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mashtatosworld · 17 days ago

Text

calm in the chaos

summary: you give birth to your first baby

You should have known when Jiyong walked into the room with a beret perched on his head and a set of fine paintbrushes in the other, that today was not going to go as planned.

You had thought you were going to start painting the nursery.

You had been excited, even, having selected a range of pink shades together weeks ago. You’d imagined the two of you working side by side, getting messy with paint, making this space a home for your little girl.

But instead, you found yourself sitting on the nursery floor, your maternity dress rolled up over your stomach, as your husband carefully dragged a paintbrush across your swollen belly.

You sighed, watching him dip the brush into a soft pastel colour before sweeping it over your skin. "Ji, why are we doing this again?"

He didn’t even look up, his lips pursed in deep concentration. “She gives me inspiration.”

You arched a brow. "She?"

“Our baby,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I’m waiting for her to tell me how she wants the room painted."

You blinked. "You don’t know what colour you want the nursery to be?"

He had a vision board, a Pinterest board and even hired interior designers to help plan the nursery. But in the end, the two of you went to the store and picked out your favourite swatches of pregnancy safe paint - of which he was now painting on your stomach.

“I thought I did," he admitted, sticking a tiny flower to your belly, right where he had just painted. "But then I realised, I should wait for her input."

You stared at him, bewildered. "She’s going to decide?"

He nodded sagely. "Of course."

You sighed again, shaking your head. "And how exactly is she going to do that?"

At that exact moment, a small but firm kick pressed against your stomach, right where he had been painting.

Jiyong grinned, eyes wide with excitement. "Ahhh, see? She’s choosing!"

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Or maybe she’s just done with you poking her all the time.”

He ignored your teasing, his expression turning softer, more thoughtful. He ran a hand gently over your stomach, his wedding ring cold against your skin as it grazed the painted surface.

"I feel so connected to her already," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your belly. "I think she’s going to share my artistic vision but have your beauty." His eyes flicked up to you, filled with so much love it made your breath catch. "She’s so lucky."

Your heart melted, and you reached out to touch him, feeling closer than ever. "We’re the lucky ones, Ji."

He smiled, rubbing a hand over your belly again before picking up another flower petal and sticking it carefully to your skin.

After a few more strokes of paint and some deep, artistic pondering on Jiyong’s end, you finally asked, "So… now that she’s chosen the colour, can we start painting the nursery?"

Jiyong froze, slowly pursing his lips. His expression instantly shifted from serene to guilty.

You narrowed your eyes. "Jiyong."

He cleared his throat. "Well… we could… but, you know, it's a lot of labour, and - "

"Ji."

"And you're pregnant, and I just - ”

"Ji."

"I don’t want you moving around too much!" he finally blurted, eyes pleading. "It’s not safe!"

You stared at him, incredulous. "That’s why you’ve been delaying? Because you don’t want me painting?"

He nodded quickly. “I mean, you are involved! You’re growing our princess!”

You threw your hands in the air. "Jiyong, come on. I want to help. I’m not going to break!"

He hesitated, clearly torn between his need to protect you and his desire to make you happy. After a long pause, he finally sighed in defeat.

“Fine.”

"Thank you."

"But only sticking flowers to the wall," he warned. "No climbing ladders. No stretching. No actual painting. Just decorating."

You rolled your eyes but took what you could get. "Deal."

He'd been like that your whole pregnancy.

You weren’t allowed to carry anything. Not a grocery bag, not the laundry, not even your own shoes if he was feeling particularly protective. The man had damn near wrestled a glass out of your hand once, insisting it was too full and too heavy - until you nearly bit his head off.

After that, he reluctantly allowed you to lift a drink or your phone. But everything else?

Off limits.

��♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

An hour later, the nursery was transformed.

The walls were coated in the perfect shade of soft pink, the door dotted with tiny, delicate flowers. Jiyong had even painted a subtle mural on one wall - gentle brushstrokes forming a dreamy, almost ethereal heart. It was beautiful.

You both stood in the centre of the room, looking around in awe.

It suddenly felt real.

This wasn’t just a room anymore. This was your baby’s room. The space where you would rock her to sleep, where she would wake up every morning, where she would play and grow.

Jiyong took your hand in his, his grip warm and steady. He gave you a small, almost disbelieving smile. “This is really happening, huh?”

You squeezed his fingers. “Yeah.”

Briefly, you were pulled back to when you first met him. At the time, you'd been too afraid to even look him in the eyes. And yet now you would touch your stomach and wonder if your baby would have those same, curious eyes...

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close.

You closed your eyes, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

The three of you - already a family.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You should have known.

You should have known when Jiyong didn’t touch a single drop of alcohol all night - not even during Youngbae’s toast.

You should have known when he stayed practically glued to your side all night, his hand permanently resting on your belly like some kind of monitor.

And you should have known when he kept looking at you with that knowing little smirk every time you shifted uncomfortably.

But you?

You were in denial.

Sure, there had been some cramping earlier that day, but that was normal at nine months pregnant. It was not the start of labour.

No way. Not tonight, of all nights. Not when you were supposed to be enjoying Youngbae’s big concert, surrounded by your closest friends.

So, you pushed through.

You swayed lightly in the VIP section, singing along with Hyorin. And you breathed through the discomfort when Jiyong leaned in, murmuring sweet nothings against your temple.

And then the concert ended.

You were all backstage, congratulating Youngbae, when a sharp pain rippled through your stomach. Your hand immediately shot out, grabbing the nearest thing - which happened to be Jiyong’s forearm.

You squeezed, fingers digging in.

Jiyong didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he sighed, tilting his head with that same knowing smirk. "Right, jagi - your contractions are within five minutes. It’s time to go to meet our baby."

Silence.

Then -

“WAIT, WHAT?!”

Every single person in the room turned to stare.

Youngbae, still towelling off his sweat, froze. Hyorin’s jaw dropped. Daesung, mid-sip of water, choked violently.

"Is this really happening?!"

"How could I have not noticed?"

"I'm going to be an uncle again?"

Jiyong rolled his eyes. "Yes, ok, she's in labour. Time to go. Let’s move."

"Yah!" Hyorin smacked your arm. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You can't smack a pregnant person!" Daesung jumped in, standing in front of you like a personal bodyguard.

You tried to protest, but another contraction hit, and all that came out was a pained groan.

"What are we waiting for!" Youngbae ushered, grabbing his wife as Daesung threw on his jacket.

"This isn't an afterparty." You muttered, shuffling out of the room with Jiyong at your side as the others followed closely behind.

"We were there when you met, we'll be there for this too."

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The car ride was complete chaos.

You were wedged in the back between Hyorin and Daesung, who were gripping your hands like they was the ones about to give birth.

Youngbae was in the passenger seat, throwing out directions that he believed was the fastest way to the hospital.

"Take a left here! Hyung! Hyung! You missed the turning," He instructed Jiyong, his maps up on his phone. "Go right here! No! Jiyong!"

Your husband ignored his frantic shouting as he continued straight ahead. "I know the way." He'd been studying every route to the hospital since you entered your third trimester.

Daesung, squished in the back, was losing his mind. “Drive faster! Why are we not driving faster?! This is an emergency! Run the light!”

Jiyong stayed silent.

Completely calm. Not panicked. Not frantic. Not hovering.

He just gripped the wheel, eyes steady, jaw set. Cool. Collected.

Which only made it worse because nobody expected this.

“Why is he so quiet?!” Daesung hissed from the back.

"Maybe he's in shock!" Hyorin whispered back. "Youngbae fainted when I had our son."

"Hey... I was tired and simply closed my eyes," Youngbae muttered in return. He then looked to his bandmate with wide eyes. "You're not going to faint right? Tell me and I'll grab the wheel."

Jiyong rolled his eyes. “I’m perfectly fine.”

"That makes it weirder, Jiyong!” Daesung exclaimed.

You let out a strangled groan as another contraction hit, gripping Hyorin’s fingers like a vice.

Jiyong found your eyes in the mirror. His voice was calm when he spoke.

"Breathe, jagi," he murmured. "We’re almost there."

Everyone else was in full-blown meltdown mode, and yet he was here, anchored, pulling you back down to earth.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

By the time you got to the hospital, Jiyong immediately sprang into action.

The moment the car stopped, he was out, grabbing the hospital bag from the trunk - which he had secretly packed without your knowledge.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group spilled out of the car like a panicked clown parade.

"Move, move, move!” Youngbae yelled like it was a military drill.

Jiyong opened the door for you, helping you out carefully, and wrapped an arm around your waist as he guided you inside. The others trailed behind, all talking at once -

"We’re here for the birth!”

"She’s having the baby right now!”

"We need a wheelchair!"

"I can still walk Daesung.” You declined even when he nearly tripped you up, trailing closely behind at your heels.

Jiyong ignored all of them. He was only focused on you.

Hyorin was on the phone with your mother, giving her updates in hushed tones. Youngbae was already calling Jiyong’s mom. Daesung, pulled out his own phone, not one to be left out.

"I'm calling Seunghyun," He muttered.

Another contraction hit. You clenched your jaw, voice shaking. "Ji... I’m scared."

And just like that, his entire demeanour softened.

He turned to you, his hands framing your face as he rested his forehead against yours.

"I know, baby," he whispered. "But you’re going to be okay. I’m right here."

And somehow, that was enough.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The moment you were wheeled into the delivery room, the chaos of your friends faded.

It was just you and Jiyong now.

He never let go of your hand.

Not once.

Through every contraction, every moment of pain, he was there. Whispering reassurances. Kissing your knuckles. Smoothing your hair.

"You’re doing so well, jagi."

"Just a little more, my baby."

"I’m right here."

And when your daughter finally entered the world - when her tiny cries filled the room - Jiyong let out the softest, most broken breath.

The doctor placed her in your arms, and Jiyong just stared.

He looked at you, his eyes wet, his lips trembling. "She's here," he whispered. "You did it."

You nodded weakly, exhausted beyond words.

And Jiyong - your calm in the chaos - just broke.

Tears streamed down his face as he cupped your daughter’s tiny head, his hands shaking. "She's perfect," he whispered.

You smiled sleepily, watching the love in his eyes as he gazed at your little girl - the masterpiece he had been waiting for.

The one he'd been waiting for his whole life.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

a throwback to the birth of baby diva! i thought i should post this before Angel arrives - which is not long now!

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @maskedcrawford , @breakmeoff , @emmiesoverthemoon , @rafesbunniebby , @ricecake9999 , @fleabagspurplewife

#bigbang #kpop #mashtatosworld #gdragon #kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #gdad

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miyaz6ki · 6 months ago

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how about alhaitham fucking you on the couch, telling you to hush up in case kaveh comes home?

he asked you to come over to help decide on final designs for a few of his upcoming projects. but suddenly, the honest urge to have just taken you right then and there on the couch-

you didn't have to wear a skirt that short . . shit did you really wanna tease him like this? nasty girl.

he threw his head back as he worked himself inside your hole, erection only worsening, pants getting tighter and you were laid out in front of him on the couch.

"such a dirty slut. you didn't even wear panties? are you asking me to punish you? you could've just said so, brat." his digits scissored your hole, stretching your drooling cunt nice and wide before you take his dick.

he lands a rough kiss to your lips, crashing his own—chapped and hungry for your taste. the sound of his belt unbuckling never was unfamiliar, only turning you on more as you watched his phallus rise, taking a gulp nervously as you could already feel his tip teasing your entrance.

it's been almost 2 hours, and he kept going at it, your sticky hole felt warm, all the same. each time only adding more substance inside when you arch you back so your lover can hit that spot you just love so much so good.

"hnngh . . ! 'haitham annhh- fffuck I love y'r dick- nnhh-!" your loud whines he could only degrade for now, for wanting him to bend you over and fuck you over a dining table in public? of course he had to teach you first you couldn't have everything you want.

all of a sudden before the final brick of pleasure was about to be placed, alhaitham suddenly pulls out. "wha- haithammmm! please?" the tone of your voice made him and his cock eager to thrust inside you and make you all pretty n' sticky.. but he had to resist such a sight.

"been suuuch a damn good-looking brat today, you can't have it I'm afraid. what if someone else had seen this instead of me.. would you have wanted that, baby?" his tone filled with a pinch of sass, and the rest of his personality.

but who wouldn't be just a little.. possessive of you when you look so easy to just devour everything from your ears till your toes.

he shushed your cries, and pleads to make him cum inside. you know that he can't do that just yet, not until your wedding day. hmm, he definitely had to propose soon.

fat tears slowly start to run down your cheeks as alhaitham leaned in close, the previous mating press-like position you were put it now had one of your legs over his shoulder.

he started to kiss your tears away, he hated to see you cry, shit don't pull this trump card right now..

he starts to match his pace as to how a chef would cook their meals. fast, and efficient. he made no second wasted, performing small, hushed and hurried thrusts into you. a finger over your mouth to keep you down. he could hear a key jingle at the door of the home—it was his roommate kaveh.

but fuck was he so close to cumming too. he could see it through your velvety tongue that lolled out each time he grinded his angry, red tip against you g-spot.

before he knew it, he already pulled out to release, getting a few drops of his cum on your chest, over to your face. and damn would he be glad to lick it all off your body—but the door opens.

"i'm ho- OH WHAT THE FUCK—" the blond drops his things on the floor, mehrak quickly swiping them up onto its head as kaveh stands in shock.

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alpinesmommy · 1 year ago

Text

we don't gotta be in love (bucky barnes)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, dubcon (reader is a bartering chip), arranged marriage, blood, implied age difference, virginity loss, wedding night, rough sex, Bucky is an animal, reader is Tony Stark’s daughter, alludes to Bucky beings powerful man of ambiguous design, alternate universe, breeding kink, big dick kink, Bucky is in love with her but she hates him, it’s not a fairy tale, it’s primal and it’s kind of messy.

Author’s note: this is just….pure filth, send me to jail, don’t tell my therapist.

continuation is right here

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

—

You, sweet, angelic, siren-like you. All wrapped up in a delicate lacy bra, a white ribbon in your hair, and your legs spread wide enough for Bucky to slot in between them.

Your glistening pussy was on full-display, tight and pink and soaked. Virginal and leaking slick as you lay there. You’re nervous, though you keep a brave face on as you present.

Your fiery eyes look up to meet his. You’re nervous and you’re scared. He's so big. His thick shaft dwarfs your folds as he rubs it along your seam.

You squirm, not sure what else to do. "Bucky…It's too big, it's not going to fit…" You whine at your new husband softly.

Bucky's gaze lingers on your delicate form, taking in the sight of his precious little Omega before him. He teases the tip of his thick member along your slick folds again and again, reveling in the way you quiver at the contact.

Your innocence and vulnerability only serve to stoke the primal desire within him. His intense blue eyes darken with hunger, your sweet scent of arousal enveloping him.

His large hand grips your chin firmly, tilting your head up to meet his gaze with eyes filled with determination.

"Shh, princess. Trust me," he growls softly, his voice a gravelly reassurance as his other hand snakes between your thighs, spreading your lips further to accommodate his size.

"You can take it, baby girl. You were made for me," he murmurs, the authoritative tone in his voice leaving no room for argument as he lines himself up with your entrance.

With a swift thrust, he enters you, the stretch causing you to gasp and tense against him. Bucky's restraint slips slightly at the sensation of your tight warmth surrounding him, but he reigns himself in, not wanting to overwhelm you. He holds still, allowing you to adjust to his size, his own need for you almost unbearable.

"See, you can take it," He reassures you, his hand moving up to cup your cheek tenderly as he begins to move, setting a steady pace that promises to fill you completely. He watches your reactions closely, his own control a thin veneer over his desire to claim you completely.

And just like that, Bucky made you his.

You should be afraid of this Alpha, this beast of a man who claims your virginity like he's entitled to it.

You want to hate him.

But how can you?

Your whole world is zoned in completely to where he's breaching you. He's so thick, his length seems to never end, and your back arches as you’re forced to take all of him.

It's like you can feel him in your stomach. You let out a high pitched whimper, and your thighs tighten around his waist.

As your eyes screw shut and you grip on his bicep for purchase.

Your virgin blood coats Bucky's cock, and it stains the white veil you still had on as he begins to fuck into you with a steady pace.

"I—…Bucky, I can't breathe…." You gasp, so genuine, soft and whimpery.

With your desperate plea for air, your voice tinged with a mix of fear and desire, Bucky's eyes bore into you, a glint of possessiveness shining through.

"You belong to me now, little wife," He growled, his voice husky and commanding, a mix of roughness and control.

Feeling your innocence and resistance only fueled Bucky's primal desires. He relished in the challenge, the conquest of your body like a prize waiting to be won.

As Bucky's relentless thrusting claimed you, your gasps, so pure and vulnerable, only served to fuel his aggression.

Bucky's grip tightened, his strength overpowering as he took what he wanted, his hips moving with a fierce determination. The room was consumed by the intoxicating scent of your arousal, mixing and mingling as your bodies became one.

Your eyes are screwed shut as you’re forced to take all of it again and again, the feeling of being so full is an adjustment, you hated how quickly you were coming to relish in it.

His arms come up to hook beneath the crease of your thighs and he begins to fold your body into a more submissive position. Your body curls and your eyes fly open, your glassy gaze meeting stormy blue as you can't help but let out a whiney moan from the sensation. The sight of you, vulnerable and yielding, stirs something within him, a hellish urge to devour, claim, push you to your limits as he delves deeper inside your velvety warmth.

You’re quick to realize whether you like it or not; you belong to him, for better or for worse. You go from a Stark girl to a Barnes wife. Tony Stark gave you to this beast of a man. And he takes it. Bucky takes all you have and consumes you.

Like an animal fucking for purpose rather than pleasure.

Your hand flies to the creaking mattress as you grip the sheets, your breasts bounce with each thrust and you begin to let out harsh pants that match each thrust in.

"Bucky…" You whine through gritted teeth as the pain begins to subside and the friction from the drag of his cock inside begins to feel good.

Bucky growls low in his throat as he moves within your eager, wet heat. The sound of your mingled pleasure filling the dimly lit room. His powerful thrusts are relentless. The scent of your arousal, sweet and heady, fills the space around you, driving Bucky wild with desire.

You want to hate this man. You want to hate him with all that you are because you were forced to marry him, to be his wife.

But the way he fucks into you has you confused, your brain more focused on how this Alpha takes your body so well, so dominantly and rough that it makes your pussy throb and your heart swell. It’s so ridiculous, so fucked up in your mind you can’t seem to bridge the gap.

With one particular thrust, Bucky's tip kisses your cervix, and you let out an involuntary scream from the sensation. Your manicured nails dig into the sheets, nearly shredding them as he picks up the intensity and drills harder into you.

You take it, you moan and you whine and you whimper and your tight warmth sucks his cock in, hungry for it now that you have it.

You’re overwhelmed from all the sensations, the way he's biting and sucking and licking your flesh, the way his pubic bone grinds against your clit and the way his cock stuffs you so perfectly that he rubs against your g-spot and cervix every time.

Tears begin to form in your eyes, a sign of your increased pleasure as your mouth falls open, Bucky forcing moans from your lips with each thrust in.

You know the purpose of this, you know what his instincts are telling him to do.

Reproduce. Claim. Mate.

"You're…trying….to get me pregnant…." You gasp out in realization as Bucky's hips slam into yours. You mewl, your body blossoming for him as he continues to drill into your tight wet heat.

Feeling you tighten around him, reacting to his every thrust, sent a dark thrill through him. It was as if something wild and feral prowled just beneath the surface of his skin, urging him to give in to his most basic alpha instincts.

He didn't speak, but his actions painted his intentions vividly.

You should fight, you should kick and punch and try to get this man off of you because you do not want his babies.

But your primal, baser brain won't allow you.

Because it's thriving off the Alpha presence, the possibility of pleasing your mate is more important.

The knot at the base of his cock began to swell, a signal of his impending release. As Bucky pushes his knot inside, your whole body tenses, and you begin to tremble as your pussy clenches impossibly tight around him. With a guttural growl, Bucky's body tensed, his hips stilling as he spilled his essence deep inside of you, each pulse of his release a sick twisted mark of ownership. You could feel the warmth spreading within you.

You let out a muted scream, and suddenly you’re shattering all over his cock.

Slick pools as you reach your climax, your walls constricting rhythmically around him as you grind your hips down — and involuntary action of pleasure as you ride it out. You can feel Bucky twitching inside of you, the swell of his knot keeping you locked together to ensure that they are in optimal condition to conceive, his need to give you a baby overriding any other thought in his mind.

You pant, your body is sweaty and weak as you finally begin to come down to earth.

You look at your Alpha, glowing eyes in the dark of night as you try to read him.

"Are you all calm now?" You ask, in a bratty tone.

Looking down at you, Bucky observed you with a mixture of possessiveness and satisfaction. He likes the challenge in your gaze.

Despite your bratty demeanor, Bucky found himself oddly pleased by your feistiness, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, my little wife, all calm now," Bucky drawled, his gravelly voice tinged with satisfaction.

#smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #a/b/o dynamics #bucky barnes smut

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navybrat817 · 1 year ago

Note

Anything special for Bucky's birthday?

Something small, nonnie.

For Years or for Hours

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is the love of your life and deserves to have a peaceful birthday.

Word Count: Almost 1.2k

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, implied explicit sexual content, being in love, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I wanted to do something more, but today got away from me. ❤️ 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 sun had just risen outside of Bucky’s hut in Wakanda, the rays peeking in and beckoning you to wake up and venture out into the world. You weren't ready to rise and meet the day quite yet. Not when Bucky was beside you, holding you in his sleep like you he’d lose you if he loosened his grip. You wouldn't dare disturb his slumber. Not when he more than anyone deserved to rest peacefully.

So you decided to count the freckles on his nose.

“My beautiful man,” you whispered, placing your left hand on his cheek. “Love of my life.”

The wedding band on your ring finger matched his in design, symbols of the never ending love you had for each other. Time stood still and moved all at once when you said “I do”, but forever didn’t start with your wedding day. It began the day you met. Every moment after that paved a path that entwined, neither of you having to walk alone again.

“One,” you whispered, kissing a freckle on the tip of his nose. You’d never get over the sight of him. “Two…”

You didn’t know Bucky had freckles until he was in your face during a training session, the definition of up close and personal. It was right before you shared your first kiss, which was ages ago and felt like yesterday. He rolled on top of you and pinned your arms above your head, his breathing heavy and eyes stormy as you gazed up at him. Instead of trying to break free of his strong hold, you went lax underneath him and smiled.

“Are you yielding?” He asked, releasing one of your wrists when you made no attempt to move.

“Wow. You have freckles,” you exhaled, brushing his soft brown hair back that fell in his eyes. “I never noticed them before.”

It was as if Bucky removed an invisible mask and allowed you to see his true self for the first time before he pressed his lips to yours. It sparked a flame inside of you that no one could ever put out. And if being in love with him taught you anything, it was that masks hid your true selves and built walls to keep others out. You helped each other knock them down.

He was your partner in every sense of the word.

“Mmm. Tickles,” he mumbled as you kept kissing his nose, his voice throaty and low as he opened his eyes. His broad torso rolled as he arched his back and you had to suppress a shiver when he groaned. “Were you counting my freckles again?”

“You caught me,” you whispered, pecking his nose once more and not embarrassed in the slightest. “I can’t help it. You’re so pretty.”

Amusement filled his eyes as he slid a palm down your ribs to your hip. “I thought you were the pretty one in this relationship, Mrs. Barnes.”

Your cheeks warmed at the reminder that you were his wife. “We can both be pretty, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, tilting your head back so he could brush his scruff against your neck. You joked once that people called him the White Wolf because he liked to “scent” and leave his mark on you. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

“Why should I go back to sleep, hmm?” He asked, placing an open-mouthed kiss over your racing pulse. It was enough to make you whimper when you tried to find your words. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You menace,” you moaned, tugging on his hair for good measure, which only made him let out that lustful groan you loved. “Because it’s your birthday and you deserve to sleep in, old man.”

His first birthday as a married man.

“And we won't say how old I am today,” he said, his hair falling in his eyes as he pulled back and smirked. “And I was kind of hoping I'd wake up with my cock in your mouth.”

“Bucky,” you breathed out, fighting the urge to laugh at his admission as the tingle between your thighs grew. Whatever thought was in your mind went away. It didn't matter. All you could imagine were his eyes staring down at you in wonder and ecstasy as you took him in your throat. “You know what? Fine. Your wish is my command.”

You’d please him with whichever hole he wanted to use.

“But I’m awake,” he teased, chuckling when you silenced him with your lips. He didn't let you pull away, feeling as if the hut tilted on its axis as he deepened the kiss you started. It was like your first kiss all over again. The promise of something more.

A lifetime together.

“Pretend you're asleep,” you suggested when you grudgingly pulled away from his sinful lips. “But if Steve and Sam ask, we woke up to watch the sun rise.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed when you smiled, your heart rate picking up. “Don't talk about those punks when you're about to go down on me,” he half growled.

“Yes, White Wolf,” you teased. They would no doubt message him birthday wishes, along with Natasha and a few others, once they were awake. He deserved all the love today and every day.

Before you could kiss down Bucky's body, he stopped you with a gentle grip. “Wait,” he whispered, his eyes searching your face. You didn't know a gaze could be so soft until he looked upon you. This was a man who knew your hopes, dreams, fears.

And loved you all the while.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked when he reached for your left hand.

“I just love you so much, doll,” he said, running his thumb over the ring as your eyes filled with tears. You blinked them away quickly enough to catch his tender smile. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

When you got home, you’d celebrate his special day in regular fashion. You’d take him to the new science exhibit that he mentioned wanting to see. The two of you would cuddle up to watch his favorite movie after dinner with the gang. He’d eat the cake you baked just for him. And there would be a present or two for him to open before you went to bed.

But the gift he wanted most was to have a day without a reminder of the fight. Where he could breathe in the air, take in the quiet, and feel a sense of peace with the person he loved beside him. You knew the only way to give him that was to get him out of the city and back to his hut. Even if it was only for a short time.

In his sanctuary, he’d find tranquility on his special day and you’d show him how much you loved him. Memories the two of you would carry for a lifetime. Because he gave you the world by asking you to be his and you’d spend forever making him happy. Just like he deserved.

“I love you, too, Bucky Barnes,” you promised, kissing the freckle again on the tip of his nose. “Happy birthday.”

Oh, Bucky. We love him. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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drghostwrite · 4 months ago

Text

This Christmas…

This is a long one so buckle up, it’s also a little late but considering today is Christmas… well I did my best lol.

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x wife!reader

Summary: it’s your first married Christmas together and you have a mischievous plan in the works to brighten your wife’s holiday.

Warnings: smut… Minors DNI!

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The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg lingered in the air as you stood at the stove, a cover of ‘This Christmas’ softly playing in the background. You glanced over at the beautifully decorated Christmas tree standing proudly in the corner of the room. Each ornament reflected tiny sparks of firelight, and the star atop glimmered with enchantments Agatha had whispered into existence.

The soft glow of twinkling lights illuminated the kitchen, casting golden hues across your wedding ring as you stirred the pot of mulled cider.

Its was your first Christmas married to Agatha and it felt like a dream, each small moment filled with warmth and anticipation.

Over the last week, you and Agatha had taken to sneaking little gifts into each other’s stockings early. She had gifted you an antique gold necklace with a small onyx gem that hummed faintly with protective enchantments, and in return, you’d slipped a handwritten poem about the love you shared along with a very expensive cashmere sweater in her signature purple. Yesterday, she had surprised you with a leather-bound spellbook from the 17th century, its pages imbued with whispers of witches long past. And in her stocking today, you’d placed a bottle of her favorite vintage wine with a cheeky note: Save this for dessert, my love.

You heard her before you saw her—the familiar sound of her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Agatha appeared in the doorway, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, lips painted a rich wine-red that matched the sweater. She smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she approached.

“You’re spoiling me, darling,” she murmured, sliding in beside you at the counter. Her hand found yours, fingers curling around your wrist as she pressed a kiss to your temple. Her other hand toyed with your wedding ring that glinted against the kitchen lights, turning it idly as though marveling at the commitment it symbolized.

“Just making sure you’re as spoiled as I feel,” you teased, leaning into her touch.

“You’re too good to me.” she purred as she continued playing with your ring.

The sight of it made her pause, her fingers curling around yours as her thumb traced the smooth, silver band. Your ring was a marquise diamond surrounded by an elegant twist of platinum and deep sapphires that Agatha said reminded her of starlight. In contrast, her own ring was bold: black diamond surrounded by tiny, white diamonds, a design you chose to reflect her darker mystique.

“I still love seeing this on your finger,” she murmured, her voice softer than usual as she raised your hand to her lips.

“Good,” you replied, leaning back into her warmth. “Because it’s staying there.”

Her chuckle vibrated against you as she nuzzled into your hair. “Of course it is, darling.”

You bit your lip, fighting the grin threatening to spread across your face as your plan began to form. “Actually… I just realized we’re missing something important.”

She arched a perfectly sculpted brow, her hand pausing mid-caress. “Missing something? We have wine, presents, cookies, magic-infused cider, and each other. What could possibly be missing?”

“Candy canes,” you said with an exaggerated sigh. “From that little shop downtown, the one with the nice owners that makes them by hand.”

Agatha blinked in disbelief. “Candy canes? It’s Christmas Eve! The stores will be a madhouse, and besides, I can just conjure—”

You shook your head, slipping into your best dramatic pout. “No magic. It won’t taste the same. I need those candy canes to make Christmas perfect.”

She gave you a long, dramatic sigh, “You’re lucky I love you.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider her words. “You’re right, I am. Now, go on. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back, and I can finish up here.”

Agatha grumbled under her breath but pulled you close, her lips brushing yours in a lingering kiss before she finally relented. “Fine. But you owe me for this, and I’m cashing in tonight.” With a wink, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the night.

As soon as the door shut, you sprang into action. The lingerie you’d hidden away for this moment was a deep shade of burgundy, edged with delicate lace that left little to the imagination as it hugged your curves perfectly, paired with sheer stockings and heels, the Santa hat you wore tying the whole outfit together.

You slipped it on quickly, adding a spritz of your favorite perfume before draping yourself under the tree. The glow of the lights danced over your skin, and you arranged yourself with care, legs stretched out, arms resting above your head, the picture of temptation.

Minutes passed, and then you heard the telltale sound of the front door creaking open.

“Darling, the things I do for you…” Agatha’s voice carried through the house as she kicked off her boots.

“I got the damn candy canes, but if one more person bumps into me—” She stopped mid-sentence as her gaze fell on you. Her sharp blue eyes darkened, a slow smirk spreading across her face.

“Why, Mrs. Harkness,” she drawled, tossing the bag of candy canes onto the couch without a second thought. “What do we have here?” A low sultry laughed slipped past her perfectly painted lips.

You grinned, tilting your head to meet her gaze. “Christmas came a little early this year.”

Agatha’s lips curved into a wicked smirk as she stalked toward you. “My, my. You’re the best gift I’ve ever unwrapped.”

You leaned back on your elbows, letting your legs shift just enough to catch her attention. “I figured it was time to unwrap the real present.”

Her eyes trailed your body, “You’ve been a very naughty girl, haven’t you?”

“Maybe,” you teased, “You going to punish me?”

“Punish you?” she echoed, her lips brushing against yours as her fingers found the hem of your lingerie. “Oh, darling… I’m going to make sure you don’t leave this spot until morning.”

You leaned up, capturing her lips in a kiss that made her sigh against you. “Merry Christmas, my love,” you whispered, your voice laced with anticipation.

Agatha’s reply was a low, teasing growl as she trailed kisses down your neck. “Oh, darling, Christmas isn’t over yet. Let’s see how many times we can unwrap this present tonight.”

Agatha’s words sent a shiver down your spine, her sultry tone lighting a fire in your chest. Her hands were firm yet tender as they slid over the lace framing your body, her fingers expertly tracing every curve with maddening precision. She paused, her lips hovering over the hollow of your throat as she chuckled softly.

“And to think you pretended to need candy canes of all things…”

You tilted your head, pretending to look thoughtful. “Well, I did need those candy canes for the perfect Christmas…”

“Forget the candy canes,” she interrupted, her voice a low growl, “The only thing I want tonight is right here.”

Your laughter was cut short as she leaned in again, her lips finding the sensitive spot just beneath your jaw. She kissed a path down your neck, her teeth grazing your skin just enough to leave you gasping. You let out a small groan your hips grinding down into her lap. She undid your bra quickly tossing it aside and pulling an erect nipple into her mouth.

“You’re absolutely sinful, you know that?” she murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. The way her dark blue eyes burned into yours made your cheeks flush, your breath catching as she smirked. “If this is how you’re starting Christmas, I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned for our anniversary.”

You reached up, threading your fingers through her hair, tugging gently to draw her closer, her lips connecting with the bare skin between your boobs. “Oh, don’t worry. There’s plenty more where this came from.”

Her laughter was low and wicked, the sound sending another wave of heat through you as she leaned in. “Then let’s make this Christmas one to remember, shall we?”

Her grip was firm as she laid you back onto the plush rug beneath the tree. You couldn’t help but marvel at her strength, the way she carried herself with such confidence and control. The twinkling lights of the tree cast shifting patterns over her face as she trailed heatedly kisses all down your body.

Her thigh was pressed to your core and you tried your best to grind up against her, searching for any kind of friction. She grinned against you at your silent pleas but decided she would be generous with the teasing, sliding her long delicate fingers beneath the waistband of your panties.

“Mm… so wet for me already, waiting all day really did a number on you.” She whispered as her fingers stroked through your dripping folds.

“Agathaaa…” you whined against her soft lips.

“Careful darling, I wouldn’t want to rush unwrapping my gift…”

Her fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear and peeled them off, seeing the wet spot already forming. She tossed them over her shoulder and they ended up hanging from your tree, you chuckled but it was cut short by your wife forcing your legs open.

One hand dug into your bare inner thigh while she watched her fingers slowly drag through your slick, she let out a low possessive groan and she watched you clench around nothing.

She slowly bent down, and stuck out her tongue flatly running it against your pussy tasting you, she gently pulled your clit into her mouth, swirling her tongue.

“Agatha, baby?” You pleaded.

“What does my darling wife need… hmm?” She hummed, mesmerized by the effect she had on you. She continued to tease you, her fingers sliding into you as she moved to bite into your thigh.

You bucked against her at the feeling of her fingers inside you, curling against you but you needed more, you needed to feel more of her inside you.

“Please my love…”

“Words, use your words pretty girl.”

She leaned up kissing your breasts but her fingers roughly pressed against your clit, she felt your buck against her. Her hand on your thigh came up to brush against your swollen lips and you quickly sucked her thumb into your mouth, the action snapping her blue eyes to meet yours. You moaned against her and she roughly brushed your clit again making you gasp and release her finger, her hand coming to wrap around your throat.

“I need you… I need you to fill me up, I need to feel you inside me…” you gasped out, your wife’s breath hot against your skin.

“Does my gorgeous wife need me to fill her with my cock… is that what you need darling?” She asked you and you quickly nodded as you clenched around nothing but air, her fingers still lightly brushing your sensitive clit.

She bent down to kiss you and you whined into her mouth, you bucked your hips and she took the hint. She quickly sat back and fumbled with the button on her jeans, unzipping them and sliding them down her thighs, your mouth watered at the sight of her sliding her pants and underwear over her toned thighs and the effortless way she tossed her sweater and bra aside.

But the moment she waved her hand and a deep red strap appears your mouth ran dry, “Agatha…” you trailed taking in the sight, this one was bigger than the others.

“Cat got your tongue darling?”

“It’s… it’s…”

“Bigger?… well you didn’t think you were the only one with a few presents hidden did you?” She said grasping the silicone cock and lining it up at your entrance, you were propped on your elbows watching as she lined it up and started to push the tip in.

You fell back, the only thing stopping your head from hitting the floor was Agatha’s hand as she cradled you, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders, tears coming to your eyes.

“Agatha, it’s too big…”

“You can take it pretty girl…” she said pushing into you further, the burn and stretch intensifying.

“It hurts… Agatha I don’t know…”

“Okay love… just hold on…” she cradled you in her arms, fingers gently running up your spine as your nails dug into her shoulders. She halted her movements when she finally bottomed out, waiting to feel you relax, when you finally did she spoke up.

“Do you remember your safe word?”

“Snow?”

“Good girl…” you weren’t sure how but you clenched around her at the pet name, “are you okay?… or do you need me to pull out?” She asked.

Agatha could be ruthless but not when it came to you, even if you were being a brat she still let you know that she cared.

“I’m okay… m’okay…” you assured her and felt her start to move, slowly thrusting in and out of you.

You knew she could feel it, the way you clenched around her, the way your pussy greedily pulled her in, Agatha enchanted every single one of your straps. But tonight wasn’t about her, not yet, right now it was about you.

She started to speed up, still holding you in her arms as she thrusted harder and faster… your gasps and moans in her ear signaling that you were close.

“oh god… oh my god… don’t stop… Agatha don’t stop…” you said breathlessly and it only spurred her on.

“Agatha I’m going to…”

“Go ahead love, cum for me pretty girl…” she whispered and she felt you come completely undone, your legs quivering around her waist, your head falling back as your body went limp in her arms.

“Holy shit…” you laughed, your body warm against the rug covering the wooden floor, Agatha watched you closely still planted firmly inside you.

“Darling are you okay if…?” She trailed, motioning to the strap and you slowly nodded. She pulled out and you gasped at the loss of contact, the loss of that fullness but you could feel the ache and soreness building.

“Your turn Mrs. Harkness…” you trailed and grasped her shoulders slowly pushing her to lay in front of the tree.

“Oh, I think…” before she could say anything you ran your hands up her legs, opening her thighs and laying in front of her, you started gently, running your tongue through her dripping pussy, her head falling back as she propped on her elbows.

Your tongue swirled around her clit as her gasps and moans filled the room, you ate her out like a starved woman, one that wanted nothing more than to taste her wife forever.

Agatha’s hand tangled in your hair as you quickly brought her through her first two orgasms, but you didn’t stop there.

You snaked a hand up her thigh planting it firmly on her lower belly, your fingers easily sliding into her as you continued to suck and lick at her clit, your fingers curled inside her hitting that dangerously sweet spot. When you felt her getting close you applied a little more pressure and before you knew it she was orgasming all over again.

She squirted into your mouth, her juices covering your chin, running down your neck. You sat up with the most love drunk smirk on your lips. A little chuckle escaped you as you saw the blissed out look in her eyes, her lips slightly parted.

“Well darling, I see you’ve learned a few things… and apparently that means we’re going to need to replace the rug….” she laughed in a low sultry tone.

“You’re my wife… I’m supposed to know exactly how to make you feel this good… I can always buy another rug.” you leaned up to kiss her lips, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

She kissed you and you could taste the mixing of each other on your lips, the kisses gentle but heated as you both enjoyed each other, hands still gently roaming.

The world outside was forgotten as you lost yourself in her touch, her kisses, and the way she murmured your name like it was the only thing she needed. By the time the tree’s lights began to dim, your plans had unfolded perfectly, and Agatha made sure you knew just how much she appreciated her early Christmas gift.

As you lay together afterward, wrapped in a blanket on the floor beneath the tree, Agatha tilted her head to look at you. “You know,” she said with a teasing smile, “we still haven’t opened the rest of the presents.”

You grinned, resting your head against her chest as her fingers traced lazy circles along your arm. “Oh, I think we’ve already unwrapped the best one.”

Agatha laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Merry Christmas, my perfect little temptress.”

“Merry Christmas, my wicked wife,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of her arms and the soft glow of the tree wrapped around you both like a spell.

#x yn #x reader #x reader smut #smut prompts #agatha all along au #rio x agatha #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x reader #agatha coven of chaos #agatha all along #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #christmas #wlw smut #smut

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cocoandthequill · 27 days ago

Text

High on Hate

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader, Enemies to lovers dynamic

Wc: 3,9K

Warnings: mutual bullying, swearing, smoking, jealousy, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of killing, harassment, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, !switch! reader and leon, biting, spitting, a lil fluff at the end

Summary: As Ashley’s maid of honour reader has to spend a lot of time with someone she can’t stand. When it‘s time for the wedding a faithful moment might change the dynamic between her and Leon.

If you were asked to describe Leon Kennedy, you'd call him a pain in the ass—the kind of guy who made it his personal mission to irritate the hell out of you.

It didn’t help that he always walked around with that smug little smile, the one that just screamed, I’m better than all of you, like he was somehow superior to everyone in the room. And God, how he thrived on it. It was almost like he enjoyed getting under your skin, pushing all the right buttons until you were ready to snap. That cocky attitude, the way he’d drop a snarky remark just to watch you scramble for a comeback—it was as if he lived for the moment you’d roll your eyes and mutter something in frustration. It was infuriating.

And then, of course, there was the fact that he was Ashley’s brother-in-law, her fiancé Ryan’s older brother. That one small detail meant you were stuck dealing with him far more than you ever wanted to, especially now that you had the blessing—and curse—of being Ashley’s maid of honor.

As much as you loved Ash and were excited to be by her side on her big day, the thought of the wedding prep had you dreading one thing: Leon. You didn’t want to spend any more time in the same room as him, enduring his teasing and that smug smile every time he got under your skin. It was like he couldn’t help himself, always lurking in the background, waiting for a moment to rile you up.

One afternoon, as you and the bride-to-be were discussing flower arrangements for the wedding, Leon strolled in, settling into the armchair across from you. “What’s all this?” he asked, eyeing the floral designs. “Planning to suffocate the guests with all these flowers, or going for a ‘garden massacre’ vibe?”

You clenched your jaw, trying to stay calm. “We’re trying to make it personal, Lee,” Ashley said, her voice tight.

Leon smirked. “Cute, but maybe pick something that doesn’t scream ‘lack of style.’” He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with amusement.

Your patience snapped. “Maybe you should keep your opinions to yourself for once.”

He grinned wider. “Oh, I’m sure it’ll work out. At least I’m offering constructive criticism, sweetheart.” With a shrug, he added, “I’ll be here when the real planning starts.”

You forced a smile as he left, muttering under your breath, “And yet, you still manage to contribute nothing.” But of course the asshole didn’t hear this.

After months of planning, hard work, and arguing (mainly with the groom's obnoxious brother), it was finally the day of the wedding.

The venue was beautiful—set in a charming estate surrounded by lush gardens and towering trees. The ceremony area was perfect, with a white flower-draped arch under the open sky, rows of pristine white chairs, and the sweet scent of roses filling the air. It was the kind of place that made everything feel romantic and magical.

You and the girls had already been styled and were nearly ready to go; it was just Ashley now. As you walked downstairs, you noticed Leon standing near the entrance, greeting guests just like you. He was dressed to perfection in his suit, looking annoyingly smug as usual.

You couldn’t resist. "Where’s your date, Kennedy? Couldn’t find a girl that was willing to risk a headache at your company?" you teased, giving him a sly smile.

Leon raised an eyebrow, unfazed by your jab, but the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. "I’m not the one who needs a date to look good, sweetheart," he shot back, his grin widening. "But thanks for the offer."

You shot him a pointed look, but before you could respond, Leon’s eyes flicked down to your dress, his smirk growing."Nice dress, by the way," he said, dragging the words out. "Did you get it from your grandma’s collection of curtains?" His tone was dripping with mock sweetness.

You stiffened, fighting the urge to punch him in his stupidly handsome face. "Keep talking, Leon, and you’ll be wishing you hadn’t."

He let out a soft laugh, his eyes twinkling with mock innocence. "Wow, am I supposed to be scared now?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Should I start writing my will, or is it more of a 'wait until after the ceremony' situation?"

Not even five minutes into the ordeal, and the bastard was already making you want to strangle him in front of everybody.

Slowly, the guests arrived, settling into their assigned seats, their murmurs of excitement filling the brisk summer air. You and the bridesmaids made your way to the altar, each step echoing in the quiet space.

As your luck played out, it was Leon who stood by you, not just as a guest but as Ryan's brother and best man. His expression was serious now, unlike all the times you’d observed him before, as though he too was caught up in the weight of the moment.

Ryan, on the other hand, looked excited, almost nervous, his hands fidgeting slightly as he stood across from you. His gaze kept drifting toward the back of the venue, eagerly awaiting his bride’s entrance.

And there she was, Ashley, looking more beautiful than ever. The soft rustle of the breeze carried the sound of the music, and the guests, all seated in their chairs under the open sky, turned their attention to her as she made her way down the aisle. The light of the setting sun caught the delicate details of her dress, and her smile was bright enough to rival the afternoon sun. Ryan’s eyes locked onto her, his nervousness melting away into pure admiration.

You felt a small tear prick at your waterline, threatening to spill over. This was your best friend, the girl you’d grown up with, the sister you never had, walking toward a new chapter in her life. Watching her so radiant, so happy, it hit you harder than you expected.

It felt like just yesterday you were both dreaming about days like this, and now here she was, making it all real.

The reception was beautifully done, everything you planned turning out even better than expected. You had to admit, you were proud of everyone who helped bring it all together. The food was fantastic, the atmosphere warm and joyful, and it felt like everything fell into place perfectly. You were able to enjoy yourself, laughing and dancing with all your friends, celebrating with the newlyweds, and soaking in the happiness of the day.

You were on the dance floor with the girls, spinning and laughing to the music, when an older man you recognized as a pretty known politician approached you. It was no surprise that many prominent people had been invited; after all, Ashley’s father had been the president just a few years back. The man was impeccably dressed, his smile warm but professional. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice smooth.

A little surprised, you smiled politely and nodded, stepping into his arms. As you danced, the senator’s hand settled a little too low on your back, his fingers brushing the curve of your waist in a way that made you tense. You tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine, but it was hard. He leaned in too close, speaking in a low voice, complimenting you on how stunning you looked tonight. His hand lingered, his touch too familiar, and you tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip, forcing you to stay closer.

Leon remained at his table, nursing a glass of whiskey as he engaged in light conversation with some of his friends and family. His eyes wandered around, not focused on anything in particular. Then he saw you, dancing with this guy.

His gaze sharpened, though his expression stayed neutral. He leaned back slightly in his chair, observing the two of you with a mix of curiosity and something more difficult to identify. His fingers tightened around his glass for a moment before he took another sip, though his thoughts seemed distant. The music in the background faded as his attention zeroed in, studying the way you moved with the guy.

You didn’t look like you really enjoyed the moment and he didn’t either. The way the old man’s grimy hands drifted over you made his blood run cold. His jaw clenched involuntarily. It wasn’t just the sight of you with someone else; it was the way he touched you, like you were his to claim. Leon could feel his patience wearing thin, his mind racing with a mix of anger and something darker.

He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but it did.

Without thinking, he pushed himself up from the table, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. His eyes never left you as he made his way through the crowd, the music blurring around him. His steps quickened as he drew closer, he couldn’t let this go on any longer.

"Hey man, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna steal her from you for a second," Leon said, clapping the guy on the back a little too forcefully, his tone more blunt than necessary.

The senator shot him a confused look, clearly caught off guard, but before he could respond, Leon turned his attention to you.

"Actually, we weren’t d..." he began, but Leon cut him off with a sharp look, his patience running thin.

"The whiskey’s fine, but I’m sure you’re more interested in the oysters. You’re welcome to them," Leon dismissed him, his voice laced with a hint of sarcasm as he ignored the man entirely.

Leon then turned to you, his tone shifting. "So, what do you say, sweetheart? Want to dance?" He extended his hand to you, his gaze intense, waiting for your response.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips. Leon’s expression softened ever so slightly, and he took one of your small hands in his, placing his other hand on your waist. His grip was firm, but not overpowering, guiding you with ease.

The music faded into the background, the beat barely noticeable as the two of you moved together.

Thank you," you said, cringing internally, already bracing for his inevitable response.

"Princess Y/N, thanking me?" Leon gasped, raising an eyebrow in exaggerated disbelief. "Never thought I'd see the day."

His smirk widened as he leaned in just a bit closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. "Guess I must be doing something right."

You flashed him a grin, rolling your eyes dramatically. "Don’t get cocky, Kennedy," you shot back, your voice laced with playful sarcasm. "Something tells me you came rushing to save me because you couldn't stand the thought of someone else getting all my attention. Didn’t like seeing how his hands were all over me, huh?"

Leon’s expression wavered for a brief second before he regained his composure, a low laugh slipping from his lips. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. Jealousy’s not my style. You just looked like a mess, and I figured I’d be nice for a change and lend a hand to a damsel in distress.”

You raised an eyebrow, arms crossed as you looked up at him with a cool expression. “Nice try, Leon. You’re so full of yourself, it’s almost impressive. Just don’t get it twisted , we hate each other and you trying to be good for once isn’t going to make you seem like a saint.“

The man smirked, unfazed by your words. He leaned back slightly, his arms folding across his chest as he studied you with a mocking glint in his eyes. “Oh, I’m not trying to be a saint,” he replied, “I’m just doing what any decent person would do. But hey, keep telling yourself whatever helps you sleep at night, Y/N.”

You scoffed, pulling away from Leon. "I’m done with your childish antics. Enjoy the reception, and stop bothering me." Without waiting for a reply, you turned and walked away.

Leon couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride—he loved getting under your skin. It almost excited him, though he couldn’t deny that your smile, rare as it was when aimed at him, was captivating. Standing on the dancefloor, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching your figure fade into the crowd.

Had he imagined it, or were you swaying your hips just a little more than usual?

Fucking tease.

A few hours and several bottles of champagne later, the night was winding down. Most people had already gone to bed or left the property. It was three in the morning, yet your group—including the bridesmaids, Ash, Ryan, and a few of his friends—was still going strong.

You slipped away from the group, craving a moment of peace. Stepping outside, you made your way through the quiet night to the terrace. The cool air brushed against your skin as you leaned against the railing, your gaze drifting to the distant lights.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a tall figure a few feet away—broad shoulders, blonde hair. His suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up to reveal veiny, muscular forearms. Leon. You weren’t sure if he had noticed you, but your eyes lingered on him, unwilling to look away. You felt something pool in the pit of your stomach.

And then you saw it—the fucker was holding a blunt. You couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh, the sight of him so unexpected and out of place. Leon slowly turned, raising an eyebrow as he caught your gaze, a half-smirk playing on his lips.

"Aren’t you the one fighting crime, officer?" you teased, a grin spreading across your face.

Leon took a slow drag, his eyes locking with yours. "Well, can't really arrest myself now, can I?" he replied, before adding with a mischievous glint, "But I wouldn't mind arresting you."

You feigned a shocked look, a playful laugh escaping your lips. "Is that a threat or an offer?" you shot back, the tension between you thickening as you couldn't help but smile at his boldness.

The thought of him putting handcuffs on you briefly crossed your mind - for fuck‘s sake.

"Give me a hit!" you demanded, your tone playful yet firm.

Leon raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. Without a word, he stepped closer and pressed the blunt to your lips, gently guiding it into your mouth while taking your jaw in his calloused hand. "Jesus, sweetheart, couldn’t have asked nicer," he murmured, his voice low and amused as he watched you.

The way you inhaled the smoke, holding his gaze without flinching, stirred something deep inside Leon. His chest tightened, a burning feeling spreading through him. You were beautiful, effortlessly so, and in that moment, he couldn’t look away.

Slowly, you handed the blunt back to him, your fingers brushing against his. He didn’t pull away; instead, Leon took a step forward, backing you against the railing. And you didn’t stop him. You didn’t know if it was the champagne making you more than just tipsy, the weed, or the mix of both, but in that moment, you didn’t plan on leaving. You stayed, heart racing, fully aware of the heat building between you.

And then you did it. Taking another drag, you closed the small gap between the two of you, your breath mingling with his. You exhaled the smoke slowly, letting it drift into his awaiting mouth, your eyes locked on his the entire time. Leon’s blue orbs were dark now, lust evident in them. You slung your arms around his neck, bringing him even closer. An electric tension crackling between you as you both lingered in the shared space.

Leon inhaled the toxic substance greedily and brought his lips to yours hungrily.

This kiss was anything but sweet. It was filthy and desperate, tongues exploring another, teeth clashing against each other. Both battling for dominance. He pulled you even closer, grasping the back of your neck with one hand, his other on your waist, gripping tightly.

Leon didn’t care about being gentle with you, he was desperate and needed to feel something. To feel you. From the inside out.

Slowly, you broke apart, breathing shallowly. The blunt lay somewhere in the grass, completely forgotten. You had your hands on his broad chest, exploring the taut muscles underneath the thin layer of cotton. Slowly, you peered up at him from under your lashes, "Come to my room?“ you asked, though you both knew that this wasn’t a question. Leon didn’t hesitate for a second. You almost ran to the room, fumbling to find the key to unlock it. When you stepped inside, none of you had bothered to take off their shoes.

In an instant, Leon threw you on the bed and crawled on top of you. With both of his toned arms on either side of your head, he had you caged in, trapped. The man was lowering his lips to yours again. Then he started trailing kisses down your jaw, to your neck. "Fuck, sweetheart, you smell divine. Can’t wait to ruin you.“ he rasped against your skin, clearly at least as intoxicated as you. You could feel his hard-on, pressing against your clothed core. „God K-K-Kennedy, make yourself useful and do something about it.“ you mewled, desperate to feel something between your thighs. Leon pushed himself off you and hiked your dress up. Ever so the obedient man. He chuckled when he saw your lace panties "All this for me? Cute.“

"Shut up!“ you hissed, shoving his face to the spot you wanted it most.

He pushed your thighs apart, dragging his fingertips above the exposed skin, watching with a grin, as you wrothe beneath him impatiently. Then, he took ahold of one of your legs and draped your high-heeled foot above his shoulder. Slowly, the blonde started leaving small pecks from your ankle - placed on his broad front - to the length of your limb, reaching your inner thighs. Gradually he started biting into them, almost breaking the tender skin, causing you to shriek and moan from the pain and frustration, that was building up inside of you.

Afterwards, Leon started kissing and licking at your cunt, still clad in lace. He pulled your underwear up, watching amusedly as your puffy folds encased the delicate fabric. He ripped your panties off with his teeth and sneakily pocketed them in his suit pants.

Leon wanted a reminder of this shared moment, something real but almost unreal, with the woman he had come to hate so deeply over the years.

You were so needy and whiny already and he hasn’t even got to touch you. He began licking a long stripe up the length of your pussy, before sucking on your clit, letting it go with a pop. "Lord!“ you hissed, tangling your fingers in his messy hair and pushing him even deeper into your heat. "The most beautiful meal, sweetheart.“ Leon groaned against your core, his voice muffled by the puffy lips, his nose bumping against your sensitive pearl. He ate you out like a man starved. Every time you slightly squirmed, he would grip your thighs harshly, stopping you from trembling any further.

He added one hand, running it along your slit, carefully easing his index finger into your fluttering hole, while sucking and pulling on your clit with his teeth. You whined and clenched around him as Leon did so, which encouraged him to add another digit into you. Slowly, he stared thrusting in and out of your pussy, enjoying the squelching sounds of your wetness, making you scream his name, while tears were running down your flushed cheeks already "F-Fuckk, Leonnn, ffuuuck, I gotta-gotta pee.“, you screamed at him, in hopes of him stopping. But he didn’t, the man watched as he brought you to your high, a predatory glint in his blue orbs.

You shuddered, the sweet release you had chased, escaping your gaping hole as it catapulted you into another dimension."Dirty slut, look at the mess you made“, he said in a condescending, almost mocking tone as he roughly took your jaw in his large hands, turning your face to make you look around at the aftermath of your arousal. You both knew how much he enjoyed watching you squirt for him.

You slowly reached for the collar off his dress shirt, connecting his lips to yours, being able to taste yourself on Leon’s tongue now. Moaning into the kiss you started tearing his clothes off of him, throwing them somewhere in the room. The man pulled your dress over your head, smirking as your braless tits came into his view, bouncing slightly as you positioned yourself on his, still clothed, manhood. You began to grind on it, teasingly, making him groan needily, looking up at you with hooded eyes "Aghh, n-nneeed to fuck you noww, sweetheart.“ You palmed him through his boxers, noticing a stain of precum on the black fabric, "Ohh baby, you’re just so eager for me.“ you praised, teasing him. Slowly you lowered yourself between his beefy thighs and started giving his cock feather light kisses, eliciting even more desperate growls from your supposed nemesis. He looked down at you with pleading eyes, any remaining trace of smugness gone now. Leon stroked your hair with his hand, almost encouragingly, egging you on to go further.

You just stared up at him though, a mean smile on your full lips.

And before you knew it, he had manhandled you so you were positioned flat on your belly underneath him. Now on top of you again, his boxers off, Leon teased the tip of his dick between your puffy, pink folds, though not entering you yet. You turned your head, trying to sneak a look at his length, when he pushed your head into the mattress. "Look at who’s desperate now.“, he chuckled degradingly, almost sadistically. You could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck.

Slowly, he prodded at your entrance with his tip and without any warning he plunged himself into your pussy fully, a loud groan escaping him. "Leeeonn, oh g-god.“ you babbled, completely cockdrunk in an instant, not comprehending anything. He gave you almost no time to adjust, then he bottomed out completely, his heavy balls slapping against your sensitive clit. Leon took your jaw into his hand and made you gaze at him, keeping eye contact. While still ruthlessly pounding into you, he pried your mouth open with this thumb and spit into it, leaving a string of saliva that connected your lips to his swollen ones. "Swallow, slut.“ And you did, hungry for more, you kissed him again. Teeth clashing against each other from the force he was using to fuck into you. You could feel his tip, pressing against your favourite spot now, making you gasp out an array of profanities.

His other hand had found your needy clit and started rubbing it, pleasuring you even further. With his broad chest, still flush with your back, he left a trail of kisses and bites on your neck and shoulders. The room was filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin and both of your desperate moans and pants. "B-baby aaah, c-can’t last much longeer.“, Leon groaned into the crook of your neck, his tip kissing your cervix simultaneously.

Your fingers entwined on the sheets, you reached your high, at the same time. A shudder went through your whole body as the burning coil in your gut finally snapped, the sweet release coming to you.

His thrusts got sloppier and he spurted his hot sperm into your awaiting womb.

Afterwards Leon and you stayed like that for a bit, basking in the warmth and comfort of each other. He slowly pulled out of your warmth, making sure not to hurt your sore body.

The blonde-haired man started cleaning you up. Afterwards he got back into bed with you, cradling you against his broad chest. You were almost asleep when you mumbled, "I still hate you, Leon.“

He chuckled, his lips grazing the crown of your head as he whispered, "Funny, because I could’ve sworn you were about to say you love me, sweetheart.“

Y‘all I‘m sorry about any spelling errors, I didn’t proofread this thing bc I honestly think it’s not that good. Just had an idea and I wanted to write it down before I forgot. Also lmk if you would want to read more stuff with Leon bc I honestly just love him. For this story I imagined re4 Leon because it would match the storyline by age best but whatever suits you. Thank you for reading, xx

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gloomwitchwrites · 11 months ago

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Flower Crown

Aragorn x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, light angst, kissing, non-descriptive intimacy

Word Count: 2k

During a spring festival, the man you love returns unexpectedly.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // spring 2024 masterlist

The sky is a cloudless, endless ocean above your head.

You breathe deep, savoring the scents in the air. Newly bloomed flowers, freshly baked bread, and roasting chicken all infiltrate your nostrils, reminding of you the celebration that’s about to begin. Anticipation buzzes under your skin like a swarm of startled bees. You’ve been waiting for this all winter. Spring is finally here, knocking, ready to be greeted. The flowers are in full bloom, and the trees have awakened from their solemn slumber.

Every year the small village in which you’ve lived your whole life celebrates the changing of the seasons. A community-wide festival is held. Each person is involved in their own way, and the duties are often assigned at the beginning of winter to allow everyone to prepare. Sometimes, these responsibilities shift, but a few remain the same.

Last year, you attended the baker in their duties to provide baked goods. This year, you were tasked with sewing new dresses for all the unmarried young women. The base fabric, an off-white cotton, remains the same. It’s like a blank page awaiting colorful paint or black ink, each dress ready to be designed with every young woman in mind. You, and several of the married women, take great care in personalizing each dress to the young ladies’ personalities.

It is not by chance that this happens. It is more than tradition. Rebirth and renewal are the themes of the festival, and with that comes an influx of weddings. The dresses are for that very reason, as a form of matchmaking, along with the presented flower crowns and the festival itself. You’ve always thought it silly but never truly commented on the matter. Fortunately, with you on sewing duties, you were able to work on your own dress.

With the dresses come flower crowns. They are given to the young women by unmarried men of the village. It is always the married women and village elders who quietly determine which man will gift what crown to who. They’re intuition is almost always correct. It is rare for a pair to not eventually marry. Sometimes it is quick, and sometimes it is years later before either realizes they belong together.

And the flower crowns are the true beauty. Another group handmakes each one. But because you know how intricate they are, you did nothing for your dress. It is simple. Plain. Just because you’re forced to be part of this tradition doesn’t mean you want to try and find a husband. You’re perfectly fine alone, because the man you do want is far away.

He isn’t avoiding you. Not on purpose. Aragorn is a ranger. He thrives in the wilds, seeking out the darkness to rid it from the world. But you do miss your wanderer. He tries to travel through your area as often as he can just to see you.

Over the years, the friendliness has grown, becoming heat and tension.

None of the other men in the village make you feel the way he does, and they likely never will.

In the shade of a tree, you smooth out the front of your dress. The tips of your fingers itch and you need to move them just to calm yourself. That alone is silly. What do you have to be nervous for? The process is always the same, always consistent, so why do you feel like this?

The young, unmarried women begin to congregate near the arch of flowers. Breathing deep, you march forward, finding your spot where it always is. You can taste the eagerness in the air. The women around you are just as nervous, nearly bouncing on their toes. They whisper to each other, giggling, but none of them glance your way or address you.

All day, and not even one has thanked you for your work.

But you won’t let it eat away at your resolve. Today is a good day. You’ll drink berry wine and gorge yourself on delicious food while listening to the married women gossip about their husbands.

As the village elders arrive, all talking ceases. That is the cue, and just like the women in line, you curtesy. You’re not allowed to look up, to glance into the face of the man who will place a crown upon your head. You keep your head bent and gaze on the ground.

There is shuffling, the rustling of hands lifting crowns. You focus on the green grass beneath your feet. You’re the only one up here not wearing shoes. You breathe in, and out, watching as so many pairs of polished boots pass by.

When someone does stop before you, the boots are not clean. They are muddy and have seen travel. You almost want to laugh but really, you’re curious. Who is this? Who would be so bold to come to the crowning with filthy boots?

In the next moment, the crown is placed upon your head. You don’t move. Don’t breathe. The stranger’s fingers brush the underside of your chin, pressing gently. You respond. You can’t resist. It is natural to do so.

Your gaze takes in this stranger as your head lifts. And when you see his face, you realize that this is no stranger at all.

“Aragorn,” you whisper, and his response is a smile.

There is applause, and good-natured cheering all around, and yet you respond to none of it. It is only him, this man you’ve been missing, standing before you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask just as the music starts up. It’s too early. Aragorn often arrives in the fall when the leaves start to change.

Others are already wandering off together or going their separate ways. You’re left staring, happy to see him but not understanding why.

“To see you,” he replies.

To see you. To see you. Whatever nervousness you felt before is gone, replaced with a giddiness that sends heat right to your cheeks.

When you don’t reply immediately, Aragorn frowns. “Have I upset you?”

“No!” You reach for him, grabbing his upper arm, taking a step forward. “Not at all. I’m just…surprised.”

His gaze softens, and you could fall into his depths. “Didn’t think I’d come?”

“You always visit when the weather begins to cool.”

“I do,” he agrees. “Couldn’t stay away.” Aragorn says this almost absently as his fingers toy with a white ribbon on your dress.

A young woman shrieks with delight, and you and Aragorn both turn as she’s hoisted in the air.

“Would you like to dance?” he asks.

The answer is immediate. “Yes.”

He presents his hand, and you take it. His palm is warm. Strong. Aragorn leads, and then you’re moving, matching the correct steps. It’s not an intense dance but it isn’t slow either.

“Did you just arrive?”

He smiles. “As they were distributing the flowers.”

“Is that why you’re so dirty?” Aragorn laughs as you lean in and sniff, making an exaggerated expression. “And smelly?”

“I thought you liked the way I smelled after a ride.” Aragorn wraps his arm around your waist, turning as he does so.

“A ride,” you correct. “Not a journey.”

The music swells, dips, and then increases in pace. You’re left focusing on your feet, going through the motions. But Aragorn knows what he’s doing, and he leads you through it effortlessly. It’s difficult to speak, but his hands do enough talking. Aragorn’s touch lingers. He might squeeze slightly or allow his hand to wander. It stirs something hot in your belly that travels lower until you’re blazing everywhere.

When the music comes to an end, and the two of you are out of breath, Aragorn places his hand on your lower waist and guides you away.

“Something to drink?”

“Please.”

Berry wine is had before Aragorn takes your hand again, the two of you strolling off into the nearby orchard. Between the trees, there is privacy, the two of you walking in gentle silence. It’s just your hand in his and the warm breeze that stirs up your dress.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say, stopping next to an apple tree. There are leaves on its branches but no blooms.

Aragorn comes to a stop beside you, his chest nearly brushing your shoulder. “Glad? That is all you feel?” With a soft touch, Aragorn turns your head in his direction. His head is angled downward, and there is no escaping what you see in his eyes.

There are times when the two of you have found a bit of quiet, some peace only with the need to explore the other. As you gaze upon his face, you are entirely aware of what he wants, but Aragorn is an honorable man. He will not push or insist on more unless you’re the one who seeks it out.

The berry wine is warm in your blood. Aragorn’s nearness is just as intoxicating. His fingers play with that same ribbon, and you lean into his touch until your noses brush lightly against each other.

“There is plenty I feel,” you reply, your voice a whisper amongst the birdsong and breeze.

“Is your heart willing to share?” Aragorn tugs lightly on the ribbon, loosening a portion of the bodice.

“Is yours willing to hear the truth?” you counter, knowing that you’d give him anything in this moment.

Aragorn tugs on the ribbon again, loosening the bodice further. Air rushes into your lungs as your chest receives a bit of freedom. “Tell me now. Under the trees. Let the sky listen.”

“You’re far too sweet to be a warrior,” you laugh, and Aragorn grins, closing the distance. The kiss is chaste and lovely, sending heat down to your toes and up to the crown of your head.

Your fingers find the front of his tunic. They curl inward, pulling of their own accord, seeking his closeness. Aragorn indulges, deepening the kiss until your bodies are pressed together. His hand rises, clutching the back of your neck. There is only you and him and your repeated meetings.

When you finally break apart, your lips are raw, and you hunger for more. You ache for deeper things, and long to tell him so.

“Is this all right?” he asks, fingers brushing against your exposed collarbone.

“Yes,” you murmur in reply, shivering under his touch.

Aragorn returns to your mouth, and you open for him. Your own fingers explore as much as his, but it is Aragorn’s fingers that venture beneath fabric.

You inhale sharply, and his hand retreats. “Apologies.”

“Don’t stop,” you say, grasping his wrist to guide his hand back to your skin.

Under the shade of the apple tree, Aragorn follows your lead, the two of you finding a dance. Although time has not been kind, keeping the two of you parted, there is no need to rush. You are happy simply existing with him, taking time to explore and savor what you’ve missed over the last few months.

Every caress is a song, and each kiss not only satiates but fuels the hunger that sits low in your belly. Fingers press and dig into skin. Clothing opens or falls away. There is no one else around, and Aragorn’s warmth is all you seek.

“Will you stay?” you ask between kisses.

Aragorn pauses, drawing back slightly. “For a few days.”

A few days. A few days with him and then separation. With Aragorn arriving now, will he return in the fall? Or will this be your new normal?

Even as these doubts swirl in your mind, you know the truth.

You don’t care.

As long as he comes, as long as he returns to you when he can, that is enough.

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck

@tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @cherryofdeath

@berarenado @therealbloom @ninman82 @thewulf @ferns-fics

@beebeechaos @hantheconqueror @miaraei

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it-happened-one-fic · 4 months ago

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Twisted Weddings: Photoshoot #1 - Quite the Image

Summary: Your first photoshoot was going to be with Trey. The question was whether the presence of the bicycle or exactly how good he looked in a suit was more startling, and the bicycle really seemed to be winning. Either way, you could only hope your first attempt at modeling went pseudo-well.

Type: Female reader/ 800 Followers Event/ Series/ sfw/ fluff/ light-flirtation

Twisted Weddings Series Masterlist

Word count: 1346

“So… A bike,” Trey eyed the bicycle that was leaned against a pole as I shifted. Doing my best to not continue eyeing him. But, to be fair, I’d never actually seen Trey in a suit before. Much less one that was tailored specifically to make him look his absolute best.

I’d been impressed enough when I’d seen the gown I was wearing. A slim-fitting dress with fluttery, sheer sleeves that could get caught in even the smallest of breezes and made for a rather dreamy-looking dress.

And the embarrassing thing was that I knew that both it and I looked nice. Trey’s reaction could have only been so faked.

I could only hope that I hadn’t been as obvious in my surprise at how nice he looked. At the very least, I knew I hadn’t openly gaped at him.

“Maybe we’re both going to be riding it for the photo?” I stepped over next to Trey. Eyeing the lone visible prop for our photoshoot.

An old-looking bicycle.

Trey shook his head though, a slight frown on his face, “I doubt it. Your skirt might get caught in the wheel or something….”

He trailed off, glancing my way with a half smile as he tilted his head, “It probably would be a cute photo though.”

I nodded, quietly agreeing with him as I did my best to ignore the way the slight breeze ruffled my sleeves as he hummed thoughtfully.

“I guess it could be a picture of us walking together while pushing a bike?” He hardly sounded confident in his theory, but I felt myself nod, crossing my arms slightly as I continued to eye the bicycle.

But unfortunately, there was no telling exactly what Crewel had planned.

“Alright, Pups!” Me and Trey both jerked upright as Crewel strolled out of the building and over to where we were standing. Almost as if he’d been signaled by my thoughts that right now was the perfect time to make his appearance.

Trey and I turned together, both looking towards our instructor, and the man who skittered after him with all sorts of photography-related paraphernalia at the same time. And all at once I realized this was actually happening. As if the wedding clothes hadn’t been enough.

I was going to be featured heavily as a model in a photoshoot for Crewel’s latest designs for bridal clothes.

Trey and I briefly exchanged glances before we looked back towards our instructor who stopped in front of us. Almost as if we were thinking the same thing. But neither of us spoke as Crewel began to explain.

“I’m sure the two of you have already realized that you have this bicycle as your prop,” Crewel gestured idly to the bicycle, and we both nodded. With me glancing back at it and idly wondering exactly how this was going to work.

Me and Trey both looked towards Crewel for explanation, though. But both of us knew that Crewel was going to tell us how we were going to be posed and what we were going to be doing.

And he wasted no time in doing just that, “Good. Y/n. You get on the bike first. Trey, you’ll be behind them and actually pedaling.”

Trey hesitated slightly, glancing over at me worriedly before he looked towards Crewel, “But… Professor, won’t Y/n’s skirt get caught in the wheels?”

Crewel’s eyebrows arched at the young man next to me, and I shifted, idly scooting backwards as Crewel crossed his arms and eyed Trey, “Y/n is going to be riding side-saddle, Mr. Clover. Her skirt is slim-fitting and will take care of itself.”

Trey nodded, his eyes widening slightly before he turned, his gaze barely meeting mine as he made a slight face before reaching over and rolling the bike over so that I could perch on it carefully. All while Crewel continued.

“Both of you will need to ignore the photographer. He’s going to be snapping pictures the very moment the two of you are on the bike, but you need to pretend like he isn’t here. Do NOT look at the camera.”

I nodded lightly, balancing myself carefully. And the very moment I was balanced, Trey was on the bike behind me, bumping me slightly as he muttered apologies, and I shook my head. Scooting forward to try and give him more only to almost slide off the seat.

I could hear the camera snapping in the background as Trey caught me with an arm around my waist, laughing slightly as I gripped the handlebars in front of me and he pushed off.

The bicycle wobbled as he pedaled, and I tried to steer us in a reasonably straight path before he reached forward and grabbed the handle-bars as I slowly got tickled at exactly how bad we were doing.

But it was like something as simple as riding a bicycle had suddenly become impossibly difficult now that we were being looked at.

My arms rested lightly on the front of the bicycle as I giggled, my laughter causing Trey to start chuckling behind me even as I heard Crewel release a sigh of long suffering as we came to a stop. Both of us laughing as the bicycle rocked to the side for what had to be the thousandth time.

I leaned back, sighing slightly as I twisted to see Crewel walking towards us before I glanced at Trey, “Think we’re in trouble?”

He shook his head, a smile still on his face as he offered a only slightly guilty-looking half shrug. But before either he or Crewel could speak, the photographer was piping up.

“Mr. Crewel, I actually got some good shots there!” Crewel stopped, his eyebrows arching as he looked at the photographer with almost the same degree of surprise as I felt.

Nonetheless, the man trotted over, showing Crewel the screen of his camera as he spoke, “All of these pictures show a certain degree of happiness wedding photos don’t often have due to how staged they are. These two actually look like a happy young couple having some fun on their big day.”

Crewel nodded as he looked through the pictures before pointing at one in particular, “This one.”

Apparently understanding, the photographer nodded, “Yes, I liked that one too. The way he’s smiling down at the young lady is particularly nice here, and they are just starting to laugh.”

“The wind also caught both the sleeves and the edge of the skirt nicely too,” Crewel paused, looking up at us with slightly arched eyebrows. “It looks like you’ve both lucked up. There are some good pictures here.”

“So we’re free to go?” Trey looked about as hesitant as I felt, but Crewel nodded.

“Since the photos are good, you’re done.” He paused, his gaze shifting to me as he tilted his head, “And how do you feel about going ahead and getting another photo-shoot done today, Pup?”

I hesitated before I nodded, “Yeah, that should be fine.”

“Alright then, and good work Mr. Clover,” I felt myself grin over at Trey who looked at me with a sigh. Like he knew perfectly well to expect teasing.

“Looking forward to becoming a poster boy for grooms everywhere?” I nudged with my shoulder as we both walked back towards the campus proper to get changed. Him back into his normal clothes and me into a different wedding gown.

He chuckled, only slightly flustered before he grinned over at me, a glint of meanness entering his honey-colored eyes, “Not as much as I’m looking forward to getting to see everyone else’s faces at the dorm.”

I blinked, tilting my head curiously at him, “You're heading back to the dorm to show the guys your suit?”

He chuckled again, shaking his head, “No. I meant when they see our pictures. Apparently we cut quite the image as a young couple.”

It was a fight not to shove him for his teasing, but I took it with only a slight bit of embarrassment.

After all, he was just quoting the photographer.

If you would like to read more

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sleepyy-ollie · 3 months ago

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❆ Wedding looks from the Winter Court!

❆ I was hoping to post this one during Winter Court Week but I put too much on my plate as usual 🫣

❆ Let me know what court you want to see wedding looks from next!

❆ Please do not repost or use with AI

See my head cannons below the cut!

❆ Varying shades of white and grey hair are common throughout the winter Court, as well as grey eyes

❆ Even in the cold, brides still get married outside under arches made of icicles or beside frozen waterfalls

❆ Which means that wedding looks require lots of layers and warmth!

❆ I imagine light blue seudes, crushed white velvet, shimmering embroidery, iridescent tulle, lace with snowflake patterns, and warm knit stockings.

❆ The crystals, sparkles, and pearls adorning each look are made of ice, enchanted not to melt! The earrings are frozen water droplets and shards of ice.

❆ This bride's bouquet includes white and blush roses, eucalyptus, pine fronds, baby's breath, and red winter berries.

❆ The skirt of the wedding dress was inspired by the Water Tribe outfit designs in ATLA.

❆ Find the rest of the inspo pics here!

#art #digital art #digital artist #artblr #artists on tumblr #ollie draws #drawing #fan art #fanart #acotar #acotar fanart #acotar fan art #acotar art #winter court #the winter court #winter court art #winter court aesthetic #wedding dress

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eclipixels · 1 month ago

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HI! I love your works, and I was wondering if you can write with Reo, with a reader who is his childhood friend that he married but their marriage failed and like years later he finds the reader again and finds out they had a daughter, Thank you! (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Avoid

Reo Mikage x Reader

[3,548 words]

The first time you and Reo met, you were both wrapped in soft blankets, oblivious to the world and fresh out the womb. Your parents, strangers at the time, struck up a conversation in the hospital waiting room. By the time they left with their newborns, they had exchanged phone numbers and promises to stay in touch.

Your childhood was filled with laughter and shared milestones. Every birthday was a grand affair, your families going all out.

"All right, Y/n and Reo, blow out your candles!" your parents would call, the warm glow of cake candles flickering between you.

"Three… two… one!" Reo grinned at you before you both sucked in deep breaths, extinguishing the flames in unison. Cheers erupted around you, your parents clapping, cameras flashing.

"You totally wished for something dumb," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

"Did not! I wished for, " He stopped himself, sticking his tongue out. "Not telling you, or it won’t come true."

Every school year started and ended with the two of you side by side. You were an unshakable duo, finishing each other’s sentences, stealing each other’s notes, and causing mischief that your parents always pretended not to notice.

As you grew older, something shifted. Maybe it was the way his gaze lingered a little longer or how his hand found yours naturally, without a second thought. Maybe it was the way your name sounded different when he said it, softer, more meaningful.

By the time Reo realized he loved you, it wasn’t a revelation; it was a confirmation of something he’d always known.

"I mean, proximity and like-mindedness are literally the basis of attraction," he joked one evening, lying next to you on the grass, staring at the stars. "Psychology says so. It was inevitable."

"Oh, so you love me because of science?" you teased, turning your head to face him.

He smirked, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "No, I love you because you're you. The science just backs me up."

He kissed you that night, and nothing had ever felt more right.

When Reo got into the Blue Lock program, you were his biggest supporter. His team quickly learned your name, recognizing you as "Mikage’s rich, pretty girlfriend," someone who matched his energy and belonged in his world. But to Reo, you weren’t just someone who fit his lifestyle, you were the only person he could ever imagine by his side.

The day he proposed, he was shaking.

"You nervous?" you teased, eyeing the way he kept fidgeting.

He scoffed. "What? No! I just, okay, maybe a little." He took a deep breath, then got down on one knee. "But not about asking. Just about you saying no."

Tears pricked your eyes. "Like I could ever say no to you, Mikage Reo."

The day you got married was the happiest day of his life. He had everything, the love of his life, his best friend, and his forever.

The Mikage wedding was the event of the year. No, the decade. Extravagant, luxurious, and dripping in opulence, just as everyone expected. When two people with endless wealth and impeccable taste decided to tie the knot, the result was nothing short of legendary.

The ceremony took place on a private island, rented exclusively for the occasion. White rose petals lined the aisle, the scent of fresh jasmine floating in the warm evening air. Crystal chandeliers hung from towering floral arches, their glow reflecting off the ocean waves beyond. Every chair was custom-made, embroidered with the initials M & Y, a keepsake for each guest. The sky, painted in hues of pink and gold, looked as if it had been designed just for them.

Reo stood at the altar, adjusting the cuff of his designer tuxedo for what felt like the hundredth time. His heart pounded as he stole a glance at the guests, business moguls, soccer stars, and high-society elites all gathered in anticipation. His Blue Lock teammates were near the front, some looking uncomfortable in their formal suits, but all undeniably impressed.

Then, the music started. A soft piano melody, slow and elegant.

And then, you stepped into view.

The entire crowd seemed to inhale at once. Even with all the luxury surrounding you, you were the most breathtaking thing there. Your gown, a custom piece flown in from Paris, shimmered like liquid starlight with every step. The train flowed behind you like a cascading dream, and the delicate veil, embroidered with tiny pearls, framed your face like something out of a fairytale.

Reo swore his heart stopped.

His hands twitched at his sides, resisting the urge to run to you, to take you in his arms and claim this moment as his forever.

"Wow," he whispered under his breath, eyes locked onto you. His best man, Nagi, of course, smirked and nudged him.

"Don’t pass out, man," Nagi teased lazily. "That’d be embarrassing."

Reo barely heard him. The second you reached him, he grabbed your hands, his touch warm and grounding.

"You’re shaking," you whispered, squeezing his fingers.

"Yeah, well, I’m looking at the most beautiful person in the world," he murmured back, smirking. "Kinda hard to keep my cool."

The ceremony itself was perfect. Vows spoken in soft, emotion-filled voices, fingers trembling slightly as rings were exchanged.

"I’ve loved you in every way possible," Reo said, eyes never leaving yours. "As a best friend. As a partner. As the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. No matter what comes next, I know one thing, there’s no version of my future without you in it."

Your breath hitched. His grip on your hands tightened, as if silently promising you that this moment, this love, was real.

And then,

"You may kiss the bride."

Reo wasted no time. He cupped your face, pulling you into a kiss that made the crowd erupt in cheers. It was deep, full of love and possession, the kind of kiss that left no doubts, you were his, and he was yours, forever.

Reo tightened his hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he exhaled softly. The warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, it was the kind of comfort that felt eternal.

"Do you think we’ll always be like this?" you murmured, nestled against Reo’s side.

"You’re thinking too much again," he murmured, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm.

You sighed. "I just… I see it happen all the time. People who were so in love, who thought they'd be together forever, and then one day, " You hesitated, voice barely above a whisper. "They’re strangers."

Reo was quiet for a moment, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "That won’t be us," he said with certainty.

"But how do you know?"

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his violet eyes searching yours, serious yet full of warmth. "Because I don’t love you out of convenience. Or because it’s easy. I love you because you’re you. That’s never gonna change."

You bit your lip, still uncertain. "But what if, "

"No what-ifs," he cut you off gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "If something’s wrong, we fix it. If we change, we change together. And if you ever feel like we’re slipping, tell me, and I’ll fight like hell to bring us back."

You stared at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, at the unwavering confidence in his voice.

"I mean, come on," he smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "You think I went through all the trouble of throwing the wedding of the century just to lose you later? Not a chance."

A small laugh escaped your lips, and Reo grinned, pulling you close again.

"Fifty years from now," he whispered against your hair, "I’ll still be here, spoiling you, annoying you, loving you. Just like this."

You closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat.

"I hope so," you murmured.

Reo kissed your forehead. "I know so."

—

It was dumb. A stupid, pointless argument that shouldn’t have escalated the way it did, but somehow, it was on the verge of ruining everything.

"Stop it, Y/n," Reo’s voice cracked with frustration, his words heavy with helplessness. "I don’t know what else I can do to make you not feel like this. You don’t think it kills me, seeing you like this?"

You couldn’t hold back the tears, the fear flooding your chest. The truth was, you needed him. Needed him there with you. But all he seemed to care about was soccer.

You had been feeling off for weeks, random fevers, migraines, throwing up without any explanation. You’d made an appointment to go see the doctor. You even made sure to pick a day Reo could go with you, not wanting to face the possibility of bad news alone. However, his flight overseas for soccer got pushed up early due to weather issues next week, so they needed his team to leave today.

That meant going to your appointment alone. The thought of not having Reo by your side while you waited for results terrified you. Especially considering your family’s history with a particular illness, one that usually showed up around this age.

"I asked you to come with me," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady. "I thought we agreed, you said you’d be there."

Reo ran a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration. "This is important to me, Y/n," he said, voice strained.

"I know, but this is important to me too!" You wiped your face, trying to keep your composure. "Can’t you just change your flight? A few hours later, Reo, just a few hours!"

He let out a frustrated sigh. "We’re on a strict schedule. You know how this works."

"Strict schedule my ass!" You couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out, your voice shaking. "You can’t tell me you can’t make one small change for me."

"My flight is eleven hours before your appointment," Reo said, his words clipped, defensive.

Your chest tightened, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. "I feel like you don’t care about me anymore," you whispered.

"That’s not true," he said coldly, the words stinging.

The air felt thick, suffocating. You choked on a sob, a tear slipping down your cheek. "You promised you’d never put soccer above me."

"I’m not putting soccer above you," Reo said, though there was an edge to his voice, his frustration mixing with something else.

"It feels like you are," you sobbed, the weight of his absence feeling heavier than you could bear. "And it hurts, Reo. It really hurts."

"I’m doing my best here, Y/n," he said, exasperated. "And if you can’t see that, then fine. I’m not dealing with this." His voice cracked as he grabbed his bag, heading for the door. "Whatever happened to you saying you’d support me no matter what?"

"I do support you!" You pleaded, but the words felt hollow.

"Really? Because it feels like you’re distracting me more than anything." His words hit like a punch to the gut. And with that, he was gone. It was his league’s club season which meant he’d be gone for nine to eleven months.

You stood there, numb, as the door slammed behind him, leaving you in the deafening silence.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty house. Reo was gone. And the weight of everything, everything that had just been shattered, was unbearable.

You made it through the morning, each task more difficult than the last. You got out of bed alone, ate breakfast alone, and somehow made it to the car alone. The drive to the doctor’s office felt like a blur, the world moving at a crawl, and yet it was all so quiet. When you arrived, you didn’t speak to anyone. They ran a series of tests and took your blood, checking for the disease you were so scared of, ruling it out with an ease that only made your heart ache more.

Then, the doctor came in, a clipboard in hand, his expression serious but gentle.

“Mrs. Mikage, we know the reason for your recent sickness,” he said, his words almost robotic. “You’re pregnant.”

“Oh,” was all you could manage to say, your breath catching in your throat as the weight of those words pressed down on you like a ton of bricks.

They explained everything, sent you to an OBGYN, scheduled follow-ups, and reassured you that your tests for everything else had come back negative. But it all felt like a distant hum, like none of it was really registering.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice weak as you gathered your things and left the office, your body moving in a haze.

The drive home was eerily silent. It was as if the world around you had muted itself. No honking cars, no chirping birds, just a heavy, suffocating quiet that matched the storm in your chest.

You were pregnant. Alone. And your husband, your husband who you hadn’t spoken to in days, was halfway around the world, caught up in a life that felt impossibly distant from the one you were trying to hold onto. And after the fight you’d just had… you didn’t even know how to fix it.

You didn’t want to tell him. You didn’t want to tell anyone. Not yet. So, you kept it to yourself. Every doctor’s appointment, every milestone, every piece of baby gear you bought, was done in solitude. You didn’t even tell your family.

But Reo didn’t leave you completely alone. His texts came every day, sometimes multiple times a day, each one a little more desperate, a little more unsure. But you wanted to give him his space, his time to let him focus on his passion. You didn’t want to be a distraction, his words echoing in your mind each time you almost caved and texted him back.

I wanted to ask on call, but you haven’t been answering. Are you… are you leaving me? His message came in late one night, his uncertainty clear in every word.

You stared at the screen for a long time before finally responding.

I just think we need some space, you typed, your fingers trembling as you hit send.

Oh. That was all he replied with.

That was it. No questions, no follow-up. Just the deafening silence that followed.

A few days later, your mother called. She hadn’t heard from you in weeks, and the concern in her voice was clear.

“Y/n, come over sometime,” she said, her tone warm and inviting. “We haven’t seen you in so long.”

You hesitated for a moment, but then it all came spilling out.

“Mom, I… I have something to tell you.”

“Yes, honey?”

You took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that had begun to form. “I’m pregnant. I’ve been for a while. A few months now, actually. And I haven’t told anyone. Not even Reo. We haven’t been talking. I’ve been ignoring all his calls and texts.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Y/n…” your mother’s voice was soft but filled with concern.

“I feel so dumb. I don’t know why I’m doing this all alone.”

“Y/n, you haven’t talked to Reo in months?”

“No,” you sniffled, your heart aching. “I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Oh, honey,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “I’m coming over.”

“Okay. But… don’t tell anyone. Please.” The words came out between sobs. You didn’t want the world to know, not yet.

Your mother sighed, and then her voice was steady, gentle. “You’re going to have to tell Reo eventually, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you whispered, feeling the weight of those words hang in the air. "I just… don’t know how."

—

I’m coming home.

The message from Reo pinged through the silence, a message you’d seen but refused to open. A string of missed calls followed, each one a knot in your stomach, each text begging for a response that you weren’t ready to give.

When he walked through the door, he wasn’t expecting you to be there. But there you were, standing at the threshold of the living room, waiting for him.

“You’re still here?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

“Yeah.” You barely breathed the word, your eyes downcast, not sure what to expect or how to say what you had to.

“You didn’t answer my calls or texts,” he said, his voice thick with hurt.

“Yeah,” you replied again, your heart sinking with the weight of it all.

“That hurt,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, the words barely escaping past the lump in your throat.

“Don’t ever do that again.” Tears welled in his eyes as he pulled you into a tight, almost desperate hug, holding you close as if afraid you might slip away again.

“Why?” he sobbed, his breath shaking against your neck.

You closed your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts as the words poured out. “I was… I would’ve called you sooner, but the hormones made me even angrier at you. And I knew if I called, I would’ve said things I didn’t mean. We were already in a bad place. I didn’t want to do anything to make it worse, so I just paused.”

He pulled back slightly, his face pale, eyes wide. “Baby, no. Nothing could ever make me feel that way.” His voice softened with regret. “You ignoring me made it worse.”

You started to cry, the tears coming freely now. You couldn’t stop them. You couldn’t stop thinking about how he saw you, how he thought you were a distraction before, and now… Now, knowing the truth, he’d think even worse. He would have to take care of you, and the child he didn’t know about.

“I just wanted to give you all the time you needed for soccer,” you choked out, your voice breaking with the weight of it. “I didn’t want to be a distraction…”

Reo searched your eyes, his hands cupping your face as if trying to will the truth into his heart. “That’s what this is about?” He shook his head, his expression filled with remorse. “I never should’ve said that. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. You could never be a distraction. Never ever.”

“I’m sorry, Reo. I’m so sorry,” you cried, your sobs shaking your body.

He held you tighter, trying to reassure you as his voice softened. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.”

“No.” You sniffled, wiping your face with your sleeve. “It’s not just about that, I—”

But your baby’s cries cut you off. The sound sliced through the room like a knife, pulling your attention away from the conversation. Reo furrowed his brows, sensing the sudden shift, and followed you as you rushed towards the nursery.

You turned, cradling your baby in your arms, the tiny body so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. The tufts of hair, the tiny eyes, it was all him.

Reo stood frozen in the doorway, his voice trembling as he said your name.

“Y/n?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m sorry, I found out after you left.” Your heart shattered, knowing that this moment should’ve been shared, should’ve been a partnership. But it wasn’t. It had been a solitary experience.

“What?” His voice cracked as the realization dawned. “What are you apologizing for? This is…” He trailed off, his emotions overwhelming him as he stepped forward, his eyes never leaving the baby in your arms. “She’s ours?”

You nodded, your throat tight as you held her close.

“She’s beautiful.” Reo cried as he held her in his arms. You had given birth only a month ago, you were tired, exhausted, scared, in pain. You were happy Reo was back. You knew you had problems to fix but at least you were together again. You’d get through it, you made a vow to.

“Oh god…” Reo whispered, his hand reaching out as if to touch the tiny face, his tears falling freely now. “You were pregnant all alone?” His voice cracked again, as if the idea of you going through this by yourself was too much to bear.

You tried to choke back the sobs, your hand trembling as you held your baby to your chest. “I didn’t want to be a bother.”

Reo collapsed to his knees in front of you, his face crumpling with regret and heartache. “Oh, baby, no… no, no, no,” he cried, his arms wrapping around you and the baby as he pulled you into him. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to do this alone. I should’ve been there. I should’ve been here for you. For both of you.”

His heart ached as he imagined you going through this, carrying your child, facing it all on your own. It broke him to think about how long he’d been absent, too wrapped up in his own world. Now, he had a chance to make it right, to be the partner you needed.

And he would.

#reo mikage #blue lock reo #reo x reader #mikage reo #reo mikage x reader #bllk reo #reo x you #reo x y/n #reo mikage x you #mikage reo x reader #mikage x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk

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metalandmagi · 3 months ago

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The Real Anime Awards of 2024 (part 2)

Ever since Crunchyroll started doing their Anime Awards, I've made it my personal mission to make my own awards that represent the actual year in anime!

I already posted my silly awards list (with the truly important categories such as: prettiest boy and biggest trainwreck) so here are my serious picks. Don't take anything too seriously. These are just something fun I like to do every year. I can't watch everything.

Anime Of The Year

Dungeon Meshi

Dandadan

Go Go Loser Ranger

Orb: On the Movements of the Earth

Re: Zero (season 3)

Ranma ½

Best Comedy

Mayonaka Punch

Konosuba (season 3)

My Deer Friend Nokotan

Ranma 1/2

VTuber Legend: How I Went Viral After Forgetting to Turn Off My Stream

Acro Trip

Best Drama

Jellyfish Can’t Swim In The Night

Senpai wa Otokonoko

Dead Dead Demons Dededede Destruction

Girls Band Cry

Orb: On the Movements of the Earth

If My Wife Becomes An Elementary School Student

Best Romance

A Sign Of Affection

Blue Box

Cherry Magic- I’m not typing the full title

Kimi ni Todoke (From Me To You) (season 3)

Tasogare Out of Focus

365 Days to the Wedding

Best Slice Of Life

Mr. Villain’s Day Off

Welcome Home (Tadaima, Okaeri)

The Yōkai Next to Me

Natsume Yuujinchou Shichi

Negaposi Angler

Dungeon People

Honorable Mention: The Magical Girl And The Evil Lieutenant Used To Be Arch Enemies

Best Action

Wind Breaker

Bleach Thousand Year Blood War (part 3)

Brave Bang Bravern

Bucchigiri?!

Kaiju No. 8

Dragon Ball Daima

Honorable mention: Viral Hit

Best Fantasy

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End cour 2

Dungeon Meshi

Re: Zero (season 3)

Spice And Wolf

Isekai Suicide Squad

Dandadan...more of a sci-fi than fantasy but oh well...

Best Boy

Asamine Matakara (Bucchigiri?!)

Yuichi Kurosawa (Cherry Magic)

Buchio (The Yokai Next To Me)

Shion Yoshino (Tasogare Out Of Focus)

Natsume Takashi (Natsume Yuujinchou Shichi)

Keisuke Niijima (If My Wife Becomes An Elementary School Student)

Honorable Mention: Nukumizu (Too Many Losing Heroines)...this poor guy deserves some love but everyone else edged him out just a little bit 😅

Best Protagonist

Sakuna (Sakuna: Of Rice And Rain)

Masaki (Mayonaka Punch)

Fighter D (Go Go Loser Ranger)

Hibino Kafka (Kaiju No. 8)

Ciel Phantomhive (Black Butler Public School Arc)

Lawrence Kraft (Spice And Wolf)

Honorable mention: Mao Mao (Apothecary Diaries cour 2)...I love her so much but I already nominated her last year so I felt like it wasn't fair to do her twice

Best Antagonist

Sirius Romanée-Conti: Sin Archbishop of Wrath (Re: Zero season 3)- There are 3 great villains this season, but I could only pick one to represent and Wrath was my favorite 😅

Red Keeper (Go Go Loser Ranger)

Mika Hanaoka (Senpai wa Otokonoko)

Melon (Beastars Final Season cour 1)

Nowak (Orb: On the Movements of the Earth)

Chika Shiraishi (If My Wife Becomes An Elementary School Student) I know she’s only an antagonist at the beginning of the show, but dang, she’s a good one.

Best Girl

Holo (Spice And Wolf)

Marcille (Dungeon Meshi)

Sawako Kuronuma (Kimi ni Todoke season 3)

Harley Quinn (Isekai Suicide Squad)

Koshi Torako (My Deer Friend Nokotan)

Hina Chouno (Blue Box)

Best Supporting Character

Senshi (Dungeon Meshi)

“Youko Satou” (The Fable)

Kouji Shigemoto (Magilumiere Magical Girls Inc.)

Peeps (Sasaki and Peeps)

Chrome (Acro Trip)

Nyanko Sensei (Natsume Yuujinchou Shichi)

Best Character Design

Delico’s Nursery

Oshi no Ko (season 2)

Isekai Suicide Squad

Dungeon Meshi

Beastars Final Season cour 1

Ranma 1/2

Best Score

Girls Band Cry

Spice and Wolf

Natsume Yuujinchou Shichi

Kaiju No. 8

Jellyfish Can’t Swim in the Night

Bleach Thousand Year Blood War (part 3)- I will keep nominating it every year until it wins the actual award!

Honorable mentions: Orb: On the Movements of the Earth

Best Animation

Oblivion Battery

The Elusive Samurai

Blue Box

Beastars Final Season cour 1

Too Many Losing Heroines

The Stories of Girls Who Couldn't Be Magicians

Honorable mention: Shoushimin Series (I guess I’d categorize this as “most cinematic” over “best animation”), also Wind Breaker's animation deserves a shout out too.

Best OP

(BASED ON BOTH SONG AND VISUALS! so, sorry Viral Hit and The Fable...)

Dandadan (“Otonoke” Creepy Nuts)

Go Go Loser Ranger (“Preview of Me” Tatsuya Kitani)

Beastars Final Season cour 1 (“Into The World” issei)

You Are Ms. Servant (“Otozure” tricot)

Orb: On the Movements of the Earth (“Kaiju” Sakanaction)

Tower of God season 2 OP 1 (“Rise Up” NiziU)

Honorable mentions: *This is the hardest category every year for me, so I just have to shout out some others*

Yuru Camp season 3 (“Laid Back Journey” Kiminone)

Oshi no Ko season 2 (“Fatal” GEMN)

Wind Breaker (“Absolute Zero” Natori)

Mashle season 2 (“Bling-Bang-Bang-Born” Creepy Nuts)

Best ED

Isekai Suicide Squad (“Go Getters” Mori Calliope)

Brave Bang Bravern (“Sounen no Shouzu” Ryota Suzuki and Yohei Azakami) There was no way in hell I was leaving this off the list. If you watch no other anime endings this year, please watch this one 😆

Go Go Loser Ranger (“Sekai wa Iranei” NANAOAKARI)

Ranma ½ (“Antanante” riria)

Frieren Beyond Journey’s End cour 2 (“Anytime Anywhere” Milet)

Too Many Losing Heroines ed 2 (“Crazy For You” Shion Wakayama) *I love the other 2 endings as well, but I could only choose one*😭

Best Japanese VA Performance

*I'm terrible with this category. I really don't know how to judge good voice acting performances at all*

Hasegawa, Ikumi as Masaki (Mayonaka Punch)

Ueda, Hitomi as Yoshino (Yakuza Fiancé)

Seki, Toshihiko as Muzan Kibutsuji (Demon Slayer Hashira Training Arc)...This arc may have sucked, but he acted the shit out of it.

Inoue, Kazuhiko as Nyanko Sensei (Natsume Yuujinchou shichi)

Nagase, Anna as Harley Quinn (Isekai Suicide Squad)

Fujita, Saki as Koshi Torako (My Deer Friend Nokotan)

*I don't watch enough dubs to do nominations for English voice actors, but I want to shout out SungWon Cho as Senshi from Dungeon Meshi and Abby Trott as Ayase from Dandadan. They understood the assignment.*

So there you have it! My picks for the real anime awards of 2024! Don't take this seriously at all, it's just something fun I like to put together every year. I always try not to nominate the same things, but it's so hard to include a variety sometimes! 😅

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