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earthtooz · 10 months

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x : LOVIN' YOU RIGHT :*+ﾟ all of me i'm offering, show you what devotion is !

in which: reo keeps chasing after you because the one thing he knows how to do is love you right.

warnings: 2.2k words, FLUFF, gn!reader, reo is an athlete, post-argument fic inspired by jungkook's 'seven' mv, mentions of food, pet names used by reader and reo, reo is a little bit of a flirt and a lot in love and pathetic bc that's how we like our men!

a/n: I LOVE REO

“what are you doing here?”

reo looks at the direction of your voice, eyes widening in surprise upon seeing you. there are grocery bags in your hands, you’re wearing the sweater you always wear when running errands, and you’re looking at him like he’s a fly that’s invaded your home, annoyance and exasperation seeping right off you. despite it, his heart flutters alive and reo feels like he can finally breathe after the few days you spent ignoring him.

“y/n!” he exclaims, a smile making its way onto his face. “hi baby, i’ve missed you!”

just as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, you swerve aside smoothly, causing the purple-haired’s smile to drop.

“y/n? what was that for?” you don’t answer him, instead slipping past his figure to stand in front of your door, perhaps pressing a little too close for it to be normal, but reo keeps quiet about it. “at least let me help you with your groceries, you can’t unlock a door with both hands-”

“don’t.” you command, struggling with getting your keys out. “why are you here?”

“wh-what do you mean? i haven’t seen you in three days and i missed you so i came to visit,” he pouts. “did you not miss me?”

your eye twitches. “i’m still mad at you,” you finally unlock your door, pushing it open and closing it before reo could come in.

however, that plan is much easier said than done because your boyfriend has better reflexes and is considerably faster than you, so he jams his shoe in between the doorway before you could close it. he makes no move to push it open though.

“i’m sorry!” he calls out guiltily and he hopes his words reach you through the thin space. “you know i am, i didn’t mean to upset you, and i came to talk it out and make it up to you!”

you peek through the gap, looking reo in the eye. “as much as i appreciate your apology reo, there’s no point in letting you in, i need to go run some errands soon so why don’t you leave and come back later when we can talk.”

“then can i come with you?”

“why? you’re just going to be bored following me around.”

“i’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you allowed me.”

the silence is deafening, utterly suffocating as reo awaits for a response. he has never wanted to kick down a door so badly in his life because if you spend another millisecond not speaking to him then he might lose his mind, he’d rather die than have you shut him out.

thankfully, you open up the gap just a little more, allowing him to see more of you, but you don’t meet his eye, looking to the side bashfully instead. “fine, but i’m still mad at you, so don’t get any ideas.”

heaven is on his side, reo decides as he fails miserably at hiding his smile.

“you wait outside though, i’ll be out in a bit.”

“wait, can’t i help you put your groceries away?”

“you don’t even know how to do it properly.”

“i’ll learn for you.”

“another time.”

reo retracts his foot and you close the door with a gentle click, the sight of you being replaced with a wooden plank souring his mood significantly. better than you slamming the door in his face, he supposes, but nevertheless, the purple-haired sighs, moping in front of your door like it was his birthright.

he only broods for a few minutes maximum because soon enough, he’s reunited with you, trailing behind you like a second shadow as you both make your way through your neighbourhood. the excitement that reo feels practically tangible, leaving a trail of undying devotion, powered by the love he feels for you.

the walk is quiet, filled by sounds of passing cars, birds chirping, and people strolling by that stare a little too long at the purple-haired, either subtly admiring him or wondering why he seemed so familiar. you’re acutely aware of the stares and how strange the sight must be to them. world-class soccer player and multimillionaire trailing behind a nobody as if it was just another day, how unfathomable.

you wonder if reo gets tired of it.

“what are you doing today?” your boyfriend asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“i need to drop by the bank first of all, then i have some things to return, and then i need to buy some new headphones because mine broke.”

“oh, good to know!”

“reo, i swear, don’t even get the idea about paying for any of it. use your credit card today and i will personally-”

“-okay, okay!” he jokes, defensively putting up his hands. “i won’t.”

“promise?”

“promise.”

you narrow your eyes at him in suspicion, very clearly not believing him before continuing your journey. you know your boyfriend better than anyone and if it’s one thing he’s stubborn with, it’s never letting you pay, but you’re determined and reo is plotting the many ways to break his promise.

the first method is dropped in front of him like a divine gift, which took shape through a flower stall in front of the mall you planned on going to. reo is a man of taking his chances whenever he sees it. grabbing your hand to stop you from walking any further, reo doesn’t explain his intentions as he wordlessly drags you to the quaint store that had set itself up.

“reo, no-”

“-this one, please,” reo demands as he hands the bouquet of his choice to the store owner, keeping you in a tight grip before you could run away.

“reo!”

“that’ll be 7700 yen.”

“that’s too much! reo, stop it! i told you you couldn’t use your credit card today!”

from his pocket, reo fishes out a crisp ‘10000’ bill, dropping it on the platter for cash before speed walking away with the bouquet. “thank you very much, no need for change!”

the protests of the store attendant fades in the background and reo turns to you with a boyish smile, pushing the bouquet into your arms as if you hadn’t witnessed everything that just happened.

“reo,” you murmur, resolve crumbling as the beautiful arrangement shines up at you and it doesn’t help that your (very charming) boyfriend is looking at you with a pleading look in his eyes, practically begging for you to accept. “i told you not to buy anything-”

“-with my card! you never said anything about cash.”

“that’s not the point- oh my goodness,” you pinch the bridge of your nose whilst shaking your head, but you quickly admit defeat when a small giggle slips through your lips.

glancing back up at him, there’s scorn in your eyes but it’s easily contrasted by the gentle smile that dances along your lips. reo feels a warmth spread in his chest, as if he had swallowed the sun and made itself home beside his heart, the same one that begins to race at the sight of you laughing. he is so pathetically devoted to you that it makes him stupid, but he’d buy all the flowers in the world if it will make you smile at him like this.

“you’re so silly, reo,” taking the bouquet from his relaxed grip, you hug it close to your chest. “thank you though, i love them.”

“i love you,” slips past his lips before he can think.

“ever the smoothtalker, aren’t you?”

you walk away without another word, causing reo to chase after you. “wait, why aren’t you saying it back?”

“still mad.”

reo shuts his mouth, complaints dying on his tongue as he continues following you through the mall. slowly but surely, you make your way through your list of things to do, with the world-class athlete silently losing his mind more and more with each second that you weren’t giving him attention. he needs to plot more ways that would break your resolve, and fast.

his opportunity comes up when the two of you pass by a bakery that catches your eye, your gaze to lingering a little too long on the display of baked goods for reo not to notice. without a second thought, he drags you in with him, your immediate complaints falling on deaf ears.

“i don’t want anything!” you hiss, trying to keep loyal your stubbornness despite the enchanting smell of baked goods wafting through the air.

“too bad, either you tell me what you want or i’m buying out the whole store,” reo promises, eyes alight with determination.

“i want to go home.”

“aren’t you hungry?”

“there’s food at home, i don’t want to waste any unnecessary money.”

“it’s not wasting if it’s spent on you, though,” he reasons before ordering the baked goods that he knows you will like, and once again, paying for it with cash.

“if you’re trying to get me to forgive you by spending your money then forget it,” you mutter, ripping your hand out of his grasp before walking out of the store.

“y/n-” reo begins, cutting himself off as he waits impatiently for his order to get finished packing; not that it takes long before he leaves the store with a branded paper bag in hand, filled with perhaps multiple boxes of baked goods as dashes out to the entrance, prepared to chase after you.

except he doesn’t need to, because you’re standing outside patiently waiting for him, the bouquet of flowers still snug in your arms. its beauty could never compare to yours, reo thinks offhandedly as he approaches you like a magnet.

“i thought me walking out would deter you,” you murmur, eyeing the bag in his hand. “should’ve known that it wouldn’t work.”

reo grins, partly out of adoration, mostly because he’s just glad you didn’t actually leave him behind, not that you ever would or could do such a thing.

“you treat me too well, don’t you think?” you hug the flowers closer to your chest.

“what? where did that come from?”

you shrug, not meeting his eyes. “i don’t know, you’re just too good for me sometimes. aren’t you tired?”

a crack resonates through his heart, causing a few pieces to crumble and shatter on the ground. “how could you ever think that?” he says in a panic. “do i need to give you more flowers? i need to call to make you an arrangement soon, i’m so inconsiderate! we can go out next week, i’ll clear my sche-”

two hands are placed of either side of his face and the words die on reo’s tongue. you look at him with a look of fondness that almost makes him cry and fall to his knees. “-i’m sorry, i don’t know where that came from. i just think i got really lucky having someone like you in my life.”

reo wants to say that its reverse, that he’s the one who landed in a pot of fortune and came out with someone as kind and beautiful as you, but he’ll find the words some other day because he wants to kiss you, badly.

finally, you say, “thank you love, i appreciate your gifts.”

he beams and falls harder in love than he already was.

by the time the two of you arrive at your apartment, the sun is beginning to dip belong the horizon and you hold a lot more goods than anticipated, your boyfriend being the one to blame for most of them.

“are you gonna call someone to drive you home?” you ask, stopping in front of your door.

reo frowns, “i guess i could do that.”

he makes no move for his phone and his pout is a strong indication of what he truly wants. you’ve always been good at reading reo but you’ve never been good at resisting his wishes, so it’s with a faked sigh that you give in.

“fine,” you hold out your hand for him to take and he very happily complies, beaming with a hope so bright that it blinds you. “want to stay the night?”

he almost drops to one knee but doesn’t get the time to because you’re unlocking your door. this time, you’re leaving it open and reo storms in like its his birth right (which it could be. he thinks he was put on this earth to love you and being welcomed in to your apartment might as well be another declaration of love.)

its refreshing to be in your space once more, to bathe in your presence and be welcomed in instead of shut out. as much as you may scorn him, reo’s only place in the universe is beside you, and he’ll take whatever you give so long as it’s you he gets to see at the end of the day.

“reo!” you call out from the kitchen, disrupting his thoughts. “should we have some of those cakes you bought earlier?”

“yeah, i’m coming!” shouts reo, happy, content, and grateful that you will let him love you, because he’s the only one that could do it right.

#i like this for once :>#reo mikage x reader #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #reo mikage #mikage reo #reo fluff #reo x reader fluff #blue lock

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frownyalfred · 4 months

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Bruce giving all his kids little forehead kisses when they sleep or when he's to sleep-deprived to realize he has gone on the tip of his toes to kiss Clark's forhead too and is now attempting to kiss Alfred's forehead

Bruce pressed a brief kiss to Dick’s forehead, stepping away from the medbay cot.

Alfred watched, bemused, as Bruce — more sleep deprivation than man, currently — rocked up onto the tops of his toes and did the same to Clark, who was perched by the doorway.

Jason — Clark’s height, and easily mistakable for the Kryptonian when one barely had their eyes open — cleared his throat awkwardly.

Bruce’s eyes cracked open. He slowly looked between Jason and Clark, who was staring at the floor with color rising in his cheeks.

“Hn.”

Alfred closed his eyes, accepting his fate with a shocked inhale. Bruce’s lips grazed his forehead, a there-and-gone blessing.

Three days of sleep deprivation and an injured child were enough to drive most men to madness and despair.

Bruce, it seemed, had been pushed to the worst of cliff edges — open displays of physical affection.

#micro fic #mini fic #I should make this a full fic #but my hangover brain is dead #just like Bruce’s #bruce wayne #batman #dc #myfic #theresurrectionist #asks #batfamily #clark kent #superbat #anon

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jongseongsnudes · 1 day

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kiss me (part three)

bff/fwb!jake. 1.4k words. ✨️smut✨️ + angst ft. lee heeseung. (part one) (part two)

“you’re so hot,” you hear him mumble into the kiss, his lips barely leaving yours as he does. his hands are everywhere, your waist, your ass, your thighs. the man was desperate for you and to be fair, you wanted him too.

what started as a few flirty kisses with heeseung and a childish way to show jake that you in fact did not need him, turned into a full fledged heated make out session in the back of the cab, all the way into your apartment. it was the last thing you wanted yet all you wanted at the same time. someone to distract you from a particular someone else.

you were too occupied with heeseung’s lips to notice the familiar pair of men’s shoes by your door once you enter your home, ones that were surely not there when you left.

jake sim was in your apartment.

“hey- h- heeseung,” you manage to get his attention, your hand now gently pushing against his chest, “i um- i remember i had some plans tonight actually... rain check?”

you can see the disappointment wash over his face for a split second before smiling again, an understanding smile. and this was one of the many things you’ve always liked about him lee heeseung. that he respected you.

“yeah of course love,” he says while rubbing your lower back, “you need me to drop you off anywhere? it’s getting pretty late.”

“no my friend will pick me up. sorry hee, another time?”

“definitely,” he leans in to kiss you, short and sweet, “be careful okay.”

you begin to second guess your decision to abruptly kick heeseung out but the last thing you wanted was to be in the middle of a confrontation between the two best friends right now. besides, you needed to deal with jake. the thought of him currently somewhere in your apartment got you mad, especially after the fight you had earlier.

the house is quiet, the only light source coming from your living room’s television screen, exactly where you expected him to be with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. you can feel your chest heave to the sight of a topless jake, it took almost everything in you not to pull your panties aside and climb on that lap.

the things you’d do for jake sim...

“seriously? you’re just going to break into my apartment?”

your words are left unanswered as the man continues watching the screen ahead as if you weren’t standing right in front of him.

“whatever then. at least close the door on your way out when you get bored.”

you leave him be, no longer wanting to deal with the toxic situation that shouldn’t have been a situation in the first place.

bits and pieces of your clothing and accessories are scattered behind as you make it to the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to sink into a warm bath and relax for the night. but of course the world always seems to have other plans for you.

“didn’t think you had it in you.”

sigh.

you don’t bother turning around to his newly arrived presence at the bathroom doorway, instead opting to continue slipping out of your undergarments as if he wasn’t even there, “i don’t want to talk to you right now jake.”

“so you let heeseung put his tongue down your throat but can’t even talk to me?”

you were quick to whip around this time, a frown dawning your face at how ridiculous he was being. the audacity this man had to even speak to you that way, in your home after ignoring you just a moment before.

“excuse me?” you were on the brink of exploding now, your hand balled up and ready to throw him out if you had to, “you broke into my house for what? to say these things to me?”

“well i’m not wrong! why bother fucking with me then go straight to heeseung?” he was now right up against you, his much taller frame towering over yours, gradually cornering you in against the vanity, “he’s my fucking best friend!”

you’ve seen jake angry numerous times before but never have you seen him like this. he is evidently fuming with eyes so dark, even his breathing was ragged.

“so that’s your problem? so you’re saying that i can fuck anyone else besides your best friend? easy. i’m sure sunghoon or jay would be down if i was to call them right now.”

if jake was considered stubborn, well, you were even worse. between you and the man, you were the one who always got your way. to be fair he did have a soft spot for you and you’ve used this to your advantage... when necessary.

the bathroom then goes eerily quiet, the two of you though still visibly angry, are now much calmer than before. the heavy tension that filled the air just a moment before was now slowly turning into a different kind of tension.

the one you always felt when you both wanted each other.

“i’m tired jake... please just go-”

he leans in without hesitation, kissing you hard and cutting off your words. he even cups your cheeks, angling your face up to him so he can deepen the kiss and you let him. by now you weren’t even fighting him anymore, your entire body melting right into his hold.

as always.

you did’t want to admit it but this kiss with jake sim was the one you’ve been yearning for all night, even when kissing someone else.

you were just crazy for him.

“it’s not them, it’s you...” he whispers, his voice barely audible as he pulls away slightly, “you’re my problem.”

“what- what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t want to see you with anyone else.”

before you could even respond, jake slowly moves down your body, his lips leaving behind a trail of soft kisses on your skin. you almost scream when he reaches your panties, the man’s mouth just hovering over it for a few moments. just to drive you insane.

“you’re perfect you know?” he coos, his hands now grasping onto your waist as yours grab onto the vanity for support.

“you say that sim... but then turn around and say the same to other girls...”

“they’re nothing baby. i’ve always wanted you.”

your breath hitches when he yanks your panties aside and lifts one of your legs over his shoulders, his lips immediately pressing onto your clit without warning, eager to have you. his wet tongue laps at your heat, tasting every part of you, causing your knees to almost buckle at the intense pleasure your whole body immediately feels from it.

you watch him through hooded eyes, the view of jake sim kneeling before you, one that always pushed you over the edge, that had you seeing white. that had you going completely feral.

but despite the moment, with his tongue deep in your folds and with your fingers knotted in his hair, you just couldn’t forget all that happened tonight.

what should’ve been a strictly no strings attached situation had become something it shouldn’t have. it all somehow spiralled out of control so quickly, like the flame in your heart that grew to the point of no return for the man.

and from what you’ve learned from romance movies your whole life... this was not going to end well. especially for you.

“ja- jake...” you barely manage to push him back by the shoulders, stopping the man from doing what those lips were literally born to do. he looks at you with concern as he stands to his feet, arms immediately holding your sides to pull you closer.

“what’s wrong baby?”

you may regret this later but you knew it was the right thing to do... before you fall even further.

“i don’t want to do this anymore jake. lets... stop.”

end(????)

2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

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niqhtlord01 · 9 months

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Humans are weird: Minecraft

Alien: What is the point of this game? Human: It doesn’t have one; you can do whatever you want. Alien: Can I burn this world and leave nothing but ash? Human: Disturbingly specific but go ahead.

------------

Alien: How do I get wood? Human: Punch some trees. Alien: ……….. Alien: Punch some trees. Human: Yup. Alien: Are you mocking me? Human: What? Alien: Do you think I’m some sort of joke? Alien: An object of ridicule for your amusement!? Human: Okay, before you over react let me just show you. Alien: *Starts reaching for sword when they see the human literally start punching trees for wood* Alien: Oh. *Puts sword away* My apologies. -------------

Human: Why aren’t you playing? Alien: There is a monster in my home. Human: Is it an ender man? Alien: No. Human: Skeleton? Alien: No. Human: Creeper? Alien: Nope. Human: ………… Human: Zombie? Alien: Thwarp no. Human: *Takes controller and goes inside the house* What could it possibly be- *Sees creature* Human: That is a pig. Alien: It is the stuff of nightmares. Human: What the hell is scary about a pig? Alien: Look into its eyes. Alien: It has no soul; no remorse. ----------------

Alien: What are you making? Human: A doomsday device. Alien: Are you allowed to build that on a public server? Alien: Surely the admins would seek to stop you. Human: They can’t stop it if they can’t find it. Alien: What did you build? Human: I placed a claim block, fifty blocks down, and started a cow farm. Alien: That doesn’t sound so bad. Human: There are currently five hundred cows in a four block pen. Human: I have seen the amount of lag it generates drive men to madness. Alien: You are the worst of your species. ---------------

Alien: How goes it? Human: I’ve created a massive creeper farm. Alien: Dear gods why?!?! Human: I want to see what happens when one of them is hit by lightning. Alien: Why? Human: I heard that it turns them into a super creeper. Alien: Why would you want to make the sentient explosive even deadlier? Human: To leave as a surprise for that griefer who blew up my chicken farm last week. Alien: Ah. ----------------

Alien: What are you building today? Human: A nether portal Alien: Is that the purple doorway thing in front of you? Human: Yup. Alien: What does it do? Human: It’s a portal to this world’s version of hell. Alien: WHAT?! Alien: Is that not dangerous? Human: I mean, I want glow stone for my city; and the only place to get glow stone is in the nether. Alien: I weep for this world that has you as its caretaker. ---------------

Alien: Why is all the sand from my beach gone? Human: Needed it. Alien: For what? Human: Copious amounts of TNT. Alien: Do I even want to know why? Human: Remember that village that I defended only for the golem to attack me? Alien: Yeah. Human: Good. Human: Because that memory of yours is all that is left of it. -----------

*stumbling down extensive mine network to find human friend deep underground.* Alien: You ever coming topside again? Alien: I just found these things called “Pandas” and they are adorable. Human: Not until I find a diamond. Alien: Oh gods, here we go again. Human: There’s only fucking copper down here! Human: What the hell can I even use for copper!?! Alien: I think you can make lightning rods out of them. Human: Oh yeah, sure, lightning rods. Human: I’m sure those will be useful SIXTY BLOCKS UNDERGROUND!!!! ------------

Human: What’s this? Alien: I’ve created an elaborate rail system that will allow me to transfer the citizens of one village to another village to make it a super village! Human: Isn’t that considered kidnapping and human trafficking? Alien: ……….. -------------

Alien: I have created these five iron golems to protect my home. Alien: Nothing shall destroy it while I am away! *Alien leaves into mines* *Returns after an hour of mining to find the entire home destroyed by creepers* Alien: What the flarp! Alien: Where are my go- *Turns to see all five golems distracted by some flowers* -------------

Alien: Something just occurred to me. Human: What’s that? Alien: If you can use the portal to this nether, why can’t things down there use it to escape? Human: Pfft. Human: That’s impossible. Alien: Is it? Human: *Dramatic pause before sprinting over to portal with alien behind him* *Both arrive to find legion of pigmen pouring out from the portal* Alien: Congratulations, you created the end times. Alien: I hope that glow stone was worth it. Human: *draws sword* It really was.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #funny #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #minecraft

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guacamoleroll · 2 months

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ɪᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ · ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ʙꜱᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ༉‧₊˚

featured. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma. content. f!reader. based on a request. mentions of alcohol (dazai), mentions of food, nicknames, slavic dishes. (minor) spoilers for stormbringer. translation at the end. not proofread.

author's note. this was an incredibly fun request! these men either shift between being incompetent, or not being reliant on others, so it took a sweet turn.

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. the kitchen can be many things. a refuge from the toils of everyday life. a workshop for the creation of exquisite tastes. an assemblage of conversation over collaboration.

but one thing is certain—a well-endeavored meal can warm the coldest of hearts.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 arrived home late one evening, tromping through the doorway with the confidence only a drunken man could muster. It had been one of those nights, ones in which he was all too aware of the hollowness of his own heart. One of those days where everything was too loud, the ones where he picked up every minuscule detail, whether he wanted to or not. So, he had taken to a drink or two to fill a void, only to dip into another—before he knew it, the room was spinning, and he found himself kicked out of the bar.

But he still had you to return to, so he gathered any soberness left within him and clambered to place his trench coat and shoes in the spots you had set out for them. He was glad you didn't hear him walk in. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been granted the opportunity to take in the view. You pranced around the kitchen, a lifted twirl in your heel as you stirred ingredients in a saucepan, the domestic mess of powders against your skin.

You were all his. The reason he had a home to return to. His sanctuary from his own mind. He often fretted—though he pretended not to—about the idea of you being taken away from him, a fact that he had come to accept as his reality. But in these simple moments, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you encompassed for a moment longer.

His arms fit snug around your waist, his head like a puzzle piece against the curve of your shoulder. "Is that for me?"

You hummed, pressing a peck on his cheek as you leaned into him.

"You'll always have a meal to return home to, Osamu."

Yeah. He'd indulge for just a little longer.

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 did not expect to pass out. He had returned home from a weeks-long mission overseas, anxiously awaiting the moment you reunited and ran into his arms—only for him to arrive early to an empty home. You were at work, and it wasn't his fault the couch clung to him like a vice! For a moment, he thought he had been dreaming of the fresh smell of savory pasta sauce and spices.

Wait. He can't dream.

He cracked open his eyes, his vision steadily straightening out, and trudged into the kitchen with a befuddled pout, his sight narrowing in on exactly what you had been up to.

"Babe."

"Chuuya!" you yelled, almost losing your grip on your spoon before you managed to catch it, clutching it close to your chest as you twisted the knob on the stove to place the heat at a simmer. "You scared me!"

His arms crossed as he leaned on the doorway. "What're you doing cooking in here by yourself?" he asked sternly, scanning the contents of the pot along with your face. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was mad. But you did know better, catching onto the subtle tilt of his brow, narrowed in simultaneous amusement and disappointment. Cooking was often a partnered endeavor.

You couldn't resist laughter, cupping his cheek as if comforting an upset child. "You've had a long week, and you looked so peaceful lying there. I couldn't bring myself to disturb you."

He would've been quick to argue—you could wake him anytime, no matter the circumstance—but a thought overwhelmed him and kept his mouth at bay. You had done something for him, not with anything to gain, but simply because you cared. He was used to it happening the other way around, but this. . .this felt nice.

So, he relented, his ginger locks tickling your skin as he tucked his face into your neck with a sigh. "Thank you, baby."

𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 had been busy preparing the next phase of his plans, though you supposed he was always busy—too busy to take care of his own basic needs, that was for sure. He was always sorting through different data, exploring multiple angles to achieve his goals.

With the many tasks flooding his brain, he hardly had time to abandon his screens. The skin of his thumb had worn from his subconscious biting habit as he looked over another spreadsheet of banking information, his hands about to slide over the keys yet again.

The scent of stroganoff stirred him from his trance. His eyes shifted to find a steaming plate of the delectable dish sitting next to him on the desk. And he finally registered the firm hand propped against his shoulder, with you looking upon him from above with a sweet but knowing smile.

"Eat."

He wouldn't have customarily taken kindly to such a harsh demand, but he bent to the stern look of your gaze, one that hid behind it a level of care he ravenously craved. You worried for him, not in the same fashion as his so-called "friends," but with the genuine desire to see him thrive, no matter the circumstance.

So, the demon allowed himself a momentary reprieve, kissing a smile into your hand before taking a bite of the dish.

"Delicious, as always, моя милая."

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 had practically burst through the door, prepared to recount the travesties and trials of his day. That was until he caught onto the unmistakable scent of savory pirozhki filling. He followed his nose like a bloodhound, the smell creating a distinct path into the kitchen, where you stood, unaware of the man behind you as you mixed spices into a pan.

"What'cha cooking, dove?" His breath bristled against your ear as he sprung up next to you, using his ability with a shit-eating grin. Your expression mirrored his own, used to the stint of your lover's sudden appearances.

"I found some old Ukrainian recipes online and wanted to try them out." You held out a spoon, and he bit into the filling without a second thought—a mistake. He clutched his throat as his eyes watered, realizing it was too hot for consumption far too late. He finally managed to choke it down, releasing a loud whew!

"Trying to kill me so soon! How cruel!" he exclaimed.

Your laughter roared throughout your home, a shaking hand rubbing his back as you wiped tears from your eyes with the other. "Is it good?"

He brought a finger up to stroke his non-existent beard, humming a quick tune. "Hmm, perhaps a cup of chili powder."

"Коля," you deadpanned. "That's too much."

He sighed, a pout settled on his lips, but you caught the hand sneaking into the interior of his overcoat, snatching his wrist before he poured something irreversible into your dish. He cackled, attempting to pull away as you chased him around the kitchen island.

For a moment, it felt as if you were the only two people in the world—free of restraint. He could feel the bonds tied around him loosen. He could reach out, taste that sensation of freedom for himself. A freedom he had always found in you.

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 had arrived back to his section of the Sky Casino earlier than he expected, having a strange lack of paperwork. But he simply decided to take it as a sign that he had been doing good work, and ignored the anxious feelings that always sprung from not having anything to do.

"I'm home—!" he called, but was stopped in the entryway by a sweet aroma. It was intoxicating, and he couldn't resist the temptation to lurk into the kitchen.

"Welcome home, honey!" you called back, your voice echoing down the hallway. He stripped himself of his coat, leaving it folded on one of the benches before he trekked across the threshold, a curious shift in his furrowed brow.

You were baking cookies, fluffy chocolate-chip cookies. He couldn't resist the smile on his face, even if he wanted to, nor could he ignore the bubbling warmth in his heart. But he couldn't help his confusion.

"Cookies?" he asked, dipping his finger into a batch of dough before he popped it into his mouth. "What's the occasion?"

You swiped at him with a flour-coated hand before dusting the rest of it off on a towel. "You've been busy lately, so I wanted to make you something sweet," you stated as if it were the simplest thing. But those few simple words took him aback.

You cooked for him. No one had ever done that before, not without being an employee or attempting to manipulate him—or both. And in a matter of seconds, only enough to let in a sweep of hot air from the oven to warm his skin, he realized something that had long remained empty had been filled. He felt whole.

"Sigma!" you exclaimed, and he realized that he had tears streaming down his face. The look of concern drawn through your strained lips, your furrowed brow, and your shifting eyes only further set in his new reality—he had his family. He had found his home.

"I'm okay, love. Just. . .thank you."

моя милая = my dear коля = kolya

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin @emyyy007 @betweensinners

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sweet-as-an-angel · 9 months

Text

Yandere Kencanons

Warnings: Kidnapping, Abduction, Major Spoilers for The Barbie Movie, Unhinged Post, Possessive Ken, Ken Just Wants to be Loved, Petnames, Ken Being Condescending, Post-Patriarchy Ken, No Pronouns Used for Reader Except 'You'.

Simply put, you’d charmed Ken. Made his non-existent heart flutter and a feeling he always associated with Barbie to overtake him. Been in the wrong place at the right time. Hence, less than a few hours after your meeting with Kenneth, you were in Barbieland. Sorry - Kendom Land.

You’d made the mistake of asking him for the time, in a rush to make it to work. And, with a twinkle in his eye and a seeming newfound sense of purpose, he proclaimed that “You respect me!”

Dazed and with little else you could say, you shrugged. “I mean…I guess…?”

And that was enough for him.

“I must go – get back to Barbieland – spread the news about patriarchy!”

You'd humoured him, more for the promise of your own safety than actual agreement, and he tipped his hat to you, billowing away in the direction of Venice Beach in a haze of his own world.

You managed to dodge him initially, untangling yourself from his vacant stare and making it to work unscathed.

On your way to lunch a few hours after, however, you were accosted again.

Of course, by none other than Ken Carson.

Who, having put all he’d learnt from his books on horses, the Wild West, and patriarchy, literally lassoed you and threw you onto his shoulder.

“We’ve gotta get you back to Barbieland – the Kens are not gonna believe this !”

On your journey back to this mysterious place, Ken explained to you how Barbies usually rule everything while the Kens are left with nothing.

“But, with you at my side, I’m sure we can make it right!”

You genuinely chalked this guy up to be insane, if at most, an escaped patient.

However, as you traversed 2D landscapes, you were more inclined to believe him. That this fabled Babrietopia did in fact exist.

And, once you get there, you become Patriarchy Ken’s personal servant.

He tells you to “Brewski Beer” him, all the while talking about how his initial conception of patriarchy had been that it was “Horses who ran the world, but it’s actually men — and horses are men extenders.”

He calls you his “bride-wife” or “groom-husband”, which, compared to the other Kens’ long-term distance low-commitment casual partners, seems oddly…endearing. Dangerously permanent.

With no idea how to get back to the Real world, you’re stuck with Ken and his entourage of fellow Kens, the Barbies either indoctrinated into their way of thinking or in hiding.

Speaking of, you are basically Ken’s property.

And he treats you as such whenever one of the other Kens tries to accost your service.

His tone is low, eyes sharp. “(Y/N) is my long-term distance low-commitment partner, not yours, Ken.”

And, to show as much, you get to sit on the floor next to Ken as he watches the Godfather with his Kentourage, talking through the whole thing, commenting on its ingenuity and nuance.

He also makes you stay nearby whenever he changes outfits - which is just him changing into another faux mink coat, pants and headband.

Despite being this new, independent, untethered Ken, he asks your opinion on things which seem largely inconsequential. Still, you sense something unstable. Insecurity, perhaps.

"What about...this coat?"

"Isn't that the same as the last one you showed me?"

Ken looks at your glass reflection in the wardrobe doors. His smile glitches, falters. He replaces it.

"Yeah, course - I was just testing you, seein' if you were paying attention."

Whenever you get a moment alone, away from the madness of the Kens, it’s short-lived. For Ken is never far behind, seeming to materialise in the doorway of whatever room of the Dreamhouse you’ve adopted as your refuge.

“What’s wrong, tiny baby?” He says, sauntering over to you, snake-like.

“I want to go home, Ken,” You tell him, voice racked with sobs, tears in your eyes.

He just gives you a narrowed, confused look, adopting an almost incredulous posture as if to say ‘Why?’

“First of all, I don’t like your tone, Doll,”

He steps towards you. You step back.

“Second of all, why in Kendom Land would you wanna leave ?" Another step forward. Another step back. "This is the dream of any patriarch’s partner to be where you are now; it should feel just like home !” Another step forward, another step ba-

Your legs hit the edge of the bed.

It doesn’t matter how hurt - or frightened - you look. Ken doesn’t listen.

“And besides, do you know how many Barbies would kill to be where you are now ? I know Weird Barbie would.” And he smiles – smirks – as if he’s triumphed you in some way only he is aware of, hands on his waist. The image of power.

Ken tends to test his boundaries when it comes to physical affection.

Seeing as he received none with Barbie, he seems to want to try his luck with you.

And yes, this does include him puckering his lips and staying stood in front of you until one of you caves.

Usually, it’s him, causing him to retract and act as if nothing happened. Which it didn’t.

But when he really wants a kiss, he can persist for hours.

You timed him. Two hours and three minutes until you relented and pecked him.

“Wow,” he says, every time, as if it’s the first time, his eyes clouded with dreams and what you could only pen as whimsy.

He’s incredibly touch-starved. Show him an ounce of willing and he’ll be overjoyed in his own, new, macho way. Though, he does have a hard time containing a squeal whenever you touch skin.

Secretly, he's entranced by how...human you are. how different you feel and talk to the other dolls in his Kendom.

He's developed an obsession interest with your hands, holding them in his, telling you how small and soft your hands are compared to his.

He squeezes them whenever he gets the chance, commenting on how "Squishy" your fingers are, despite you having a skeleton beneath your skin - a concept that blows Ken away every time you explain it to him.

He also adores hugs. Though, he only hugs you/lets you hug him when out of view of other Kens. He needs to protect his image as the stoic leader, after all.

Loves a cuddle; goes stupid crazy for them.

He favours holding you to his chest and resting his chin atop your head. He finds your warmth a foreign comfort. While you find his lack of a heart – and a beat – a discomfort.

“S’nice and warm,” he says, eyes closed, the image of laxity. "Being here with you."

He mumbles that last part. You know not to inquire further. The Kens consider any form of genuine affection to be a weakness.

It’s in your best interest to just let him stay there and talk about whatever it is he’s fascinated himself with, lest you wish to incur a temper tantrum or the cold shoulder.

Aside from being a fan of hand-holding, he's also a partaker in wrist-holding.

If you ever do something to aggravate him, he tends to grip your wrist hard enough to make you wince, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed.

“Something wrong, Babe?” He’ll say, tone deep with simmering wrath.

You know not to push it with Ken.

Despite how platinum and perfect he is, he does harbour a resentment which, whether caused by you or not, he seems to target you with.

Talked to a Ken for too long, or in a way he didn’t like?

He’s going to embarrass you in front of him. Make you seem undesirable to all who are not himself.

He knows he can’t make you disappear, given the fact that you’re mortal. But he knows he can make other Kens disappear; an idea that, the first time it appeared to him, frightened him, made him confront a darker half he’d repressed. But, as time went on, he’s learnt to harness it in ways you’d never have suspected from a Ken.

Not that you’d know it from the way he treats you, but he does actually care for you.

Perhaps…as much as, even more so, than he does — did — for Barbie.

He doesn’t feel like he’s tethered to any one job or image when he’s with you; his identity is not an extension of yours. But, he does try to treat yours as if it is an extension of his.

“Babe, hurry up with those beers — the game’s about to start !”

He knows you’re impervious to the effects of his brainwashing, given that you’re from the Real World, so he feels that you’re the most genuine person in Kendom Land. Hence he tends to treat you with equal harshness and care.

This also often leads to Ken asking you things about your world. Things he doesn’t yet have the answers for.

His favourite pastime is to lay his head on your thighs while you sit against the headboard of his bed, asking you any and all questions that come to mind.

“What’s your favourite colour?”, “Where does the sun go when it’s night time?”, “What did you do at your job?”

Personal ones like that last one often cause you to tense, and Ken can tell. He tends to refrain from asking you such questions now, seeing as any reminder of your life prior to this cause you to, what he has learnt to call it, cry.

Despite how tone-deaf Kenneth can be, he is actually rather intuitive. Or, rather, considerate.

When you’d told him your favourite colour, he’d painted his bedroom walls in it. Albeit a slap-dash job of it, given how interior design is not in his box description like Interior Design Ken, but he tried !

Despite his small acts of kindness being his attempts to imitate comfort, they do little to calm you. For everything he says, does, discussing a future with you in Kendom Land, changing aspects of his world to cater to your preferences, feel as if you are to take up unwilling, permanent residence here.

And, while you wait and plot for a way to escape, you exist as a perpetual puppet for Ken to mither and berate and order around.

In the real world, a doll has started appearing on shelves – a new range of ‘Misery Barbie/Ken’ dominating the toy aisles of every supermarket and toy store, your visage wrapped tightly in every box.

Tears, an outfit demeaning enough to make a grandmother faint, and the unwavering expression of the need for freedom.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterpost Masterlist

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

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augustvandyne · 3 months

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Hey! could you please right a natasha x wife r? Idk if you remember when the avengers have to take refuge and they have to go to clints house (he's reluctant bc he has a secret family only nat knows about)? well could you write it so it's actually nats family that no one knows about? and she's super reluctant to take them there

everyone's alive and no one knew she had a family (not even clint) and the timeline is SUPER wack bc plot twist, yelenas already there. the avengers are hurt nat didn't tell them and they're kinda mad too

nats wife doesn't like having them there bc it's her home and they're putting them all in more danger then they normally are in. the kids don't like them either bc they 'take their mom away' or something like that (but the kids adooore their aunt yelena)

this is super long I'm sorry but the idea has been plaguing my head and I feel like it would be fun to read about. thank you and have a great day!

hi! yes! don’t worry about it being too long, i’ll listen to and write whatever thoughts you have.

safehouse

You and Yelena were baking a cake when pack of Avengers came piling through the front door.

You were expecting Natasha later in the week, and alone. Not with the danger that is literally standing in your doorway.

That was the best part of this place, there was no danger. Nat left work at work, and when she came home all she focused on was her family—you, Yelena, and your two lovely children.

So you were definitely surprised, and not happy, to see the other five Avengers.

You walk further into the living room, and when Nat sees you, her face is immediately apologetic.

“Babe—“

“Who are all these people?” Yelena comes and stands beside you in the living room, staring up at all the men.

“This is Steve, Clint, Tony, Thor, and Bruce. They’re my friends,” Natasha shrugs.

“Uh, no, we’re not your friends now,” Clint crosses his arms with sass.

“They’re the Avengers,” You correct your wife. “And they shouldn’t be here.”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to even bring them here, but—“

“It’s our fault, ma’am,” Steve interrupted.

“Oh, here we go,” Tony throws his hands in the air.

“What?” Steve whines.

“First the language, and now the manners. Good god,” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Okay, take it elsewhere. More preferably, back to where you came from,” You fake smile, earning a glare from Nat.

“Where are the kids?” Nat asks, and you get the feeling she needs to talk. Alone.

“Upstairs in the playroom. Yelena, why don’t you take them outside to play on the swing set?” You ask sweetly.

“Ah, gotcha,” Yelena gave a look to Natasha that said, good luck.

The kids say hello to Nat, made faces at the men still in your living room, and then squealed with joy out the door because their mama is home.

You looked away from the door and back up at the Avengers once again. Nat softly grabs you by the arm and pulls your towards the other side of the living room.

“What are they doing here, Nat?” You lean closer, your foreheads slightly touching.

“I had no other choice,” Natasha’s raspy voice makes it hard not to forgive her.

You sigh and purse your lips.

“Really,” Nat insists. “If there was any other choice, I would have made it. We just got into a little trouble, and need to camp out for a few days.”

You made a vow not to ask what trouble she was in, so you kept your mouth shut when she says this.

“Okay. But if there’s even a little bit of damage to the house, they are paying for it,” You lift your head up and walk back towards the group, Natasha following close behind.

Nat glances your way, then back at the boys, “We can stay here. But only for a few days.”

“So this is where Lady Natasha goes every time she takes off,” Thor nods.

“Yes. A home we didn’t even know about?” Bruce shakes his head.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” Clint looks genuinely hurt when Nat looks at him. “I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Tony puts his hand on his chest.

You roll your eyes and head back to the kitchen before the cake burns, letting your wife deal with her friends/fellow Avengers.

You finish the frosting Yelena had started, and ice the cake once it comes out of the oven. You then start on dinner. Something easy everyone can enjoy—pasta.

Dinner goes about as well as you thought it would.

Nat and the kids catch up. She just saw them a week or so ago, so there isn’t much to catch up, but you love watching Natasha play and talk with the kids.

You try not to laugh as the kids keep making faces at the guys.

Your daughter starts to kick Tony in the shin, to which him and your daughter start having a staring contest.

“Okay, what are you guys doing?” Nat asked.

“Your tiny agent keeps kicking me,” Tony says, never taking his eyes off the smaller girl.

“Okay she’s not an agent, and it’s probably because you take her mother away every chance you get,” You sighed with frustration. “Good she’s kicking you, maybe you’ll leave then.”

“Y/n—“

“I’m sorry,” You look at your wife. “I said it was okay, even though you’re putting us it more danger. But, I will try to be civil, but only for Natasha.”

“Thank you.”

Later in the night you had assigned everyone to places in the house to spend the night.

Yelena had volunteered to spend the night with the kids, so at least two people could bunk in there, and it was fine by you because the kids adored Yelena.

So two people slept in Yelena’s room, you had one in the living room, and two in the guest room downstairs.

“They are mad at me, you know?” Nat brushed through her hair.

“They’ll get over it. It’s a safe house,” You wrap your arms around her waist from behind. “You are supposed to keep it secret.”

“I know,” Nat turns so you two are face to face. “I love you, and thank you for letting us stay here. We’ll be out of her in two days, tops.”

“Good,” You plant a kiss on the side of Natasha’s mouth.

“But I might not be back for a while,” Nat cups your cheek in her hand.

“I had a feeling,” You look down.

“I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

“How about you start now?” You lift a brow and squeal as your wife picks you up and puts you on the bed.

Danger aside, you loved having your wife back in your arms, and you were granted with just that from this crazy mission.

#marvel #marvel x reader #bruce banner #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #thor odinson #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wlw post #send asks

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disasterofastory · 2 years

Text

Best friends (Stucky x Reader)

Best friends Stucky x virgin!Reader Warnings: smut, smut, smut, smut

Summary: Bucky has this amazing idea to give your virginity to Steve while he watches.

A/N: Kinktober 2022

Bucky is your best friend.

Ugh, you could kill him with your bare hands right now!

"What?" Your voice fills the small kitchen of your apartment. The TV is muffled and forgotten in the living room. Your favorite mug lands on the counter with a loud thud. Hot tea splashes out onto the cheap surface. Your eyes are wide, and your breathing is ragged as you watch the two men at the doorway. Bucky and Steve stand beside each other with crossed arms and smug smirks.

Ugh, the urge to punch them in the face!

"This is my best idea ever!" Bucky almost shouts with excitement. You are sure even your neighbors can hear him. "Okay," you breathe out with a feigned calmness in your voice."You lost your mind." "I did not!" "Then you have a stroke!" "Don't be such a meanie!" While you two argue, Steve continues to smirk and stare at you. Your leggings hug your legs deliciously while the worn t-shirt is bigger than you in several sizes. The fabric is familiar to Steve. It was Bucky's once. Your hair is a mess, and your face is free from makeup. The blonde man is sure he never saw you without lipstick before. You are still pretty. You are always pretty. The mention of his name wakes him up from his thoughts. "Steve, there is no way you agree with him!" Your eyes are on the blonde man now, waiting for his reaction. He shrugs, smirking. He is definitely not against the idea. "It would be so horrible?" You open your mouth to answer but can't find your voice. Having sex with Steve? You are sure it wouldn't be horrible. Losing your virginity like this? Yeah, it sounds like a lifetime of humiliation and shame. Your attention turns back to Bucky. "I can't believe you did this behind my back." Worry flashes on the brunette's expression before he steps closer to you until he can reach your arms. His long fingers smooth along your soft skin, holding your hands in his warm ones. "You told me you want to lose your virginity." Heat washes over your cheeks, and you don't dare to look at Steve, who is still at the doorway, watching and waiting. "I told you I would do it, but you are afraid it would change things between us." "And you asking your best friend to have sex with me while you are watching won't change things?" You ask. Your voice is high and breathless. "Well, you can trust Steve, and me being there is just an extra." A cheeky smirk pulls on his plump lips. Yeah, you know about Bucky's kinks and his history with Steve. And Steve… You know you can trust him. Even if you and Bucky are closer, thanks to the years you worked at the restaurant together, Steve is still your friend. "Bucky…" "Come on," the brunette coos, pulling you closer to his warm body. "It will be fun." "You and I have entirely different ideas about fun," you groan. You still feel humiliated, but can't deny the slight throbbing between your legs. "You say this because nobody ate you out before." "Bucky!" Your whine is muffled by his chest, but their laugh is clear and loud.

"So, what do you say, sweet girl?" Steve's deep voice is right behind you, making you jump and gasp as you look over your shoulder. "Are you sure you want this?" You ask him. You can't help but still feel a bit humiliated. Your best friend has to ask his best friend to take your virginity. It's not like you couldn't get laid if you want to, you just don't want someone you barely know but getting to know someone is not in your priorities. Steve moves closer. He presses his hips to the small of your back where you can feel his hard answer. "What do you think?" "Okay," you exhale. "So… how… how are we going to do this?" You can't believe you say yes to this madness, but here you are. "Let's go to your bedroom first," Bucky answers, leading you to the small room with Steve still on your heels. "It will be more comfortable here."

Excitement and hunger roar up in your belly while you stand at the end of the bed. Steve is in front of you, and Bucky takes his seat on the sofa at the wall. A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, and in other circumstances, you would make sure to wipe it off, but right now, you are too busy with the other man. Steve's arms slide around your waist, hugging you close as he stares down at you. "We will start it slow, okay?" He asks quietly to not to break the moment between you. "And we can stop at any moment." You nod. "Okay." He dips closer until your lips meet. It starts softly. Your first kiss with Steve is barely stronger than a light brush on your tingling lips. Like a warm breath. A soft breeze. He moves back, and when he sees the impatient dizziness on your face, he grins and kisses you again. His tongue dances along your lower lip, nibbling on the soft flesh until you open your mouth, and he invades you, moving his hand to the back of your head. The slight pull on your hair makes you moan, and the kiss soon becomes all tongue and teeth. Steve feasts on your lips, letting his hunger for you lead him for long seconds. "Was it your first kiss?" He asks. His breath fans over your face. Bucky scoffs in the background, and you groan as you glance at your friend. "Shut up!" Then you look back at Steve. "No." The story of your first kiss is a long story. Well, not that long, but rather awkward. "Are you ready to go further?" With a deep breath, you nod and let him take off your t-shirt. Bucky's t-shirt. "Do you have a lot of Bucky's clothes?" Steve asks, letting the worn fabric fall on the ground. His gaze runs over your bare upper body without shame. "I mean…" "She has all my sweaters," Bucky chimes in. Steve chuckles and moves his hands to pull down your leggings. "Oh, you, shut up!" You snap at Bucky again, stepping out of your pants. Your whole body burns under their heavy stare, but the light conversation helps you to stay calm and collected. You have to force yourself not to hide your breasts with your arms. Steve wouldn't let you anyway. "Don't listen to him, Y/N," Steve says, cupping your jaw to pull your attention away from Bucky. "He is just jealous." No. He is not. All three of you know that. Even though Bucky would love to participate, he enjoys just watching the same. Watching you getting bare in front of his hungry eyes makes him hard and horny. His half-hard cock is pressed against his jeans. You are just as beautiful as he imagined when you first mentioned your lack of sex life.

Steve kisses you again while his hand moves from your arms to your ribs until he cups your tits with both hands. He gropes them, playing with the soft flesh. His thumbs brush over your nipples, flicking and teasing the buds until they are hard under his rough fingertips. Your back arches, pushing your chest into his palms some more. "Do you like it?" Steve asks. "Are your pretty nipples sensitive?" "I…I guess." The words leave your swollen lips ragged. "Steve!" You cry out when he pinches and pulls on one of them. The light pain goes straight between your legs. Your clit throbs in sync with the beat of your heart. "Oh, they are," he smirks smugly. "Let me have fun with them, sweet girl. Let me taste them." He doesn't even wait for your answer. His lips latch on one of the hard buds, sucking it into his warm mouth. His teeth graze the sensitive skin, and his tongue flattens on the bud. He hollows his cheeks as he starts to suckle on your breast. Your hand is in his hair, pulling on the soft strands. "Steve," you cry out his name. Your voice is whiny and impatient. Steve and Bucky groan at the same time. The brunette is still on the sofa, stroking his own cock through his jeans. "Sweet girl," Steve chuckles, leaving your soft tits to kiss and nibble on your skin to stop under your ear. "What's the problem, Y/N?" "I…" You don't know what to say. You need so many things from the man you don't know where to start. "Yeah?" He teases. "How do you feel? Tell me." "I… I'm burning and aching," you reply, tasting the words on your tongue. Your skin is too tight, and your pussy is too empty. "Ah," he coos. "Our sweet girl is aching." You notice the word 'our' but say nothing about it. You are too busy with Steve's wandering hands, and you don't hate the thought. Being their girl. His arm curls around your waist while his other hand slips into your panties. "Your pussy aching?" He asks, cupping you between your legs. His middle finger glides through your soft folds. You soak his hand within seconds. "Take off her panties," Bucky orders hoarsely. He can't wait to see your sweet cunt. And the view of your naked body is prettier than he ever imagined. You step out of your panties automatically when Steve pulls them down on your legs. The apex of your thighs shines with your juices, and the blonde man's fingers are thick and long between your folds. "Do you want to taste him, Buck?" Steve asks suddenly. Your eyes widen. Even though you agreed Bucky would stay on the sideline, the thought of him between your leg doesn't seem so horrible. Steve smirks at your reaction and the slight disappointment on your face when Bucky walks closer but instead of falling on his knees, he takes Steve's fingers into his mouth. The view of your best friend sucking on another man's finger makes your pussy gush around nothing. "I think she likes it," Steve states, pulling his fingers in and out between Bucky's lips. He makes sure he is wet enough with the brunette's saliva before gliding his hand back to your pussy. He opens you up while kissing you again. "Such a shame he can't take care of you," Steve teases with feigned sadness. "Because, sweet girl, he is the devil himself with his mouth and tongue." You moan and grind yourself against his hand. His palm grazes over your clit, smearing your wetness all over your pussy and mound. "Lay down, baby," Steve says, breaking the kiss. "Let me taste you properly. I have to make sure you can take my cock into your pretty pussy." You do as he says. Your whole body trembles as you let yourself fall back on your bed, legs open, waiting. "Look at that, Bucky," Steve breathes out. "So pretty." "And she tastes so good," the other moans. His eyes are on your pussy, amazed by the beautiful view of your juicy center and swollen tits. Your nipple still glistens with Steve's saliva. "We will see," the man hums, kneeling down at the end of the bed. Soon, your legs are over his broad shoulders, and his face is between your legs. You hear him breathing in your sweet scent, and his groan runs through your spine. "Steve," you cry. "Please." "I'm coming, sweet girl, it's okay." And with that, he laps up on your folds, gathering your wetness on his hot tongue. He licks and slurps on your folds until he finds your throbbing, aching clit. He closes his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking on it like he did on your nipples not long ago.

Meanwhile, Bucky stands next to the bed. His cock is free from his jeans, his hand around the thick shaft as he strokes himself. His movements are slow, savoring every moment of you moaning and begging for more. "Don't forget your fingers, Steve," Bucky comments cheekily. "Don't forget what I taught you." Wet, slurping sounds fill the room that stop for a second when Steve growls into your pussy with distaste. "Oh, god," you moan. Your fingers dig into the cover under you, and your back arches away from the bed. It feels like Steve sucks the soul out of you, and you have nothing against the idea. Steve's fingers soon find your entrance, propping the tight hole to stretch you out and get you ready for his throbbing erection. He makes sure he goes slow and soft, not wanting to hurt you. "Cum, Y/N. Cum in Steve's mouth. Show him what that pussy can do." Bucky's order is sudden, but your body recognizes it immediately. Pleasure flares up in your veins as your chest swells with oxygen. Steve's grip on your hip is hard and tight as you grind against his lips and fingers. He devours everything you give him, slurping and drinking on your sweet nectar. Your thighs close around his head, keeping him in place until you are spent and dizzy. Small shocks shake your body when your orgasm ends. "Did you ever make yourself cum like this?" Bucky asks. His hand is on the base of his thick cock, keeping himself from cumming. Your breathing is rapid and heavy as you shake your head. No. And you are not sure you could ever do it. When your legs fall from his head, Steve kisses up on your whole body until he reaches your lips. The taste of you on his dominating tongue is overwhelming enough to make you excited once again. "Take it off," you murmur between kisses as you grab his shirt to tug on it. You feel his smile on your lips before he backs away to undress. "You are so pretty," you hum, still dizzy after your orgasm. Both Steve and Bucky laugh at your loose tongue. "You think so, sweet girl?" Steve smirks. "Yes." He really is. His skin is smooth on his broad muscles and the air gets stuck in your lungs when his jeans fall on the ground too. His cock is thick and hard. A bluish vein runs on the side of his shaft. The head is red and wet with pre-cum. "That's pretty too," you admit quietly mostly to yourself, but Steve and Bucky hear you. "Sweet girl," the blonde chuckles. "And what do you think about Bucky's dick?" He asks, moving up on you until your bodies are pressed against each other. His breath is warm on the side of your face. He leans on his elbow while his other hand caresses your side, drawing the underside of your breast and flicking the hard nipple. Your gaze wanders to Bucky, who still stands at the side of the bed, cock in hand, eyes on you. His cock is thicker than Steve's, but not that long. His balls hang heavy and deliciously. Licking your lips, you drag your eyes up on the man until you meet his lust-filled gaze. "Bucky's pretty too." "What?" Steve asks, nibbling on your neck. His deep baritone rumbles over your heated skin. "What is pretty, baby?" "Bucky's cock." "She is already cockdrunk," Bucky laughs, but he can't deny the satisfaction your words cause in him. "We are going to have so much fun with her," the man above you replies. "But first, I have to break that sweet pussy of hers."

His hand leaves your boob to grab himself between his muscled thighs. He drags his cock up and down over your folds, mixing your juices and soaking his length in your honey. "What do you say, sweet girl?" Steve asks. "Are you ready to take me? This pretty little cunt is capable of taking my cock?" "Yes," you rasp. The need is heavy in your lower belly. "Please, Steve." The man coos, kissing the tip of your nose before pushing his erection against your gaping hole. He moves slowly and softly, pushing his cock into you patiently. He lets you adjust around him, making sure your tight walls stretch without causing pain. "How do you feel, Y/N?" Bucky asks, watching your expressions. A small grimace pulls on your lips. "It's uncomfortable." "It will get better," the blonde man promises, stopping. His balls jerk at the urge to push into you fully and the force that keeps him doing it. "Tell me if it's too much." "No," you reply stubbornly. "Move deeper, please." "So polite," Bucky groans, kneeling on the bed to lean above you for a searing kiss. His movements are fast and forceful, drawing your attention away from the uncomfortable feeling between your legs. He fucks his tongue into your mouth, letting saliva escape between your lips while Steve pushes deeper. The slight pain is still there, but you don't have time to care. Letting yourself submit to Bucky's lips is more important. When the brunette decides to back away, Steve is in you entirely. Your walls loosen around him, making you calm down and enjoy the moment. "Are you okay, baby?" Steve asks. "Yes," you nod rapidly. Excitement runs through your body. He can fuck you now. "Move, Steve. Please fuck me." And he does. He goes slowly, moving in and out of you with small movements until he is sure you are really okay. Your legs curl around his waist, and your heels dig into his ass to urge him more. A breathy chuckle escapes his lips, but he does as you want. And finally, Steve is fucking you. He pounds into your tight hole, pushing his hips against yours while you moan and writhe under him. His strong arms cage you between his hard body and the bed. He uses your pussy, enjoying every flutter of your walls.

Bucky jerks himself in sync with Steve's thrusts. His fingers are tight around his length, imagining your hot cunt around himself. He can almost feel it, the hotness, the softness of your body, your mewls next to his ear. His lower belly tenses and his muscles are taut as he tries to hold himself back. He doesn't want to finish before you. "Are you gonna cum?" Steve asks breathly. His hips snap against yours rapidly, chasing your orgasms with force. "Cum around my cock, sweet girl. Make a mess on it so we can mark you with our seed. Did Bucky tell you that? How will we finish? We want to cum on your skin, baby. We want to mark that pretty, tight body with our semen." "Steve!" You cry his name. Your head presses against the bed, eyes closed. The man bites into the curve of your neck and shoulder to push you some more. Electricity runs through your body as the hot coil snaps in your belly. Pleasure floods your senses, burning your veins and nerves. The world stops moving for long minutes. There is nothing but you and the delicious stretch in your pussy. You gush around Steve's cock, gripping him to the point he can barely move. A hoarse groan breaks through his throat as he almost rips himself out of you in haste. His cum splashes on your folds, coating your pussy and mound. He can't tear his eyes away from the beautiful view. He can see your hole fluttering and begging for his cock. Bucky's throaty groan seems far away even though his warm seed is on your skin, covering your hip and stomach. He can't wait to see your pretty face and tits soaking in his seed. Maybe next time. The moment his orgasm passes, he has other ideas to continue the night.

Your mind is still dizzy, and your body shivers and jerks with pleasure when you feel Steve's fingers around your ankle as he holds up one of your legs. "Are you ready for dessert, Buck?"

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #stucky x reader #stucky smut #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #kinktober 2022 #virgin!reader

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biteofcherry · 10 months

Text

A little slice of something sweet&spicy for @alexakeyloveloki on her bithday! 🍰🎉💗

A follow-up to Cherry

soft!dark enforcer Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: soft!dark Steve; hints of power imbalance; hint of innocence/corruption kink; hint of breeding kink; explicit se*ual situations;

You swallowed nervously as you walked up to the door of an expensive-looking house in the hills. The gate was wide open, two dark cars parked in the driveway. There was no sign of Steve's camaro, but maybe it was hidden in the huge garage in the separate building you passed.

The house looked like a renovated mid-century style and though you couldn't see it, you suspected there was a big swimming pool in the backyard.

The thought of which instantly created an image of Steve emerging from it - water dripping down his sculpted body, shimmering on the colorful ink of his tattoos.

You still haven't seen them, only the glimpse of those stretching up to his wrists and over his neck.

Jesus, you closed your eyes, once again feeling a wave of shame wash over you.

You met Steve two days ago. He was a complete stranger, with an aura of darkness that should make you run away.

Instead, you flew to him like a moth to a flame.

You allowed him to consume you the very first time you met him; hell, you were still trembling at the memory of the way he fucked you in his car, then right outside your apartment.

It could be just an adventure. A crazy one time thing you can brag about to your friends, for once having something really spicy to talk of.

But you kept the little piece of paper with Steve's address and dolled yourself up to meet him on the day he asked you.

Though the voice of reason yelled at you to at least have some doubts, you didn't hesitate for a single second as you put on a cute summer dress, a pair of bow sandals, and pink panties that already had a little wet spot, because you couldn't help thinking about what Steve was going to do to you on your date.

Nothing happened for a long moment after you rang the doorbell, your nervousness heightening in fear of being ignored. But then the door opened and you lifted up your gaze to look at a tall, bulky blonde man in what could be only described as surfer's style attire.

His long, wavy hair matched that vibe as well.

"Well, hello there." He grinned. "Whatever you're selling, I'm buying two of it."

A small laugh escaped your lips, which seemed to make the huge hunk's smile widen.

"I'm- um, I'm supposed to meet Steve," you explained, clenching your fingers tighter around your purse.

"Ah, the five o'clock meeting he wouldn't disclose the details of. Come on in." The guy moved aside to let you pass. "He's finishing a previous meeting, but I'm sure he'll be happy to know you're already waiting."

He led you through the sunny house to an ajar door, through which you could hear scraps of conversation.

Steve's voice you recognized right away.

He spoke firmer than when he was talking to you, giving clipped commands and harsh critique. You'd never want him to use that tone with you.

"Your next meeting is here." Surfer guy simply walked inside the office.

He moved to take a seat in one of the chairs, while you stood there in the open door like a deer caught in headlights.

You felt like that, too.

Because the moment you stepped in the doorway of the office, your eyes landed right on Steve.

He was sitting behind a desk, his dark green shirt unbuttoned halfway and the sleeves rolled up. More tattoos were on display, as well a tiny glint of a golden chain around his neck.

His blue eyes zeroed in on you; his gaze moved up your body slowly, taking every inch as if he was already imagining every single detail of what he was going to do to you and how will you look taking it all.

Then his attention shifted to a group of men sprawled on a couch on the side of the office.

"Your incompetence made me late for my date." He said to them and there wasn't even a slightest hint of playfulness to his tone.

He made it sound as if they did a severe offence to him and he was a step away from making them pay for it.

You had no idea what line of work Steve dabbed in, but it sounded like a serious business with dire consequences. Now you felt like you were an intruder who should leave, or else Steve's annoyance will shift to you.

However, when Steve's eyes returned to you, the steely glint in them morphed into softness.

"Come here, Cherry," he slid his chair back and motioned for you to walk over to him.

Your heartrate quickened as you felt eyes on you when you fully stepped inside. You tried not to glance at any of the other men in the room, instead allowing Steve to hold your gaze and lure you into his flame.

You let out a surprised gasp when Steve pulled you into his lap the moment you rounded the desk.

One of your hands touched his chest as you braced yourself at the sudden change in position. Steve's skin was warm beneath your fingers, dark blonde curls of his chest hair tickling your palm slightly.

You quickly moved your hand away, embarrassed that you touched him so openly while strangers were watching.

Steve didn't seem to mind it. He took your hand and lifted it to his lips to brush a soft kiss on your knuckles. Then he placed your hand back on his chest, while his own landed on your thigh.

Unabashedly high, almost slipping beneath your sundress.

"You're exactly on time, Cherry. You really are a good girl, aren't you?" He mused quietly, squeezing your flesh.

"Yes, Steve," your gaze dropped down and you tucked in your chin.

Steve studied you for a moment longer then turned his attention back to the others in the room.

"You have your orders and you better follow them exactly." Cold edge of his voice made you want to bury your face in the crook of his neck to avoid his wrath.

"Thor, make sure they make no mistakes this time. Now leave. All of you."

You didn't lift your head even after you heard the last footsteps fading away, your gaze lingering on the twirls of ink on Steve's chest as your own heart hammered in your ribcage.

You were acutely aware there was just the two of you now left. And as much as it was what you wanted, your nervousness bloomed.

Steve cupped your chin and made you look up at him.

"I'm sorry for running late on our date, Cherry. I promise that what I have planned should make it up to you."

"But-" suddenly his charming smile twisted into a hungry smirk as both of his hands slid to your hips- "those imbeciles have worked me up and I need to take the edge off before we leave."

In a swift single move he hoisted you up onto his desk.

"With how stiff and shy you are on me now, I think you need to get off, too."

He spread your legs apart - not that you put up much of a fight - and moved his chair closer.

Steve flipped the skirt of your dress up and traced his fingers across the pink cotton of your panties. He pressed his thumb against your clit, right above a small wet spot of your arousal.

"I see you're eager for our date," he chuckled, rubbing your clit harder and watching the wet stain spread.

Your hands clenched on the edge of the desk when Steve pulled the fabric of your panties aside and inched his mouth closer.

"I bet you're sweet all over, sweet Cherry."

He took a taste with a swipe of his tongue, licking between your slick folds and flicking the tip over your clit.

Your hips bucked and your head fell back when he repeated the motion, this time in three rapid strokes. Then his mouth descended on you, biting into your pussy as if it was a juicy fruit.

You weren't sure if you came when his tongue flicked between your opening and your anus, or when Steve's mouth closed around your clit and sucked. Or maybe it was two orgasms melting into one.

Your eyelids were clenched shut and your head swimming when his fingers curled around the front of your neck. With a hand around your throat, Steve pushed you back until you lied down on the desk fully, while he stood up.

A clink of a buckle being undone reached your mushy brain and your eyes fluttered open. Just to see Steve pushing his zipper down.

His cock sprang free; big and thick and veiny.

Your cunt clenched, hungry to feel the stretch of him leave you sore again.

Steve pumped himself a few times before inching forward between your splayed thighs.

"W-wait," your hand reached up as last, barely functioning brain cells reminded you of something important.

Steve paused, as you asked, squeezing his shaft tighter. The sight of it made you drool, your thoughts threatening to melt away. But you managed to stay focused for a second longer.

"Condom. Do you have- can you put one on?" You asked, looking up at Steve with uncertainty.

You wanted him to use one, but you weren't sure if you'd really be able to stop it all if he refused to. You wanted him inside of you too much.

"Condom?" Steve quirked a brow in surprise, studying you.

"Yes, please. I'm not on birth control," you admitted, gulping nervously.

Steve's blue eyes darkened as your words sank in. He stepped closer, bare cock inches from your dripping, unprotected pussy.

"Sweet Cherry, you let me take your pretty, tight pussy raw, even though you could've ended up pregnant?"

His voice was a sinful temptation and his dirty words made your walls clench around nothing.

"Yes," you admitted, ashamed.

"Why, hm?" He resumed slow strokes of his cock as he put his other hand right above your pussy, spreading his fingers wide on your abdomen and dipping his thumb between your folds.

Because I wanted you so bad.

Because I needed you inside me at any cost.

Because I liked that you branded me with your cum.

Because I didn't care what you do to me as long as you kept doing it.

"I don't know." You bit your bottom lip. "I wasn't thinking about the consequences. I wasn't thinking at all. I just- I want to be responsible now."

"What a good, smart girl you are," Steve praised, brushing his thumb along your clit.

He reached into his back pocket and withdrew a short strip of foil packets. He ripped one open and rolled a condom on.

His hand returned to your throat as he pressed the head of his cock against your slick opening.

"We'll be responsible, Cherry," he leaned over you and kissed you softly.

"For now," he added in a dark rasp while thrusting deep into you.

And then he took you, with the same unrelenting force that left you boneless and moaning. Steve praised that you sounded sweet and needy; you thought you sounded more of a whore. You didn't care anyway, because the way he was making you feel was maddening good.

You came around him once, the second climax Steve forced out of you with a hand choking the air out of you and a pinch to your clit.

He finished with a groan; lips parted and face flushed, possessive glint in his eyes as he watched you twitch beneath him.

If he wasn't planning on keeping to his promise and taking you out on a proper, nice date, he wouldn't empty into the condom, but instead withdraw from your sweet cunt and come all over your pretty sundress.

But Steve was a man of his word.

So he tossed the used rubber into the bin, helped you clean yourself up, then readjusted your dress and helped your wobbly legs walk outside.

He could ruin you more when he took you back home later.

#alexakeyloveloki #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #enforcer!steve rogers #enforcer!steve rogers x reader #soft!dark steve rogers #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #steve fic: cherry #my writing

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agirlcandream84 · 6 days

Note

we need more hc!!!! they're amazing!!!! what about bf!frank when you're mad at him/you two have a fight??? 🤭🤭🤭

Truth is, I'm sorta never not thinking about a next batch of headcanons and you kinda read my mind with the theme! Except I'm thinking of all the times Frank has been mad at YOU.

Times When Boyfriend!Frank Has Been Mad At You

Well, of course, that time your car broke down and his reaction to finding out.

One of the times Frank got mad at you was actually before you even really started dating but that didn't mean Frank wasn't already in deep and when he discovered you hired a Task Rabbit to haul out some old dresser out of your apartment -- he was stompin' down the hall in three steps asking "who's this jerk?" and when you told him he gave you an incredulous look going on about how a "pretty girl like you can't invite some random asshole into your apartment. Gonna get yourself killed like that" before he has you sit in the living room while he tells the confused man that he's got it from here and hauls the damn thing out himself.

Ok so we already know about that time that some dude on a crowded subway car rubbed his junk up against you while you were both smashed in during rush hour but did I mention that you failed to disclose that information to Frank for a week before he overheard your sister ask you if you saw the guy who "rubbed his junk into your ass" again since it last happened. You hear Frank mutter "what the fuck" from the other room before he appears in the doorway and says "Sweetheart, can I talk to you for second?" as he nods his head in the direction of the bedroom. Of course you try to deflect but he's insistent and that's when Frank launches into 1) a check to make sure you're ok and 2) when he's confirmed that you are ok, a lecture about withholding this from him. You try to tell him that you didn't want to make a "big thing" about it because it sadly happens to a lot of women and this only enrages Frank more and he's suddenly mad at All Men™️ for being disgusting assholes and obviously theres very little subway in your future.

Frank somehow got retroactively mad at you for walking home drunk from bars dozens of times in your younger days, before he even knew you. You were telling him stories of your partying days, chuckling at your disregard for good decision making, when you see the smile slide off his face and his signature scowl settles in while he crosses his arms over his chest. "Now hang on a minute sweetheart -- I don't like this shit. You coulda gotten hurt," and you're all "No Frank, I know now, I just--" but he cuts you off, his mind already decided on the next course of action-- self defense classes, taught by yours truly. Your eyes couldn't roll further back in your head but he just says "roll 'em all you want doll-- this ain't negotiable"

There was only one time Frank actually yelled at you -- like he was MAD mad -- and that's when you had gone in search of a cool thrift shop you'd heard about on Tik Tok but walked up to the place and it was inside of an enormous and decidedly creepy warehouse with no particular signage. The address looked right but this place looked all wrong. Against your own better judgement, you went in searching for the shop but it was just endless dark hallways and unmarked doors and the faint sound of men's laughter somewhere in the building. Your heart pounding in your chest, you started to feel incredibly unsafe. You probably weren't in any real danger but the vibes felt so wrong and it was the first time in your life you felt genuine fear. Like the kind that made you think you made a very bad mistake. You finally decided to turn back around and called Frank to come pick you up, bursting into tears. Of course he was there in a flash and vert pissed that you ignored your own instincts. "Your gut tells you to get out, you get out! Jesus Christ sweetheart, I know I taught you better than that." He's right and you know he's right so you're just a hiccuping mess, mad at yourself for being an idiot. Frank can't see you so upset for long so he's quickly tugging you into his chest and murmuring on the top of your head, "S'alright sweetheart. Just gotta listen to your instincts. M'not mad, alright?"

Also that time you accidentally spilled bleach on his favorite hoodie. He was just plain ol' pissed at that.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fanfic #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fluff

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call-sign-shark · 7 months

Text

Day 3: Engraved in the Flesh || Finn Shelby x Reader

Requested by a lovely anon 🖤

TW: Kinktober prompt- marked, canonical violence, violent sexual practice, spanking, marking kink, non-protected sex, allusion to anal

Words: 630.

Notes: This work is a part of the Peaky Kinktober Event you can find here. Comment on the event post if you want to be tagged in the future works for Kinktober. The length of each prompt is random, but it’s never less than 600 words.

The family never suspected something to be wrong with the youngest of the tribe. After all, he had been lucky enough not to know the ugly truth of war nor the physical and emotional torment of hunger or poverty. If anything, Finn had grown up under Polly’s loving wing. Even if he was accustomed with gangs violence, he never truly took part of it before his brothers deemed him old enough. Arthur, Tommy and John worked hard so that he would never had to take a bullet like they did. They wanted him to be a general, not a disposable and vulnerable soldier. When he started to hang out with the pastor’s daughter, his Aunt was delighted. All of Birmingham knew how kind and quiet Y/N was. Holy Saint among the sinners, the young woman often wandered in the gritty streets of Small Heath with a basket filled with food she usually distributed to the poorest souls. Y/N left a bright sunshine in her wake, all the darkness of the place caught in her long coal black hair. Rumors said that when she smiled, even the most wicked men couldn’t lay a finger on her, all blissed out by her beauty and her divine aura of peacefulness. The bruises on her delicate skin? She was just incredibly clumsy. That was what her father always told her! And when she wasn’t bumping or tripping, the heavy basket she carried marked the flesh of her forearms.

But when the night came and the devils danced under the pale moonlight, she disappeared through her window and ran away from home, swallowed by the dull forest nearby. Y/N hid in an old vargo that belonged to the Shelby family, guided by the weak string lights hanging at the door, and she impatiently waited for Finn Shelby to appear in the doorway with a bottle of whisky in one hand, and a red rose in the other. Then their sordid and obscene ritual started, always following the same order: He slipped the flower in her hair, its crimson and velvety petals enhancing her beauty and suiting the color of the lipstick she had stolen from her mother. Then, they made the temperature rise, hands roaming on flesh clothes flying across the vardo. Only when the bottle of whisky was empty and their arousal reaching its limits, he assaulted her tight cunt with violent and rapid thrusts. A glistening and fragile pussy that only knew his cock. No one else’s. The way her warmth and wetness wrapped him sent his soul to heaven, making his lashes flutter. He was supposed to be a nice boy. She was supposed to be a holy and virginal girl.

So why? Why were they fucking like animals each night in the woods, filling the air with moans, flesh snapping sound and sweat? Why did he bend her over and spank her with his suit’s belt — and why did she enjoy it, her love juice trailing down her thighs more and more at each new beating? Finn grunted in her mouth when he came, painting her walls white and keeping her full til the morning. That was how Y/N liked him: engraved in her flesh, and dripping from her sore holes.

“Tsss, be more careful Y/N. You’re black and blue.” Her father scolded her, eyes rolling with annoyance at his daughter’s carelessness that revealed itself through her purplish bruises on her legs, thighs and neck. Little he knew that all her skin had been painted blue, immaculate flesh turned into a masterpiece by the brush of a mad artist. Y/N was both the canva and the muse, letting Finn Shelby turned her into what their love had always been: nothing gentle but the embodiment of Sin.

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Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore @devotedlyshadowytheorist @stevie75 @brummiereader @triplethreat77 @sebastianstangirl01 @izzy10369 @peakyltd @dreamy-caramel @kimvolturicullen

#Peaky blinders imagine #Finn Shelby #Finn Shelby x reader #Peaky blinders #Peaky blinders x reader #Finn Shelby smut #Peaky blinders smut #Peaky Kinktober

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catmelonwriting · 10 days

Note

Oohmygofd pleaaase plsplspls write bulimic reader... As some1 who's bulimic i will die if u do (positively)

BSD Men with a bulimic!reader

Warnings: Bulimia, not proofread, vomit type purging, very self inserted and based off my experiences, bad body image, reader is not underweight, hurt/comfort, a couple usages of (name) in akutagawa's bc I just can't see this man using pet names

Characters: Akutagawa, Chuuya

A/N: I'm sooo glad I'm not the only one who wanted this.. I was really hesitant to write it bc my blog is entirely smut and that usually does better than hurt/comfort, angst, or fluff, but if I'm not the only person who wants it I'm deffy gonna write it!! I don't really like Akutagawas I definitely didn't do him justice but I loveeeee chuuya's

Akutagawa

- Probably will not notice until you tell him.. just thinks you're sick or something when he hears coughing noises from the bathroom.

- From then on he's really concerned, he'll probably do a lot of research on it (w/o you knowing ofc)

- Will try and get you into treatment, even just IOP, but if you refuse HE is going to monitor everything your eating

- If you do end up binging in the middle of the night or while he's not there, the bathroom is off limits for the next 45 minutes.

- He will literally stand in the way of the doorway if you try to go, he's not risking anything.

- If you try not to eat too much the next day to 'make up for it' he'll sit with you while you eat and give you encouraging words here and there, but neither of you are getting up till your finished.

One shot

You're kneeled over the bathroom toilet, the back of a toothbrush nudging your throat, when you let out a loud gag. You immediately take the toothbrush out and cover your mouth.. you had learned to be so quiet after akutagawa found out about your eating disorder, how could you let that happen?

You hear footsteps approaching the bathroom door before three short knocks. "Yeah, Ryū?" You ask, your voice was raspy and you sounded like you had been crying. Fuck, he knows.

"..(Name) are you alright? Are you doing something you shouldn't?" His voice was sharp, like he was angry. You knew he wasn't, you knew he would never be angry at your for something like this.. just.. upset, but you can't help the guilt that courses through your body at his words.

"No." You choke out, shuffling to shove the toothbrush back in the holder. "I heard gagging." You clear your throat, trying to get rid of the rasp. "Um.. I wasn't. Just coughing. I'm not feeling well." You call out, quickly flushing your thrown up dinner down the toilet. "I'll be out in a second."

You dig in the drawers for your perfume, air freshener, dry shampoo, anything you can spray to cover up the smell of your throw up, but you couldn't find anything. So you hesitantly clean your hands and leave the bathroom with the overwhelming smell of vomit filling it.

"Hey, love." You mumble, sitting down next to him on the couch, your voice shaky. "..(Name), don't lie to me. I know what you were doing." He mumbles, placing his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. You blink back tears as you push your face into his chest. "Im sorry.. I'm so so sorry.. I didn't mean to.. I didn't.." you choke out, sniffling.

"Don't apologize to me, dear. I'm not mad, or even upset. Just.. concerned. You told me you would stop." His voice sounded sympathetic, something you weren't used to with him. The smell of cigarette smoke hung on your jacket, a scent you had grown to love and found comforting since meeting him. The way his lanky, boney, ring covered fingers glided through your hair, his soft voice, it all comforted you, it all told you it was okay to cry.

His heart ached at the little gasps and sniffles and whimpers you let out whilst sobbing into his chest. It made him want to start bawling with you, but of course he wouldn't. He could never appear weak to you. "I'm sorry- I'm so sorry Ryu- I just can't stop- I can't stop no matter how hard I try.." you sob, hands moving to cling onto the fabric of his shirt. "I'm so sorry!"

"Oh baby.." he sighed. You didn't want to look up, you know he's looking down with pity. Pity you didn't want. "It's alright. I don't want you to cry, it's not your fault.. I understand- well, no, I don't. I don't understand, but I want to help you." Wrapping his arms around you, he leans into your head, the scent of your shampoo filling his nose.

That's where you two lay for the rest of your night, him whispering comforting words in your ears, giving you all the love you could ever ask for, something you'd never expect from a man like him.

Chuuya

- He notices within the first month of FRIENDSHIP

- The way you get up and scurry off to the bathroom after every meal you share, the guilt on your face after grabbing a third serving at the party you two are at, how quick you shove shit down your throat before tears well up in your eyes and you excuse yourself.. all of it.

- He definitely cares, but probably won't confront you about it till later on in the friendship if you're still having trouble

- He won't just send you a lousy "have you been eating properly?" Text either, he's gonna invite you over to his house making it known you two are gonna have a serious conversation, then sit you down in his living room then prod and probe till you admit it.

- If you're still struggling w/ it when you're dating/when you move in together (which you probably are bc eds are harsh) he'll be like Akutagawa and monitor everything you eat, just a little more stealthily

- He is not afraid to tell you to slow down if you seem to be overeating.. he takes the binging just as seriously as the purging.

Oneshot

You had awakened in the middle of the night with a need for food. Anything you could get your hands on you needed inside of you asap.

You quickly and carefully slipped out of his arms and out of bed, tip toeing to the kitchen and flicking the light on. The first thing you see is a brand new box of cereal you had bought today, Chuuya hadn't had it in awhile, it was his favorite as a kid and he seemed happy while buying it. Guilt tote through you when you ripped open the box and shuffled handfuls into your mouth, before discarding the half empty box on the ground.

You reached for the cake you two had made for your birthday last week, taking fistfuls with your bare hands and shoving the icing covered cake in your mouth.

After shoving everything in vicinity down your throat, you open the fridge to find a diet coke, or a regular, just anything with bubbles.. anything with carbonation to help you get this all up better. Anything. Your eyes land on an energy drink you had bought yesterday.. you were saving it for today, but in your eyes you needed it now.

You crack it open and glug it down, before looking at the mess you made on the floor. Empty boxes, half eaten cake, a carton of half eaten cookies, an empty bowl that was previously filled with salad, an empty milk carton.. you felt sick to your stomach. You needed this out of you now. Now.

You quietly tip toe to the bathroom, turning off the kitchen lights behind you and locking the door behind you, kneeling on the ground in front of the toilet. You hated doing this, you hated how gross you felt hovering over something where your ass went.. but you needed it gone. You couldn't gain weight.. you already felt so fat as it is no matter how much chuuya tried to convince you you're average.. you just couldn't believe it. Looking in the mirror all you could see was piles of fat.

You push the back of your toothbrush down your throat, gagging almost silently as the first few things came up. You recognized some chocolate, veggies, something.. red.. you didn't want to think about it too much as you shoved the toothbrush back down your throat. You watched as everything you ate came up opposite to the order you had it in.

Finally, you recognize barely chewed lumps of cereal fall into the toilet, and after you throw up stomach acid mixed with dark blood, you sigh, wipe your mouth and stand up, flushing the toilet, and clean yourself up.

Walking out of the bathroom, you see the kitchen lights on. Fuck. You could've sworn you turned those off.

Your ginger haired boyfriend turns the corner from the kitchen, looking you dead in the eyes with disappointment on his face. You wished you could just evaporate. "Love, what is this?" He sounded.. exasperated. Tired of you, tired of your illness, tired of having a girlfriend who can't just eat normally. You were tired of it too, but the Internet made recovery seem so much easier than it really was.

Tears flow out of your eyes as you wipe the remaining spit dribbling from your mouth away. "Did you throw up?" He sighs.. you can't tell if he's being sympathetic or if he's annoyed. Maybe both. All you can muster is a nod before you fall into his chest, letting out broken sobs and choking out apologies. From where you are you can glance into the kitchen, noticing he had cleaned up the little mess you made.

God, not only did he have to deal with such an emotional, disordered girlfriend.. he had to clean up after you too? You felt like such a terrible person, like you didn't deserve his love.

"Cmon, sweetie, let's go to bed. Let me tuck you in." He mutters sleepily. "Don't apologize.. don't apologize, it's not your fault. You know I'm not mad." His whispers comfort you and make you feel worse at the same time, you didn't understand it. "I'm not mad, just worried. I could never be mad at you." He speaks softly, nudging you towards the open door of your bedroom.

You whimper and sniffle as he tucks you into bed, before getting back in himself and wrapping his arms around your waist. He leans in, whispering sweet nothing's in your ear, tracing shapes in your hip, telling you you're beautiful and it'll all be okay until you fall asleep.

When you wake up the next morning, Chuuya isn't there. He must've gone to work already. You see a small note on the bedside table next to you, and hesitantly pick it up to read its contents.

"Hey doll, I'm sorry I left for work before we could talk about this in-person, and I definitely have a plan to speak to you about it tonight. But I wanted to let you know I'm not mad at you, nor am I upset with you, I'm just concerned for your well-being and safety. I want to get you into some treatment program because I'm not trained in this, and I don't really know how to help. I know this isn't entirely about your weight or how your body looks, but baby believe me when I say you're beautiful. You are the most gorgeous girl I have ever laid my eyes on and I am so lucky to have you. You are not 'too much' and your emotional baggage is not too much for me to carry. Even if it was, it's worth it for a girl as sweet and caring as you.

Love, Chuuya"

You hold the note close to your chest and push yourself backwards into bed, draping the covers over yourself and falling back asleep with his letter held close.

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