you can be sure he means every word he says, he doesn't repeat himself so it's very firm quick reassurances followed by prolonged physical contact.

Cuddling with judges may not help with your dysphoria but it may cheer you up and he has three that he keeps at the centre and they'd all love you so. Yanno.

(He'd also be happy to let you steal some of his boxers, he basically doesn't mind sharing everything with you. He definitely won't say no to seeing you in his camo boxers.)

You watched Jacob's sturdy back with a wavering gaze, your fingers digging into your biceps as you sat on the bed tucked away in the corner of his office. You'd come in a few minutes prior, not giving Jacob more than a kiss to his scarred cheek before bee-lining for the bed. You'd wanted to fall into his arms and be held like nothing else but you also didn't want to get in the way of his work. You know he didn't like being distracted, even though he reminded you gruffly once you were always a welcomed one.

You shift your gaze to your shoes, hiding half of your face behind your knees. You were upset, the sudden wave of discomfort and the constant itch under your skin coming out of nowhere and sending you into a small spiral. Luckily Jacob's chosen had been none the wiser and you'd been able to slip away without much hassle. You really wanted to go home and hide under a thousand layers of blankets but you also didn't really want to be alone. 

"I'm almost done here, you good to leave soon?" 

At the sound of Jacob's voice you lift your head, he was still facing away, looking down at some blueprints and shuffling through paperwork.

"Yeah, ready when you are." You reply, trying not to sound too eager as you rest your chin on your jeans. Jacob glances back at you, as if hearing something in your tone you hadn't yourself noticed and you feel bear under his gaze. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made you feel seen. His blue eyes were always so calculated, like he was breaking down battle plans every second. But right now they were soft, gentle.

"C'mere," He makes a small motion with his head, beckoning you over with an outstretched arm. You feel almost embarrassed that he clocked you so quickly, but also so thankful that he did. You slide off the bed and walk over to him, ducking under his arm and wrapping your arms around his waist. Jacob holds you to his chest and presses a kiss to your hair as you lay your head against his collar bone. 

Being in his arms helps, you feel some of the tension leave your shoulders and you melt against him, closing your eyes and listening to the steady thrum of his heart. You can hear Jacob shuffling through the paperwork again, the hand on your shoulder rubbing mindless circles that soothe you. He doesn't say anything else, just holds you close while finishing up his work. You don't mind, you didn't want to have to explain your sudden mood shift right now anyway. 

Not that you'd need to, this had happened enough times Jacob could figure it out on his own. You appreciated the silent understanding, it was refreshing like most things in your relationship. Jacob lightly squeezes your shoulder when it's time to go and you reluctantly let him go, his arm slips off your shoulders but his hand stops to catch your chin.

"Anyone I gotta take care of before we go?" The question is simple, the meaning clear and you can't help but smile at his usual protectiveness shining through his tough exterior. He really was sweet on you.

"Nah, just my head." You assure him, grabbing his wrist gently and tracing the scarred skin gently. He holds your gaze for a second before leaning forward to press a firm kiss to your lips. It's greatly appreciated and you melt into him, resting your hands on his chest. You lean forward as he leans back, chasing his lips and pouting as he steps out of your reach. 

"Hold that thought." He smirks and you roll your eyes, walking to the doors of his office to wait for him. You would, and you expected him to pick it up when you got home.

King of body worship and praise coming through, he will be the one to notice you're not feeling great the fastest.

If you shy away from his touch or your body language is more closed than usual he'll take you somewhere private before asking you what's wrong and what he can do to help.

He has a better time wrapping his head around dysphoria than Jacob but he obviously can't understand the intricacies of it fully. He tries his best and always treats the subject with utmost respect.

I figure after a while he'll have a plan for how to go about your dysphoria, firstly getting you away from any crowds and into more comfortable clothes.

He sees you as his number one priority besides the project so if he takes a day off to dot on you no harm is done, everyone understands you come first to him.

On that note everyone in the project is very respectful of you as well, being Joseph's partner makes you like The Father 2 so they hold you on a similar pedestal.

Joseph will spend the entire day bathing you in love, affection, reassurance and comfort. He barely ever leaves your side and if he does it's to get you something or allow you to do whatever you need to do.

He'll cradle your face in his hands and gaze at you with the most loving look on his face, muttering about how lucky he is that god gifted you to him and that he has the privilege to be the one to comfort you in these moments.

Unlike Faith he doesn't have to be sneaky about asking John to buy you any binders/packers, you're family and he expects everyone to value your comfort as much as his or their own.

I hc he has a phobia of hospitals now due to his past and he'll be wary of surgery but he'll fully support you if that's in your future plans, because he might be scared but you being able to take that step to be happier in your body is more important.

Also if you'll allow him he'll appreciate/worship every inch of you from head to toe, with his tender caresses, soft kisses, gentle words murmured against your skin; anything to let you know your body is worthy of all that love and appreciation.

He's probably the best for verbal comfort, he somehow knows just the right things to say and always reminds you your body and soul are so precious and he'll be with you until they align how you need them too and long after that as well. He is on this journey with you!

And of course any of your insecurities are going to be met with reassurances and any comfort he can provide, if you cry he'll wipe away your tears and hold you as close to him as humanly possible.

He hates seeing you in any kind of pain so he'll try his best to keep your mind off of it and your mood relatively level if he can.

As soon as you step through the door Joseph pulls you into a tight hug, all the tension and frustration bubbles over and you let your tears fall freely against his shirt. You cling to the white fabric and he shushes you gently, cooing a string of comforting words into your hair as he rubs small circles into your back and rocks you both gently. The day had started off so great, you'd helped Joseph prepare for his morning sermon and sat off to the side with Faith during it. Watching your boyfriend give his passionate speech with nothing but love flowing through you.

Then as you were seeing people off you caught sight of yourself in a car window and felt your mood drop instantly. The button up you chose to wear was a bit more form fitting than you'd realised in your rush out the door and even if it was barely noticeable you noticed. You felt yourself shrivel in on yourself and had stayed hidden away behind Joseph for the rest of the goodbyes.

Joseph had noticed immediately your change in posture and attitude, using his frame as a shield as you offered more timid smiles to the project members who addressed you. He finished up as quickly as he could, asking John to take care of everything else as he walked you to his car.

Now here you were, clinging to him as you sobbed into his shoulder. You didn't know why it had affected you so much but it had and you wanted to crawl back into bed and hide away. You feel one of Joseph's hands lift up to cradle the back of your neck, lips pressing against your forehead as he continues to sway you gently.

"You're alright my sweet boy, i'm right here," Josephs coos gently, the words melting into your skin comfortingly. You try to take deep breaths, focusing on his words and his soothing voice other than the thoughts swirling in your head. Slowly you calm down enough to stop crying, when lift your head you feel a tad guilty over the wet patch on Joseph's shirt. He's completely unbothered by it though, more concerned about wiping the tears off of your cheeks and cradling your face in his hands.

"I'm sorry." you croak out weakly, Joseph quickly shaking his head and resting his forehead against yours.

"You have nothing to apologise for my dear, i'm here if you want to talk about it. We can wash your face and get dressed into something more comfortable first if you'd like?" He suggests and you nod feebly, holding onto his forearms for stability. The crying left you feeling exhausted and you let Joseph guide you to the bathroom, appreciating that he kept a soothing hand on your back as you avoided looking at the mirror and washed your face.

When you get to the bedroom Joseph heads to the dresser and pulls out the baggy clothes you always default too on bad days. Despite the mood drop you feel your heart swell as he dutifully arranges them on the bed for you, his blue eyes full of nothing but care as they focus on you once again. He steps back over to you and you fall into his arms, tucking your head under his chin and closing your eyes. You were thankful you'd found Joseph, in these small moments more than ever.

[hk90sstuff]

Cute Cat Art for Cat Lovers | T-Shirts, Hoodies, Mugs, and More by harmzk90

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[wood-factory-furniture]

How to Style a Wooden Console Table: 10 Thoughts for Your Entryway

A Wooden Console Table is a flexible household item that can add both usefulness and style to your home. Frequently positioned in the entryway, it fills in as a spot to drop keys, mail, or packs while likewise going about as an embellishing point of convergence. The following are 10 plans to assist you with styling your wooden console table and make an inviting entry:

1. Moderate Stylish

Keep it basic: Choose a perfect, moderate look by putting a couple of painstakingly picked things on the table.

Utilize regular components: Consolidate normal materials like wood, stone, or vegetation to make a quieting environment.

Add a bit of variety: Present a pop of variety with a little jar of blossoms or an enhancing bowl.

2. Natural Appeal

Embrace regular surfaces: Match your wooden console table with other rural components like woven bushels, burlap, or horns.

Add a one of a kind touch: Integrate collectible or rare things, like an outlined photo or a little clock.

Utilize warm lighting: Introduce a pendant light or wall sconces over the table to make a comfortable feeling.

3. Alluring Sparkle

Add a bit of extravagance: Consolidate metallic accents, like gold or silver, with beautiful items or a mirror.

Utilize sensational lighting: Introduce a crystal fixture or an assertion light installation over the table.

Add a hint of extravagance: Spot a velvet sprinter or a rich toss cover on the table.

4. Beach front Stylish

Integrate nautical components: Use shells, starfish, or nautical-themed stylistic layout.

Utilize a light variety range: Decide on delicate blues, whites, and sandy tones.

Add a hint of surface: Consolidate jute floor coverings or woven crates.

5. Modern Edge

Join wood and metal: Match your wooden console table with metal accents, like a metal light or a created iron crate.

Utilize unrefined components: Consolidate incomplete wood or uncovered block for a tough look.

Add a hint of vegetation: Spot a huge pruned plant or a balancing grower on the table.

6. Conventional Class

Utilize exemplary style: Consolidate customary components like porcelain jars, precious stone dishes, or outlined family representations.

Add a bit of variety: Utilize quieted tones like naval force, burgundy, or olive green.

Utilize an assertion piece: Spot a huge improving item, like a model or a jar, as the focal point.

7. Varied Blend

Consolidate various styles: Blend and match different styles and surfaces for an exceptional look.

Utilize various tones: Integrate a brilliant range of things.

Add individual contacts: Show things that mirror your character and interests.

8. Display Wall

Make a point of convergence: Hang a display wall over the console table.

Blend and match outlines: Utilize various edges and sizes to make an outwardly intriguing showcase.

Add individual contacts: Incorporate outlined photos, craftsmanship, or uplifting statements.

9. Capacity Arrangement

Expand space: Use containers, plate, or drawers to coordinate and store things on the table.

Keep it utilitarian: Pick things that are both enhancing and commonsense.

Add a hint of character: Redo stockpiling arrangements with marks or brightening extras.

10. Occasional Stylistic theme

Change with the seasons: Update the table's stylistic layout to mirror the momentum season.

Utilize occasional tones: Integrate varieties and examples that are related with the season.

Add occasional components: Spot occasional adornments, for example, pumpkins in the fall or pine cones in the colder time of year.

Keep in mind, the way to styling a wooden console table is to have a great time and trial with various looks. Don't hesitate for even a moment to attempt new things and customize the space to mirror your exceptional style.

Extra Tips

Think about the size of your entryway: Pick a console table that is the right size for your space.

Focus on the subtleties: Add final details like toss cushions, candles, or books to finish the look.

Make sure to revise: Move things around until you find a design that you love.

Have a great time! Styling your console table ought to be an agreeable encounter.

By following these tips, you can make a wonderful and useful entryway that invites you home consistently.

[mekyrdesign]

Transform your living space with a stunning Poppies Cushion Cover! Perfect for adding a splash of color to your home decor, this beautiful design brings warmth and charm into any room. Ideal for those cozy evenings or to brighten up a lounging area, it’s a must-have accessory for your sofa or armchair. Embrace elegance and comfort with a touch of nature! #HomeDecor #PoppiesCushionCover #InteriorDesign #CozyLiving #FlowerDecor

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Maximizing Outdoor Spaces: Creative Uses for Outdoor Curtains

Outdoor curtains are incredibly versatile, and their applications extend far beyond traditional window coverings. By incorporating outdoor curtains into various aspects of your outdoor areas, you can enhance functionality, add privacy, and infuse style. This article explores creative ways to use outdoor curtains to maximize your outdoor spaces, from creating distinct zones to adding aesthetic appeal.

1. Defining Outdoor Rooms

One of the most effective uses of outdoor curtains is to define different “rooms” or zones within a larger outdoor area. This approach helps create a sense of separation and organization, making your outdoor space feel more like a cohesive living area.

Dining and Lounge Areas: Use curtains to separate a dining area from a lounge area on your deck or patio. This not only helps in defining the space but also allows for different uses and moods in each zone.

Play Areas: In family-friendly outdoor spaces, curtains can create a designated play area for children, offering them a semi-enclosed space where they can play safely and comfortably.

By using curtains to define areas, you create functional zones that cater to various activities and needs, enhancing the usability of your outdoor space.

2. Adding Privacy to Open Spaces

Open outdoor spaces can often feel exposed, particularly in urban or densely populated areas. Outdoor curtains provide an easy solution for adding privacy and creating a more intimate environment.

Urban Balconies: For high-rise apartments or urban homes, outdoor curtains can shield your balcony from neighboring buildings and street activity, giving you a private retreat.

Pool Areas: Privacy curtains around a pool area ensure that swimmers and loungers have a secluded space to enjoy without feeling exposed to passersby.

Curtains can be drawn to provide instant privacy or opened to create a more open feel, giving you control over the level of seclusion in your outdoor space.

3. Creating an Outdoor Theater

Transforming your outdoor area into a home theater is a fun and creative way to use outdoor curtains. By using curtains as a backdrop, you can set up a comfortable and immersive outdoor movie-watching experience.

Screen Setup: Hang blackout outdoor curtains to serve as a projection screen. Their light-blocking properties enhance the visibility of the projected image, making for a better viewing experience.

Seating Area: Create a cozy seating area with outdoor cushions, throws, and comfortable furniture. Use curtains to define the space and block out any distracting lights.

This setup is perfect for movie nights, sports events, or watching TV shows with family and friends under the stars.

4. Enhancing Garden Features

Outdoor curtains can add a touch of elegance and functionality to various garden features, enhancing their visual appeal and usability.

Pergolas and Gazebos: Use curtains to add a decorative and functional element to pergolas or gazebos. They provide shade, privacy, and protection from the elements, making these structures more enjoyable.

Garden Entrances: Frame garden entrances or pathways with outdoor curtains to create a welcoming and stylish entryway. This adds a sense of enclosure and charm to your garden.

Curtains can be easily opened or closed, allowing you to adjust the ambiance of your garden space as needed.

5. Creating a Poolside Cabana

Outdoor curtains are ideal for setting up a stylish and functional poolside cabana. This setup provides a shaded and comfortable area where you can relax, change, or store poolside essentials.

Shade and Privacy: Install curtains around the cabana to provide shade and privacy. They protect against sun exposure and offer a private space for changing or relaxing.

Decorative Touches: Choose curtains with vibrant colors or patterns that complement your pool area’s design. Add some outdoor furniture and decorative accents to complete the look.

A well-designed cabana enhances the functionality of your pool area, making it a perfect spot for relaxation and enjoyment.

6. Weatherproofing Outdoor Areas

In addition to adding style and privacy, outdoor curtains can be used to weatherproof your outdoor spaces. This ensures that your area remains functional and comfortable despite varying weather conditions.

Wind Protection: Use wind-resistant outdoor curtains to shield your outdoor space from strong breezes. This helps maintain comfort and prevents the curtains from flapping uncontrollably.

Rain Protection: Install waterproof curtains to protect outdoor furniture and flooring from rain. This helps keep your space dry and extends the life of your outdoor décor.

By incorporating weatherproof features into your outdoor curtains, you enhance the durability and usability of your outdoor areas.

Conclusion

Outdoor curtains are a versatile and creative addition to any outdoor space. By using them to define zones, add privacy, create outdoor theaters, enhance garden features, set up poolside cabanas, and weatherproof areas, you can maximize the functionality and appeal of your outdoor environment. With endless design possibilities and practical applications, outdoor curtains help transform your outdoor space into a stylish and comfortable retreat.

[aestheticinteriorsanddecor]

White Cushion Covers with Fringe Edge

Elevate your home decor with the Madizz Cream White Corduroy Cushion Covers. Measuring 24x24 inches (60x60 cm) and sold as a set of 2, these soft, boho-chic pillow covers feature a stylish fringe edge and textured stripe design. Perfect for adding a touch of elegance and comfort to your sofa or bedroom, these decorative throw pillow covers effortlessly blend with various interior styles, creating a cozy and sophisticated atmosphere. Transform your space with these versatile and eye-catching pillow shells.

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Our gorgeous dark blue saree festive cushion covers are bright, cheery and just right for the festive season. The cushion covers feature an envelope closure and are finished with a gold lace detail.