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trainer-from-unova · 3 days ago

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contagious

english ao3 Ⓢ spanish ao3 Ⓢ masterlist Ⓢ 𝄞

ship: robert reynolds x oxe nurse afab!reader

summary: bob will not hurt anyone if you stay at his side, so you stay with him even if you don't want to. "nurse then a servant, just an appendage live to attend him so that he never lifts a finger"

au: canon divergence, oxe experimented on bob inside the vault, bob is a superhero, bob obeys val, sentry living homelander's life but without a team

c/w: the dove is alive and you can eat it but have in mind that there's a dove, horrible day at work for poor y/n, kidnapping and stockholm syndrome but not really but the vibes are there, you're his trophy ...and maybe much more, forced bonding and relationship, nurse/patient, boss/assistant, minor character death, light angst, mentions of mental illness and instability, open happy ending, humor, consensual sex, piv sex, unsafe sex, semi-public/bathroom quickie

a/n: his hair isn't described so you can imagine him blond or brunette, and english isn't my first language so sorry if something's weird expressed and even if you read it here please leave a kudo in ao3!

word count: 4169

It had probably been the craziest and most intense night of her life, and she was sure it had been the craziest and most intense night of the others, especially the military she was assisting. She had hardly slept, eaten or drank — but at least she wasn't hurt, she was just too busy ...and worried. Not for her in particular, but for all the people who had been injured, and those who might be injured in the future by him and 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

She was checking the wounds of a serviceman when she heard a commotion that caught her attention, a crowd of able-bodied servicemen heading towards her. For a moment she thought maybe they were going to bring her more patients, ask about the condition of their comrades or something like that. She didn't expect them to come after her, leaving her no time to react and try to resist, handcuffing her feet, hands and even a muzzle like Loki after the famous battle in New York.

It's as if her mind had been read, because while she was wondering what was going on and why she was being treated like that, Mel appeared and approached her to inform her, not very enthusiastically:

"He* wants you... I'm sorry."

She wished she could have slept on the helicopter flight to New York, but it was so short and she was so confused, nervous and scared that it was impossible. All that was compounded when she arrived at her apparent destination: The Watchtower.

When they helped her off the helicopter they made her walk across the helipad to the inside of the penthouse. To her surprise there was Valentina, and next to her was Bob, completely changed — he looked like someone else. The place was turned upside down, with broken glass on the floor, broken furniture, bullets and some traces of blood. She guessed what had happened, and all the aforementioned sensations were further aggravated. She looked worriedly at Bob as he slowly approached her, reaching up to remove all the handcuffs and muzzle with his telekinetic powers, causing them to fall to the ground.

She had the option to speak now, and she had many questions on her mind — so many that she didn't dare ask any of them out loud, as she didn't know where to start.

"It's time for you to go," he said raising his arm, looking at the soldiers behind her and to her sides.

"No!" she said worriedly, stepping forward. "Please don't hurt them."

"Yeah, listen to her and behave yourself," said Valentina a few metres away from them, in front of her and behind him. She looked at her, just as she looked at Mel standing next to her. "That was the deal."

At first she thought it was Valentina who wanted her, but now she was seeing that she was completely wrong. She looked back at his arm, which was still raised, but now, instead of being in attacking form towards the soldiers, he was holding out his hand for her to approach him and merge with him in a grip.

"What do you want from me?" she asked with bated breath.

"Everything," he answered, very sure of his answer. She had never seen him so sure.

Being a nurse she'd had enough of a run-in with him, you could say they'd grown fond of each other (even though she knew she shouldn't feel that way about him for many reasons) and had a good bond. It shouldn't surprise her that someone as traumatised, disturbed and lonely as he was had fallen in love with her when he was under her care. She knew of many cases of patients falling in love with nurses and viceversa, it was like Stockholm Syndrome.

"You won't hurt anyone?"

"If you're next to me."

She wasn't thrilled with the idea, but did she have any other choice...? He was out of control, mentally unstable, and her freedom had to be the sacrifice. Maybe she couldn't change him, but she could control him so that he wouldn't hurt anyone.

"...Then so be it," she said as she approached him and accepted his hand, causing him to smile sweetly and shyly at her. She knew herself well and always knew she was very helpful, but she never imagined she would be so helpful. That's why she became a nurse — it was vocational, she always wanted to help.

"And I now pronounce you man and wife," said Valentina rolling her eyes. "But the honeymoon has to wait, the press is waiting downstairs," she said pointing behind her, turning to head for the lift with Mel.

"There's a bed upstairs, take a rest, okay?" he reported as he stroked her hand with his thumb, before releasing it and going to the other two women's side.

She couldn't, or rather, shouldn't be surprised at such a change of mood. She nodded doubtfully and watched him walk away as she listened to Mel inform Valentina that the cleaning service was on its way to clean up the mess. She stood there, processing it all and feeling his eyes on her until the lift doors closed. The military stood there, and wanting to be alone and rest (if only physically) she took Bob's advice, going upstairs and into the bedroom there. She knew that, military or not, she had no way to escape, and if she did she would probably make the situation worse and not be able to run far.

The decor was sparse and the lighting horrible, but there was a television, so she turned it on to watch even a little of the press conference while she looked around the bedroom, full of hairdressing tools and fashion designs. She browsed the hangers on the dressers and the papers she found while occasionally glancing up to look at the screen, but always paying attention to what was being said. When there was nothing more to look at she lay back on the bed, watching Bob on the screen.

If he didn't excuse himself then she would excuse him: she knew that all this wasn't his fault, that he was only a victim of his circumstances, just as she was now. He was alone and needed company, and above all love. She didn't have the feeling that he was going to treat her badly in any way, but she was shocked and nervous about how her life was going to change from that moment on, so she couldn't help crying. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, exhausting her further and causing her to fall asleep.

Maybe to say that she was kidnapped was too strong a word, but she was very limited and watched over by Bob, Valentina and her employees. And unfortunately no one missed her, as she had no family left and the few friends she had could be counted on the fingers of one hand, apart from the fact that for work and personal reasons she had lost contact and trust with them. They were the typical friends who only met every few months to catch up over a drink.

So much studying nursing for nothing... But she was still getting a salary, a good one. Now her job was to live with Bob, and as unstable as he was it was sometimes difficult, but she always tried to be loving and put on her best face. She had to raise his self-esteem when it was too low and lower it when it was too high. She had to calm his delusions of grandeur, reminding him why he took the serum to convince him to do good and not to kill anyone, especially Valentina. She always wanted ______ to be present whenever she met with him, even for boring marketing meetings.

But she was a heroine, in her own way. Part of her felt useful and satisfied to know that by being by his side she saved many, and apparently himself as well. She couldn't help but begin to feel special that she was so loved by a God, however prefabricated and mentally unstable. Besides, he told her she was a Goddess — his Goddess.

Luckily it wasn't all bad. Now she lived for free in the penthouse of a skyscraper with incredible views of Manhattan, she had maid and kitchen service that did everything for them, and Bob didn't force her to do anything that made her uncomfortable — he just wanted to hold hands, hug her, cuddle with her, have her stroke his hair... At most he dared to kiss her on the cheek and look at her lips too much.

But touch makes affection. As time went on, and in the moments when he was mentally stable and cheerful, she couldn't help but begin to find him adorable. Nothing was a lie anymore, nothing was forced anymore: the hugs, the cuddling... Even holding his hand was now natural, and she had even started to kiss him on the cheek as well. The first time she dared to do so, she couldn't help but laugh when she saw his surprised face, and how shy and blushing he became. She also blushed when he dared to compliment her, and the instinct to protect him intensified.

At first she had told him to go on dates as an excuse to get out of the tower, now it was because she really enjoyed his company. And to be honest, she didn't feel so lonely anymore. Bob had filled a big void in her life, and she even missed him when she was away from home on a mission. She used to go to museums and other places alone, now she went with him, holding his hand.

"It's beautiful," he whispered looking at the painting in front of them, a romantic scene between a couple from several centuries ago.

"You know," she said in the same tone, catching his attention. "When I was a kid I thought people in the past were very serious, because they posed like that in pictures in Victorian times. Then I found out that they posed like that because they had to stand still for a long time to get the picture right, and seeing pictures like this you realise that they actually loved just like we do, which makes sense, because we're all alive because two people loved each other."

"It's a very romantic way of looking at things," he said looking at her with a touch of tenderness. One of the many things he liked about her was her way of looking at life. Knowing her he understood the meaning of the word "kind".

"Yeah, well," she said, blushing slightly, "I suppose."

"Excuse me," said a female voice behind them, and they both thought it was some fan asking for a photo, since he was a public figure. They both turned and saw a girl, teenager or young adult, with a small sheet of paper in her hand, offering it to them. In the other hand she was holding a small notebook. "I've drawn you," she said shyly.

"Oh my God!" she said, taking it. They both stared at it, amazed and touched. The drawing was done in charcoal pencil and showed them with their backs to each other, holding hands in front of a vertical rectangle that symbolised a painting. "It's the most beautiful thing I've seen here today," she said, and both he and the girl laughed.

"No way," said the girl, blushing.

"It's beautiful, really!" said Bob. "Thank you very much."

"Can we keep it?" she asked, curious and hoping for a positive answer.

"Yeah, of course!" replied the girl.

"Thank you," smiled Bob.

"You haven't credited it," she said, turning the paper over to see if there were any credit behind it, "don't you have an art account?"

"Oh, yeah," she said shyly, "but..." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, you should. Could I follow you on Instagram, if you have one?" she asked, handing the picture to Bob to hold while she pulled her mobile phone out of a pocket.

She said yes and told her her Instagram art account. She followed her and then the girl asked if she could take a picture with him, just him. She laughed, because of course she wanted a photo with him. She didn't take it badly, she understood her because if she came across a celebrity with its partner she obviously wouldn't want to take a photo with the partner in it. She took a picture of them together with her mobile phone and the girl left the room where they were. The picture ended up on the fridge in the attic with a magnet.

But was she his partner? For most people, yeah. She wasn't a public figure, but she went everywhere with him so everyone, from press of all kinds to internet users and other workers in the tower, assumed she was his assistant or his partner or both. For Valentina she was, for Mel she was, she had told her few friends that she was (because the truth was too embarrassing and complicated and she didn't want any trouble)... Even for him it was, and even if she didn't have a choice and there were couple things they didn't do (yet) she also started to consider herself as such. She knew she shouldn't feel that way after all she had been through and sometimes she felt annoyed with herself and even with him inside herself, and although she tried to curb that feeling in the end she let it flow, knowing that it was probably the best option whether or not it was a defence mechanism in her brain. With him she discovered that Stockholm Syndrome was contagious.

"You'll be fine," she reminded him, holding his hands to keep him still and comfort him minutes before an interview, waiting for the press to finish setting up. He kept pacing back and forth and adjusting his suit wristbands.

"I'm tired of so many interviews," he said, annoyed and weary.

"People want to meet you, it's only natural..." She shrugged her shoulders. "Show them the man I love," she said, smiling sweetly as he tightened her grip on his hands.

"...What?" he asked confused and surprised. In this relationship he was the only one who said such things to the other, until now. At first he knew she didn't love him in the same way he did, but he knew she was fond of him and trusted that she would love him back in time. He couldn't have imagined it would happen so soon, it had barely been three months since their relationship began. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. "Really?" he said looking at her lips for a microsecond.

"Really," she said still smiling in the same way, releasing him and placing a hand on one of his shoulders and the other on one of his cheeks as she stood on her tiptoes, removing what little distance there was between them and fusing their lips together once and for all.

It was hard for him to react at first, but in the end, as expected, he kissed her back slowly to make the moment last as long as possible while holding her by the waist. He had to pull away from her, but not for lack of air.

"I've waited a long time for this..." He said in a whisper, his breath hitching as his gaze went from her eyes to her lips and from her lips to her eyes, over and over again. "But now really is the worst time because I'm going to get an erection."

"Fuck- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" she said, surprised and blushing but trying not to laugh, putting a hand to her mouth. "I just wanted to cheer you up, but yeah, I should have thought of that," she said embarrassed, "sorry."

"No no, don't worry, it was wonderful," he said as he shook his head, still holding her close to him.

"Cross your legs or use the cape as a blanket, I'll deal with it later."

"Really?" he asked again in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, you'd better fuck me later," she said in a whisper, so light that if she had lowered her voice any further he would have had to read her lips. She looked at him seriously but smiling, trying to make him see that she was sure and that she wanted it as much as he did.

"I could do it right now," he said, his voice deeper and his eyes hungrier. "Fuck the interview," he said trying to pull her closer to him if possible, to make her feel how impatient he was, but even though she was looking forward to it as much as he was, she had to be the voice of reason.

"No honey," she said with a laugh. "It's too late to cancel, and you must do it. The sooner you finish it the sooner we can... Okay?"

"All right," he said as annoyed as a small child, which again made her laugh.

They parted but only briefly, for he took her by the hand to go with her to where the interview was to take place, so that, as usual, she would be present behind the cameras. And the interview was hilarious — she couldn't help but laugh every time she saw him settling into the seat where he was sitting, closing his legs, covering himself with his hands as discreetly as possible, trying to use his cloak as a blanket as she had advised... You could see how nervous he was in his hands and eyes, and she didn't know if it was because of the interview or because of what had just happened and what was going to happen soon or both, but it made the situation worse when their gazes connected in the moments when he wasn't looking at the interviewer. At those moments they both couldn't help but blush and had to try to hold in their laughter, even though it was an interview that wasn't being broadcast live.

"Excuse me, where's the bathroom?" he asked a worker as soon as the interview was over. "It's urgent," he clarified, and as soon as he was answered he went straight in her direction to take her hand again, leaving and going to where he had been told as quickly as possible.

"You should be more discreet," she said embarrassed but at the same time laughing as she slung her bag over her shoulder. The situation was surreal.

"I can't be in this outfit!" he replied, just as her.

And when they reached the bathroom he had to restrain himself from blowing the door off with his powers. A man standing there, pissing into a chamber pot, was startled to see them enter because the door burst open, because it was him (and looking like that) entering the place, and accompanied by a woman, who shouldn't be there as it was a male bathroom.

"Uh- Sorry!" she replied embarrassed. "It's just that I have to help him get undressed..." she laughed nervously as they walked towards a cubicle at the end of the room, but she wasn't really lying and just by looking at him you could tell it wasn't an easy suit to put on or take off.

As soon as they were locked in the cubicle he had chosen he put her against the wall, leaning over to kiss her passionately with tongue included while she tried to make as little noise as possible by holding her moans in her throat and taking her purse off her shoulder. Luckily the toilet seat was down and she was able to drop it on the lid, almost throwing it over it. Then she tried to pull his cloak away from his back with her sense of touch in search of the zip on his back. Also luckily that man was soon gone, but Bob's phone, which was in her bag, rang. They both ignored it.

"See why I hate this suit?" he said as they parted, to let her breathe. She nodded anxiously as he reached down to her trousers to pull them down, including her panties. And then her mobile rang, in her pocket. You didn't have to be very smart to know who it was. They both looked at each other annoyed by the situation, but she decided to pick it up, not to answer but to ask not to be disturbed any more as he tried to remove his bracelets.

"Where are you!?" said Mel, stressed as she grabbed them from him and put them in her bag with her free hand. "Val-"

"Too busy!" She said annoyed, motioning for him to turn around to help him unzip his back. "Honeymoon! Give us ten minutes!"

"Ugh-" and they both hung up at the same time.

If they had ten minutes, five were to help him get out of his suit, and he couldn't even get it all off. As soon as he was able to undress his crotch, revealing his muscular pecs and arms (and more parts of his body), they stopped trying to undress him. Good thing he wasn't wearing boxer shorts (because they would wrinkle and show too much, according to the fashion department better to just show off his pack). The top of the suit fell in front of his legs, on the floor.

They would have preferred to do it sitting down or with him holding her buttocks and legs against the wall, but the quickest option was to do it from behind, with one of her knees on the toilet seat and holding on to the cistern while he grabbed her hips.

They would both have liked the situation to be more romantic, comfortable, slow and intimate, but Bob wanted to make her completely his once and for all, he couldn't wait any longer, he'd had enough patience for months and the amorous confession and kiss earlier had provoked him too much, so he grabbed the tip of his cock and brushed her wet lips to make his way in without much decorum.

They both tried to choke their moans in their throats as he filled the void inside her, and she tried to hold on tighter. Instead Bob's hands gripped her waist to ram her, back and forth, watching victoriously as his cock disappeared inside her. He had daydreamed about it many times, in the company of his dominant hand.

He rammed her hard and fast, and she rested her forehead on her hands as she bit her lip, making a great effort not to moan, more and more. But she couldn't help moaning as her orgasm came, arching her back and spasming, but he gripped her tightly to keep her still and from slipping away, feeling her throbbing insides clinging to him.

That he was invincible and powerful meant he couldn't get tired, but it didn't mean he could hold back his orgasm if he was too aroused. Instantly he had to pull out of her, cumming on one of her buttocks as he groaned. He would have preferred inside, but he loved the sight of her bare buttocks with his semen as she tried to catch her breath and craned her neck to look up at him with narrowed eyes and flushed cheeks.

He reached out to grab toilet paper from the dispenser to wipe her and himself, but when he noticed the cardboard cartridge with no paper at all he panicked.

"There's no paper," he said nervously in a whisper.

"Wait..." she said opening her bag between the back of the toilet and her knee to find a small packet of wet wipes. She handed it to him and he opened it, wiping her first and then him. "Thank you."

When she got up from the toilet she pulled up her panties as she turned around, pulled up her trousers and then helped him get dressed. When they were ready to leave the cubicle she grabbed her bag to put it on her shoulder again, but suddenly he hugged her. She was so taken by surprise by the gesture that she laughed quietly, but she also returned the gesture with a smile on her face as she stood on her tiptoes to catch him, resting her chin on one of his shoulders.

"I know this hasn't been the most romantic first time, but... I'll make it up to you," he whispered in her ear.

"Tonight?" she asked in his ear, tossing out the idea.

"Tonight?" he asked surprised but pleased with the idea as he pulled away from her to watch her facial expression. She laughed, put her hand on his cheek to stand on her tiptoes again and give him a quick kiss on the lips as they both grinned from ear to ear.

* I imagined and wrote this originally in Spanish and in Spanish that phrase doesn't indicate the gender of the person who wants her... Hence the mystery and the revelation later.

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mandoalorian · 3 days ago

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lessons in hurt [bucky barnes x f!reader]

pairing: new avenger!bucky x f!reader

synopsis: you step into the ring, hungry, exhausted, and furious at him, at yourself, at everything unspoken. but training brings more than bruises; it unearths something buried, dangerous, and deeply yours. later, around the table and under someone else's gaze, you're reminded that every look lingers too long, and trust is a battleground all its own.

word count: 5500

warnings: 18+ for eventual smut, enemies to lovers, thunderbolts* spoilers, alcohol mention, training/fighting, mention of family member death, avengers tower fic

masterlist

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You were dreaming of warmth.

Not the kind from sunlight or fire, but something steady and human. Something that wrapped around your waist and caught you before you could fall. Your cheek had rested against a chest — solid, unyielding, and warm — and you'd looked up, not to read an aura, but to look. Really look.

“No, I’m just looking at you.”

And then he’d blushed.

“Hey—uh, you alive in there?”

A loud knock rattled the guest room door, dragging you out of sleep. You groaned into the pillow, blinking into the daylight slicing through the blinds.

“Because if you are, Bucky said you’re two hours late to training, and uh— he kinda looks like he’s holding a grudge.”

“Shit,” you croaked, scrambling up. “What time is it?”

“That's what I thought,” Bob called back, amused. “It’s 8 o’clock. Yelena says you’re lucky he didn’t kick the door down.”

You threw the blanket off and sat up too fast. The pounding in your head reminded you exactly how many shots you’d taken. The floor swayed beneath your feet as you stood, and you winced as you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. Last night’s makeup still clung to your lashes, and your hair looked like you’d been in a wind tunnel. Which, emotionally, you had.

You searched the room for something to wear, but had nothing other than the clothes you slept in. The clothes you wore yesterday. You sighed. You could really do with a shower, clean clothes, some painkillers. But Bucky had already been waiting this long.

The corners of your lips turned into a deepset frown. You didn’t care that Bucky was waiting for you. He was holding a grudge? Good. But you did want to be taken seriously as an Avenger. You didn’t want Sam to have been wrong about you. This was your chance to do something right.

That kitchen moment felt… dangerous. You hadn’t meant to fall — literally, of course— but the way he’d caught you had felt like muscle memory. Like he'd done it before. Like he'd do it again.

And when you’d stared at him — just stared — something in you had cracked open. Not your powers. Not your hate.

Something soft.

You shoved the thought down, your stomach twisting, Chinese food from last night threatening to come back up, and stumbled into the hallway barefoot.

Bob was leaning against the wall with a punnet of strawberries in one hand and a mischievous smile on his face.

“I made you coffee,” he said. “Sort of. It’s mostly cream and sugar, but it’s a start.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, accepting the travel mug and squinting at him. “You found your strawberries?”

Bob didn’t answer, but he did offer you a shy smile and held them out to you, offering you one. “How did you sleep?”

“Um, pretty well actually,” you said as if it surprised you. You normally struggle sleeping in beds that aren’t your own. “But I don’t remember even going to bed. Is Sam around?”

“No, he and Joaquin left pretty late on. You stayed. And uh— he’ll be coming over later though. For the briefing with Valentina.”

You considered his words, taking a sip and burning your tongue. “Ow.”

“Good,” he grinned. “Now, hurry up before Sergeant Barnes turns into the Winter Soldier again.”

You shot him a glare, but your stomach twisted anyway.

Training.

With him.

────✪────

You stepped onto the training floor groggy and under-caffeinated, Bob’s concoction of cream and sugar really not doing much for you. The distant hum of ventilation was the only thing greeting you.

Until he did.

Bucky.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just kept going — relentless, rhythmic. Each thud of his fist into the heavy bag echoed through the high ceilings, almost hypnotic. He was shirtless under a skin-tight, sweat-drenched compression top, black and clinging, highlighting every carved plane of muscle like it was sculpted by hand. Veins coiled down his arms like cords of steel, biceps flexing, fists slicing through air with machine precision.

His hair was tied back in a loose bun, messy strands clinging to his temples. There was sweat beading down his neck, dripping along his jaw, catching in the stubble that darkened his sharp jawline.

God, he looked unfair.

You didn’t realise you’d stopped moving until he noticed you standing in the doorway.

“You gonna keep staring, or will we do some training?”

God. You wanted to throw a dumbbell at him.

“Maybe I’m making a list of your weak spots,” you shot back, stepping further into the room.

He stopped punching. The bag swayed, creaking faintly on its chain.

“You’re late,” he said.

“And you’re still insufferable,” you countered, tossing your bag aside. “Glad some things never change.”

He didn’t bite. Just grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his neck. His eyes flicked to you briefly, and then he walked to a metal rack and pulled out folded black tactical gear. He tossed it toward you, hard enough that you had to catch it with both hands.

“Put it on. You’re not sparring me in leggings and a sweater.”

You frowned at the clothes, then at him. “You know, for someone with an old-fashioned sense of manners, you’re weirdly bossy.”

“You can complain after you can land a hit on me.”

You raised your brows. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“It’s a fact.”

Ugh.

You turned away, heading to the locker room to change. “Also, I’m starving,” you called back. “Pretty sure that violates some Geneva Convention clause.”

“You can eat after training,” he called back, tone smug.

You didn’t dignify it with a response. Mostly because you knew you’d fantasised about punching him in the jaw a little too often to back out now.

When you returned, you were annoyed to admit the gear actually fit perfectly — snug, flexible, and breathable. A black long-sleeve top with reinforced padding and utility leggings built for combat, your hair pulled back, eyes sharp.

You climbed into the ring, not even trying to hide the attitude in your strut.

But Bucky was already watching you. Closely. Still leaning on the ropes, arms crossed. Still sweating. Still radiating heat like a living furnace.

The look in his eyes wasn’t cold. It wasn’t smug, either.

It was… cautious. Measured. Heavy with something you couldn’t quite name.

“You said something last night.”

Your stomach sank.

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “God. Is this about the whole looking at you thing?”

His jaw tensed. “Yes.”

He had been thinking about it too. You looked off to the side, jaw clenching. “I was drunk.”

“Were you reading me?” he asked flatly.

The question pulled you back to face him.

“No,” you said. “I wasn’t. I told you that.”

He didn’t move. Just watched you like a man waiting for the catch.

You hated this about him — the way he looked at you like you were a puzzle he wasn’t sure he wanted to solve. Like you were dangerous. Like he was the one who should be afraid.

“I don’t want people in my head,” he said, voice quieter now. “There’s… stuff in there. Stuff that doesn’t belong anywhere near someone like you.”

You bristled. “Someone like me?”

“Someone who hasn’t done what I’ve done.”

You paused. The air shifted between you. A faint vibration of memory. The Winter Soldier. Your brother’s grave.

It bubbled up again. That familiar coil of hatred, like bile in your throat.

“I wasn’t reading you,” you said again, more forcefully this time. “I was just—” You hesitated. “I don’t know. Looking. You looked different. Okay? God forbid.”

His brow twitched like he didn’t know what to do with that. Like you were the confusing one.

You softened just enough to twist the knife. “Don’t flatter yourself, Barnes. You just look weird when you’re not scowling.”

That earned you the ghost of a smirk. “You’re impossible.”

You shrugged. “You’re punchable.”

And then, for the first time since you stepped into that ring, something shifted in his eyes.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, backing toward the centre.

You cracked your knuckles, lips twitching into a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

The first time you lunged at him, he barely moved.

You aimed straight for his torso, a solid punch backed by every hour of sleepless rage you’d ever swallowed. But Bucky didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Your fist collided with his chest like hitting a wall.

Solid muscle. No give.

He looked down at you, deadpan.

“You hit like you’re trying to scare me,” he sighed, almost impatiently. Unimpressed, even. God, you couldn’t stand him.

You stepped back, shaking out your hand. “And you stand like you’ve got a steel rod up your ass.”

“Try again,” he ordered, tone clipped.

You did.

And again.

He blocked everything. Dodged some. Absorbed others. He flipped you once — then twice — then a third time until your back hit the mat so hard your breath left in a gasp. You groaned, rolling to your side.

Bucky crouched next to you. “Where’s the fire, doll?”

Doll.

“Buried under my rapidly growing hatred for you,” you muttered, getting up.

“Then use it.”

“What?”

He straightened. “You hate me, right?” he said, stepping closer. “You’ve made that crystal clear. So show me. Stop holding back.”

You froze, fists clenched.

This wasn’t just training anymore. He wanted your anger.

“Do you want me to hate you?” you asked.

He shrugged. “It’s useful.”

You hated that it was true.

So you moved. Again. This time faster, sharper — jabs and elbows, knees and dodges. He still blocked everything. Still used your momentum against you. Still knocked you on your ass more times than your pride could take.

“You’re not focused,” he said. “You’re distracted.”

“I’m starving,” you spat.

“You’re afraid,” he snapped back.

That stopped you cold.

You blinked at him, sweat stinging your eyes.

“You think I don’t see it?” he said, stepping closer. “You’re strong, but you’re scared of what happens when you lose control.”

Your jaw clenched.

He tilted his head slightly. “So stop being afraid.”

“You have no idea what’s inside me,” you growled.

“Then show me.”

The world stilled.

He should be scared, but he wasn’t. He was encouraging and bringing it out of you. That unnamed thing that lived deep within you, locked away for nobody to see. It was revelling under your skin, threatening to spill.

Something inside you twisted — dark, hot, and electric. The pressure that lived in your bones suddenly surged. Not anger. Not fear.

Power.

You lunged again, fists crackling with that strange invisible current, not aimed at technique, but at release. At destruction.

And when your palm slammed into Bucky’s chest, the force exploded.

A wave of concussive energy knocked you both off your feet. Bucky flew backward and slammed into the mat with a grunt, skidding across the floor.

You were thrown too — landing hard, the wind knocked out of you. Everything felt momentarily underwater. Ringing in your ears. Muscles spasming.

The lights above flickered.

And then — silence.

You blinked up at the ceiling, chest heaving. Arms trembling. The scent of sweat and ozone hung in the air.

To your right, Bucky groaned. He turned his head toward you, hair fallen from its tie, face flushed, chest rising and falling.

You were the first to speak.

“…Did I kill you?”

He let out a short breath, almost a laugh. “Not even close.”

You swallowed hard. Your limbs were still shaking.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“That was good,” he cut in, voice low but certain.

You turned your head toward him. His expression wasn’t scared. Or angry. Or even surprised.

It was something else.

Pride.

“You’re not broken,” he said. “You’re just holding yourself back.”

You stared at him, still breathless. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Well,” he murmured, eyes still on yours. “Now you do.”

And for a moment — just a breath — the hatred fell away.

Not gone. Not forgotten. But quiet.

Like maybe… just maybe… you weren’t the only one haunted by what lived under your skin.

Your body was humming. Not from adrenaline — not even from pain.

But from something darker. Deeper.

That thing inside you, the one you kept locked behind your teeth, now stirred in the open air. The same surge that had knocked Bucky clean off his feet now crackled quietly in your fingertips. And it terrified you.

You stayed on your back, staring up at the ceiling, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. Sweat clung to your skin. Your pulse was thunder in your ears.

A shadow moved to your right — slow, careful.

Then Bucky’s voice: “You okay?”

You didn’t answer.

Instead, your fingers curled into fists, knuckles grazing the mat. He crawled toward you, his breath still uneven, his shirt stretched tight across the chest you’d just exploded into like a live wire.

“You did good,” he said softly, crouching over you, one hand braced beside your head.

You flinched.

Then shoved him off.

He let you, falling back onto his haunches, watching you warily like he knew exactly what was happening inside you.

“I don’t feel good,” you finally whispered.

He didn’t move. Just listened.

“I feel… angry. I feel wrong. I—”

Your voice cracked. You didn’t finish the sentence.

Bucky swallowed hard. “Have you ever done that before?” he asked, quieter now.

You gave the smallest nod.

Silent.

A tear slid down your temple.

He watched it trace the line of your cheek and didn’t say anything for a long moment.

Then: “Training’s over.”

You turned your face away, shame clinging to your skin like a second layer of sweat. You didn’t want him to see you cry. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this — trembling, unmade.

Bucky rose to his feet slowly. He hesitated, then held out a hand toward you.

“You did good,” he said again — firmer this time. Like if he said it enough, you might believe him.

But you didn’t take it.

You sat up on your own, wiping your face with the back of your wrist. Your chest still ached. Not from the impact, but from the way you felt split down the middle — like something sacred inside you had been broken open for everyone to see.

You could barely look at him.

And that’s when you heard the sound.

Shoes on the mat.

You both turned toward the door at the same time.

Sam stood there, framed in the doorway. His brow was lifted, eyes flicking between the two of you — you on the floor, breathless and tear-streaked, and Bucky hovering nearby with that look on his face that was always too intense, too protective.

Sam’s lips parted like he was going to say something — but he didn’t.

Instead, he blinked. Jaw tightened. Then he gave a short nod and turned on his heel.

Gone.

You stared at the now-empty doorway.

Bucky let out a breath behind you. “Shit,” he muttered.

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t.

He crouched beside you again, this time at a distance. “What happened back there,” he said gently, “that wasn’t a mistake. That was power. You think you’re a monster, but you’re not.”

You shook your head. “You don’t know that.”

His voice was quiet. “I do.”

You stayed silent.

The power inside you had finally risen — and all it had done was destroy. You didn’t feel proud. You didn’t feel strong.

You felt dangerous.

And you hated that most of all.

────✪────

The sting of exhaustion still clung to you when you entered the kitchen. Your muscles felt like jelly, the heat from the shower having only halfway quelled the burn of your power’s surge. You didn't have the energy for much more than food, but the last thing you expected was to feel the same tension that had thrummed through the training room now sitting heavily in the air.

Bucky was already seated at the table, silent as usual, his plate piled high with food. His eyes flicked toward you when you entered, but he didn’t say anything. His presence was still undeniable though — that heat, that pull. You could still feel it from the floor to your chest as if something between you was drawing you together despite your best efforts to ignore it.

You sat down without a word, grabbing some toast and a half-hearted serving of scrambled eggs. Your mind kept drifting back to the moment when Bucky had come over to check on you, his hands brushing against you as you’d both collapsed after that surge. You could still feel the weight of his touch, that warmth that had been foreign, almost comforting. You pushed it down. He was your enemy, nothing more.

"Rough session, huh?" Bob said from across the table, already munching on some bacon, his voice lighthearted.

You grunted in response, staring down at your food, not really hungry but forcing yourself to eat.

Alexei, always the cheerful giant, threw you a wide grin. "You looked like you could use some real food after that," he said, tossing you an extra piece of toast.

"Thanks," you muttered, tearing into it just to fill the silence.

But there was something in the air now. Sam walked in, his eyes catching yours immediately. He froze for just a moment, his gaze narrowing. You could almost feel the gears turning in his head. And you knew why. He had seen you so close to Bucky, maybe even noticed the way you’d both been caught up in that moment — the moment you both collapsed on the mat together, barely breathing, the electric tension between you thick enough to slice.

You didn’t look at Sam. Instead, you focused on your food, but you could feel the weight of his eyes on you. He moved toward the counter to grab a coffee mug, his motions stiff, like he was trying to hide something.

Alexei, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, tried to break the awkwardness. “Walker," he boomed, looking at John, who had just entered the kitchen. "You’re too serious, man. You need to loosen up.”

John scoffed and gave a fake chuckle. “Loosen up? I’m perfectly fine.”

“You need to try this,” Alexei grinned, offering John some more eggs. “You’re all stiff.”

Bucky, ever so aware of the mood, suddenly spoke. His voice was low, but his eyes flicked between you and Sam, his jaw tight. "You need to eat something," he said, his tone matter-of-fact, as though the silence didn’t exist, as though the strange, unresolved tension wasn’t thick in the air.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, not meeting anyone’s gaze, but Sam’s stare was burning a hole in your side. You could feel it. Could feel the weight of his thoughts.

Bucky seemed to notice. He didn’t speak at first but gave you a pointed look. His brow furrowed, but then he looked toward Sam, who had been standing at the counter.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t move toward the table right away, his hand hovering near his mug. The silence stretched too long before he finally dropped his hand to the counter with a sigh. He looked over at you again, his jaw slightly clenched.

"Is there a problem?" you finally asked, your voice flat, a little defensive, like you were daring him to say something, anything.

But Sam just shook his head, his mouth pressing into a thin line. "No, just…" He seemed to lose his words, looking back at Bucky. "Everything’s fine."

Alexei, ever the enthusiastic one, laughed loudly. "What do you mean, fine? You guys have been so serious this morning. Can’t we just eat and laugh for once?"

“You’re right,” Bob chimed in, shovelling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “We could use some fun. How about some more never have I ever, but instead of shots, we drink coffee?”

The suggestion broke the tension a little, though you could still feel Sam’s eyes lingering. You finally looked at him — really looked. He was holding your gaze for a second too long, his expression focused, as if he was weighing something he wasn’t ready to say. You honed in, reading his aura. Amber: cautious, nervous and insecure.

Weird.

“Fine,” you muttered. “Never have I ever...” You started to reach for your cup, but it was clear Sam still wasn’t ready to let go of whatever strange, unspoken thing was happening between you two.

Bucky cleared his throat, looking at both of you. "Enough," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "We’ve got a mission tonight. Eat, relax, but keep it together." His eyes flicked over to you again, then to Sam. It was almost like he was silently checking you both, and then he dropped his gaze.

You didn't respond, not really, but you felt a strange sense of distance as you sat back and continued to eat, though your mind kept returning to that moment in the training room.

You reminded yourself of why you were here, your personal mission and what was at stake.

────✪────

The hum of the tower felt empty as you walked through its expansive hallways, your mind racing with the aftermath of the intense training. You needed a moment of peace, but all you could feel was the pressure of Sam’s gaze. He had been quieter than usual today, and now that you were alone in the hallway, you knew the moment was coming.

You stopped in front of the window, trying to lose yourself in the view of the city, but you couldn’t escape the heavy silence between you and Sam. His footsteps echoed closer, and you knew he wasn’t going to let this go.

“You’re avoiding me,” Sam’s voice was low, but the edge was unmistakable.

You kept your eyes on the skyline, unwilling to face him, not yet. “Just thinking,” you muttered.

Sam didn’t buy it. He moved to stand next to you, blocking your view. “Thinking about what? About Bucky?” He didn’t say it with accusation, but the question made the air between you two feel thick. “You two were pretty close back there. Seemed a little more than ‘training.’”

Your stomach tightened at his words. A spike of annoyance flared up inside you. Close? The last thing you wanted was for Sam to think that. You were not close with Bucky.

“Seriously?” you scoffed, looking at Sam now. “You’re going to ask me about that?”

Sam’s eyes were sharp. He was watching you closely, his expression almost unreadable, but the slight tension in his jaw told you that he was not going to back down. “I saw what I saw,” he said quietly. “He was practically on top of you, and then you stayed here last night. Didn’t come home. What the hell am I supposed to think?”

You felt a wave of irritation roll through you. His words hit too close to something you didn’t want to admit. But you couldn’t let him think that anything had happened between you and Bucky. It was absurd.

“Nothing happened,” you snapped, taking a step back from him, your voice rising. “You think I wanted to be near him? He’s insufferable. Rude. A total asshole,” you spat, your frustration spilling out in a string of insults. “He’s arrogant, condescending, and thinks he’s some kind of hero. He makes everything ten times harder just by existing. I can’t stand him, Sam.”

Your chest was heaving now, and you could feel the anger building up in you. You hated how much it burned. Hated that Sam thought you might be attracted to him. Bucky had his demons, and you weren’t going to pretend like you didn’t see them.

“You hear me?” you asked, voice tight with barely contained rage. “I hate him. Every minute of it.”

Sam didn’t flinch at your outburst. He simply stepped toward you slowly, his expression softening. “I know you don’t like him,” he said quietly. “But the way you’re talking—”

You cut him off, shaking your head, trying to pull away from the grip of your anger. “It doesn’t matter what you think, Sam,” you muttered, your voice trembling slightly. “I just... I don’t know what you want me to say. I can’t stand him, and you’re acting like something happened. Nothing did. Nothing ever will.”

But Sam didn’t back off. Instead, he reached out, placing his hands gently on your shoulders. His touch was grounding, and even though your body tensed, you didn’t pull away this time.

“Calm down,” he murmured, his voice smooth but firm. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just...” His grip tightened slightly, pulling you closer, as if trying to shield you from the storm inside. “I care about you. I don’t like seeing you so pissed off.”

The way he said it was enough to make your heart stutter. It was softer than you expected. His usual calm demeanour, now a little more vulnerable, a little more protective.

“You don’t know me.” You sighed and closed your eyes.

“I’ve been watching you for the past fourteen months,” He reminded you.

“Sam, I—” you began, but he cut you off again, his hands rubbing small circles on your shoulders. The motion was oddly soothing, and you felt your anger start to dissipate, though it didn’t disappear entirely.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Sam said, his voice almost a whisper now. “But I don’t want you carrying that anger around. You don’t deserve to be this wound up.”

You took a deep breath, trying to push the lingering frustration down, but it didn’t vanish entirely. It was too raw, too fresh. But the way Sam held you, the gentleness of his touch, calmed something inside you.

“I don’t want to feel this way,” you admitted, your voice quieter. “I’m scared... I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t even understand it myself.”

Sam was quiet for a moment, his hands still on your shoulders, his gaze steady on you. Finally, he gave a small, reassuring smile. “You’re not alone in this, alright?” he said, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “You belong here, with us. No matter what.”

The words felt like a lifeline in the chaos swirling in your mind. He was trying to make you believe it, but the truth was, you still didn’t quite feel like you belonged. Not yet.

Before you could respond, Sam pulled you into a hug — a tight, comforting one. Just a moment of mutual understanding, and maybe a little bit of something unspoken. You let yourself lean into it for a moment, feeling the calmness of his body against yours, before pulling away slowly.

Sam’s smile lingered as he stepped back, his usual confidence returning. “We’ve got a team meeting. About tonight’s mission. You should come.”

You nodded, feeling a strange weight lifting off your shoulders. “Yeah,” you said, the tension in your body easing. “I’ll be there.”

Sam lingered for a moment longer, watching you carefully. Then, with one last look, he turned and walked toward the door, leaving you standing there, still processing everything — the anger, the confusion, and the overwhelming feeling of being seen by someone, in a way that both comforted and unsettled you.

────✪────

You hadn’t expected the meeting to feel so... tense. It wasn’t the mission itself that had you on edge, but the woman who stood at the front of the room, hands on her hips and a sly smile on her lips — Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.

You’d heard rumours about her before, but seeing her in person, acting so... confident, sent a wave of unease through you. She wasn’t your typical leader. It wasn’t just her commanding presence; it was the way she interacted with the room, like she had everyone exactly where she wanted them.

Bucky stood at the edge of the table, arms crossed. His eyes were fixed on Valentina, but there was something colder in his expression now, something guarded. You noticed the way Valentina’s eyes lingered on him — she was always lingering. Her eyes would scan over his body, then she’d smile like she knew something he didn’t.

“Alright, everyone, listen up,” Valentina said, her voice sultry, almost playful. “We’ve got intel that the Fantastic Four are roaming around New York City, and we’re going to find them before they make any moves we don’t like.” She looked directly at Bucky, her voice dropping just a hint as she added, “And Bucky, darling, I trust you’ll be... helpful on this one, won’t you?”

You saw Bucky’s jaw tense, but he didn’t respond to her teasing tone. He didn’t even acknowledge the subtle flirtation in her words. He just nodded, the coldness in his posture only intensifying.

You didn’t miss the way Valentina’s eyes narrowed in a mix of curiosity and annoyance. It was clear she expected something more — some sort of reaction, perhaps even a playful retort. But Bucky was having none of it. And you found yourself relieved, though you didn’t understand why.

Meanwhile, you tried to hide the disgust that rose in your chest as Valentina’s hand drifted toward Bucky’s shoulder, a subtle but clear gesture that had you recoiling in irritation. There was no mistaking the way she tried to make physical contact, but Bucky remained stone-faced and stiff, his eyes flicking to you for just a second. You quickly turned away, not wanting to acknowledge that flicker of discomfort in his expression, as if he had been aware of your reaction.

She didn’t seem to care, though. Valentina pulled back, unfazed, as she paced in front of the group. “We’ll split up. Bob, Sam, and Redwing, you stay on reconnaissance. Surveillance, cameras, drones — we’ll cover the city. Don’t engage unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Bob, ever the quiet one, gave a curt nod, his gaze fixed on Valentina as he mentally processed the orders. Sam gave a nod too, his posture relaxed as usual, but you could sense the subtle tension in his jaw. Redwing perched on his shoulder, watching the room, ready for action.

Valentina turned to the next group, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face as she looked at Joaquin, Yelena, and Ava. “You three,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, “you’ll search for Sue Storm. She’s the most elusive of them all. You’re going to have to be quick on your feet. Work together, and don’t get caught.”

Joaquin gave a brief salute, a smirk tugging at his lips, and Yelena just cracked her knuckles, her expression unreadable but clearly ready for action. Ava adjusted her gear, nodding seriously.

Then, Valentina’s eyes turned to you, and for a moment, you felt a chill run through you. “And as for you, sweetheart,” she said, her tone almost mocking, “you’re with Bucky, John, and Alexei. You’ll search for Reed Richards. You’ll find him — one way or another.”

John’s eyes flicked to you, his expression unreadable, but you could feel his usual cocky energy still buzzing underneath. Alexei gave you a thumbs up, his boisterous personality as charming as ever, but you couldn’t focus on them. Your eyes were stuck on Bucky. His jaw clenched, but his eyes held something darker in them now, something determined. Maybe even a little... relieved. You weren’t sure. He had that way about him.

But then Valentina’s attention snapped back to Bucky, her eyes narrowing as she lingered on him just a little too long. “Well, Bucky,” she said, her voice low and smooth, “I trust you won’t let your team down.”

Bucky’s lips tightened into a thin line, his gaze unwavering as he replied, “I won’t.”

And that was it. No flirtation. No charm. No awkwardness. Just cold professionalism.

Valentina seemed to realise she wasn’t going to get what she wanted from him, and the smile on her face faltered ever so slightly before she snapped her fingers. “Alright, let’s get moving. We’re on a tight schedule. Remember, no one goes in until we have confirmation. And don’t do anything stupid.”

As everyone shuffled out of the room, you couldn’t help but feel a strange tension. You weren’t sure what was bothering you more — Valentina’s attitude toward Bucky, or the thought of having to work so closely with him. He was always around, and now... You were about to head into the field together.

You glanced over at Bucky as he turned to grab his gear, his back straight, his presence still as imposing as ever. You didn’t know what it was about him, but something was shifting, and you were scared of how close you were coming to figuring out just what that was.

────✪────

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ttjisung · 12 hours ago

Text

IS THIS LOVE l. haechan

→ in which haechan wants nothing more than to be with you and have you in every way, even if you're too shy to admit it too

bestfriend!haechan x inexperienced bestfriend!fem!reader (wc: 4.7k)

cw: smut! mdni pls :3 unprotected sex, oral + masturbation (f! receiving), happy ending yayayayayay :D

It was getting harder and harder for Donghyuck to act like he wasn’t affected by you. At first, it was the times where he’d have to bite his lip to stop himself from saying anything weird when you wore a revealing bikini to the beach. Then, it was at his apartment when you’d innocently eat your ice cream, licking the melted treat that dripped onto your hand. You simply shrugged in confusion when he stood up in panic, rushing to the bathroom with no explanation.

Donghyuck was getting tired of it, truthfully. Having to hide his emotions when you were so clueless to every hint he’d drop.

Showering you in compliments, “You look so good in that shirt, baby.” To which you’d smile shyly and let out a small thank you Hyuck. He knew you weren’t doing it on purpose, but it still continued to bother him more and more.

What was worse was that he wasn’t the only one infatuated with you. He could tell by the hunger in Jaemin’s eye when the male would hug you for longer than he should’ve. The way Jeno would try his hardest to avert his eyes when your small skirt would ride up your thigh slightly, which he’d always fail. Donghyuck knew he had no control over any of these things because you were all best friends, and that’s all you were. It didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes and sulking for the rest of the hangout though.

Little by little, he stopped inviting the others around, insisting he wanted to spend time with you the most because you were his closest friend. You’d simply smile at the affection and nod your head eagerly, making a twinge of pride pulse in his chest knowing you hung out with him the most.

– “Hi Hyuck.” You greeted the male, hugging his side before slipping into his familiar apartment. It was a Saturday night and with nothing better to do, he had invited you to stay over. “Hi baby, how are you?” He greeted you back, placing his hand on the small of your back as he guided you to his room. You didn’t even flinch at the contact, so used to his touchy behavior. “I’m good… A little stressed though actually.” He could tell by the furrow in your eyebrow that something was frustrating you. Fighting off every urge to tell you he could find a way to help you destress, he frowned at your words.

You fell back onto his bed, huffing and closing your eyes. “What’s wrong?” Donghyuck inquired as he sat next to you, hoping it was something minimal. God forbid you’re ever truly upset, he’d turn the world around trying to make you happier. “I got a D on my Psych test… I’m so confused because I studied so hard for it.” He fought off the small smile on his face at your pouty face, you were just so cute it was hard to resist pinching your cheeks. “Don’t stress about it, doll. If it happens again I’ll help you study-” “But Hyuck… You got an F last time.” He rolled his eyes, scoffing and looking away playfully which pulled a small laugh from you. He grinned, happy to know you were feeling at least somewhat better because of his antics.

“Let me take your mind off of it baby.” His words had a certain tone surrounding them, somewhat sultry and with a clear hidden meaning, and you sat up happily, nodding your head. Somewhat shocked by your reaction, Donghyuck wondered if it was finally time to do what he had always dreamt of, yet his hopes were crushed when you jumped off the bed and rushed onto his gaming chair. “Let’s play Minecraft!” He groaned internally at your obliviousness, sighing before following after you and agreeing.

After hours of mining while you built the cutest house for the both of you – and ignored his countless jokes about putting your beds together – you both got tired of the game, settling back onto his bed in favor of talking about random things.

“I’m not sure why but it was kind of awkward between Chenle and Jeno last time we hung out.” Donghyuck snorted at your words, “Well duh, Jeno fucked Chenle’s little fling without knowing.” Your eyebrows furrowed deeply at his words in shock, not expecting that reason. “That’s so mean though, why would he?” You asked, not believing that Jeno would do something like that. “It’s just how guys are sometimes, controlled by their dicks y’know?” Donghyuck didn’t miss the way your eyes looked down timidly at his words.

He never held back from being vulgar around you, yet your reactions to his words never changed. You always seemed to be a bit pure, to put it lightly. Flinching when he’d talk about sex in general, as if you knew nothing about it when he knew you did. You had to, he was so sure of it seeing as you’d had a few boyfriends here and there.

“Do you… Would you ever… You know…” “What? Fuck a friend’s girlfriend?” You nodded at his interruption, feeling too awkward to say it out loud which made him chuckle lightly.

He swore up and down that it was frustrating talking to you when you’d act so reserved, but a part of it was endearing to him. It’s not like he wasn’t into women who knew what they wanted, in fact that’s normally what he went for, but something about the way you’d turn bright red and refuse to even say the word fuck made him more attracted. It wasn’t the challenging aspect that had him going crazy, simply the contrast between the cute way you’d act and the filthy way he wanted to have his way with you.

“Nah, recently I’ve not really been into that stuff anyway.” Lies. “Oh… That’s good cause me neither honestly.” Your eyes lit up as you related to his dishonest words. If only you knew how perverted his thoughts were, plagued with the vision of you.

The conversation strayed to another topic quickly, thanks to your insistence on moving on, when you yawned lightly. He could tell you were tired, your eyelids heavy and your voice a little muffled. Donghyuck had to fight back a smile as you tried your best to converse with him when it was clear that you were minutes away from passing out. “Let’s get ready and go to sleep, baby.” You blushed, being caught red-handed in your attempt to hide your fatigue, yet you had to fight off butterflies fluttering in your stomach at his observant behavior. He always knew how you felt, and always did his best to make you happy.

You nodded at his words, putting all your energy into standing up and stumbling into his bathroom to brush your teeth. He stood up behind you, placing a hand on your waist nonchalantly to help you carry yourself out of his room.

Once you both stood in the bathroom, you felt a bit more awake. Maybe it was the strong minty scent of the toothpaste, or maybe it was the way Donghyuck still hadn’t let go of your waist, holding you from behind and placing his head on your shoulder to watch you through the mirror. The scene was a bit domestic, a little fantasy that he’d play every time you’d stay over, wanting to believe one day you’d be so close that this would become a nightly routine.

You blushed at his intense gaze, not once leaving you, even as you insisted he had to brush his teeth and do skincare too. He obliged, nodding his head yet continuing to stand behind you. “C’mon Hyuck,” you passed him his toothbrush, yet he simply nudged his head into your neck further. You didn’t notice the way he lightly inhaled your scent before moving his head back, opening his mouth to bare you his teeth. “You do it.” He responded mumbly, holding eye contact with you through the mirror.

Huffing yet obliging, you turned around, now met face to face with him a little bit too close for comfort. You tried to step back, yet he followed you until your back was pressed against the bathroom counter. Rolling your eyes at his antics, you brought the toothbrush up to his teeth, slowly brushing them until he moved away for a split second, spitting the toothpaste into the sink.

You thought you both were finally done, getting ready to put the brush down yet he shook his head, opening his mouth once more when he returned to his position in front of you, sticking his tongue out. “Ewww Hyuck, you do that part yourself.” You giggled, and he giggled too, running after you with his mouth still open as you ran away into his bedroom.

When Donghyuck finally caught up to you, you were close enough to his bed that he simply rushed at you, pushing you onto the mattress and falling on top of you. You laughed a bit more, the smile on your face making him do the same, yet the atmosphere began to change the longer he hovered over you on the bed. His teasing smile shifted into something different, more desperate and longing, and for the first time in a while, you actually caught it.

He chose to lean into you slightly, pushing his body onto yours yet you squirmed away at the contact, suddenly awkward with the tension that had arisen. “Let’s watch something!” You interrupted, moving under him until you were at his side. You chose to ignore the annoyed huff that he released as he begrudgingly moved until he was laying on his back next to you.

Nodding, Donghyuck picked up the remote on his nightstand, turning his TV on and putting a random movie on. You became immersed in the film, watching with wide eyes yet his were locked on you – your face, your cute pajamas, the way your chest rose lightly every time you’d breathe. He was getting tired of waiting.

He knew you could feel it too, the way you looked at him when he was on top of you was enough of an indicator that you needed him too. Maybe not to the same extent as he did, but there had to be a shared feeling. If not, then you wouldn’t be laying next to him looking so pretty in your tiny sleep dress.

After the movie ended, you were tired again. He still wasn’t, being able to spend hours looking at you.

You turned over, your eyes dazed and your mouth open as you yawned. “Hyuck, are you sleepy?” Your drowsy voice was so sweet, pulling him out of any frustration he was feeling earlier on when you rejected his advances. “Mmm, kinda. Not really though.” You frowned at his response, not wanting to sleep if it meant he’d have to stay up alone. “I’ll stay up with you.” You announced, sitting up as if that would make the fatigue go away.

He laughed at your antics, sitting up too. “Don’t worry baby, you can sleep.” “Not if you won’t though.” He hummed, deep in thought before looking back at you. The bright screen of the television was the only thing lighting the room up, glowing on you. You looked so pretty and he couldn’t fight it anymore.

“Actually… There’s something we could do that would make us both sleepy.” Donghyuck’s words were hesitant, fearing you’d sense what he was hinting at and immediately decline, yet you didn’t, lighting up instead and urging him to go on.

“I… Well you know how earlier I said I haven’t really been into those… things lately?” You appeared to be in thought, reminiscing your old conversation and what he was referring to. The blush that overtook your face was enough to indicate that you finally remembered. You nodded slightly, looking anywhere but him.

“Umm, well sometimes, when I want to sleep, it helps to… Y’know,” he gauged your reaction, seeing you nod with the same look on your face, “Just like… touch myself a little bit.” The way your breath hitched in your throat didn’t go unnoticed, and he squinted his eyes in fear that he had finally crossed a boundary he didn’t know existed and you would leave, yet you simply nodded again. “It-it makes sense. I mean, I don’t really do that but like… I could understand why-” You began to ramble, easing his worries and replacing them with a small chuckle as he listened to you try to defend him.

“You don’t think I’m perverted?” “Hyuck, I never would. Well maybe if you were like really creepy but you’re a normal amount…” He laughed again at your choice of words, and when you finally realized you had unconsciously called him a bit creepy, you began to spew out apologies, insisting it’s not what you meant. “I just- I mean like, like I see worse and like-” Your words were cut off when Donghyuck finally found the courage to lean in, pressing his lips to yours.

Your eyes were wide open in shock, contrasting his that were shut closed, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer into him. It took you a while to react, not expecting him to actually kiss you, yet once the initial surprise surpassed you, you shyly kissed him back.

You could feel his lips curl into a smile at your reciprocation, his hands now fully digging into your hips. His actions were much more passionate than yours, licking your lips and biting them sore while you tried your best to keep up with his pace. Finally he pulled away for a second to breathe, “Baby, have you…” He tried to find a way to ask his question without embarrassing you, “have you ever kissed someone before?” His caution was no use as you curled into yourself, your lips trembling slightly at the painfully accurate accusation. “No… I’m sorry, I- my ex always wanted to but it didn’t feel right and-” He cut you off once more, continuing to smile into the kiss. This time he moved one of his hands to the back of your head, pushing you into him while the other went under your chin, pressing your cheeks lightly to encourage you to move more comfortably against his mouth.

It was safe to say Donghyuck was overjoyed when he found out you hadn’t kissed anyone, meaning you probably hadn’t gone further either. It wasn’t an issue of your virginity, the male being progressive enough to not ever care about something like that. The appeal was more so in the fact that you were trying your best to match his actions although you were inexperienced yourself. It was cute to see you as desperate as him, after years of doubting you felt even close to the same as he did.

Your eagerness shined through the way you hesitantly bit his lip too, causing him to moan into your mouth, a noise you hadn’t heard before yet really liked for some reason. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered harder, an ache further below forming as he whined when you finally opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to slip past and tangle with your own.

Although you had never done this with anyone else, you found out quickly that you really enjoyed the feeling of kissing someone. Maybe it was the safety you felt in his arms, or maybe it was the way his hand behind your head grazed down until he was holding onto your thigh tenderly.

Donghyuck’s grip on your thigh grew as his tongue moved around yours, lapping at the shared saliva that dripped down your lip. Before either of you knew, not letting your mouths disconnect, both his hands wrapped around your legs, pulling you until you were straddling him. The new position made you whine, feeling his erection growing harder through the flimsy fabric of his sweatpants. His hands pushed you against him, mouth abusing yours as he thrusted up into you messily.

Having not been on someone’s lap before in a sexual context, the unfamiliar feeling was worsening the ache you felt in your core. You pulled away, biting your lip to shield your frustration as you looked below to where you were hovering over him. He gripped your hips, pulling you down until you were fully planted on him, your embarrassment taking over and making you look away. Donghyuck chased after you, not wanting to end the kiss, yet he was interrupted by one of your hands that shyly inched towards the front of your panties. You weren’t sure why, but the pain was getting worse the more you kissed and the only relief you felt was when your fingers would graze your covered slit.

Convinced he was in a wet dream or a weird fantasy of his, he groaned at your actions. “Fuck, baby. Does it hurt there?” You nodded, small tears catching on your cheeks as the feeling continued to intensify. One of his hands slipped from your hips, enveloping yours and moving it back to your position as you tried to flinch away from the contact.

He leaned back on his headboard, allowing for a better view as his hand guided your own against your clothed cunt. “You ever touch yourself like this?” You shook your head, “Answer with words, baby.” “Umm… No… I tried but, it never feels good.” You were clearly embarrassed, yet not enough to pull your hand away as he pushed three of your fingers down, holding onto your ring and middle finger and pressing down against your clit.

You jolted when he began to move your fingers, circling them against the fabric. The feeling was a lot better when he guided you, pulling out whines and noises you never knew you could make. “‘Gonna feel so much better without,” his hand let go of yours, slipping under the band of your panties and pulling them up until they snapped back onto your skin, “these in the way.” His breath was ragged, his length now almost fully hard as you nodded at his words.

Noting how you agreed yet did nothing to follow his advice, he chose to do so himself, one arm on your waist holding you up as the other pulled them off agonizingly slowly until you were bare under your nightgown. He whined loudly at the view of your bare cunt sitting on top of his pants, your wet arousal leaking and leaving a small stain. He’s sure he’d be unable to wash it off after, probably framing the clothing on his wall instead.

Your eyes were shut closed, your head falling onto his shoulder as he got ahold of your fingers again, moving them against your clit. The feeling was more intense now with no barrier, and you’d shiver and cry out occasionally when the cold ring he wore would graze against your cunt as he’d move your digits to relieve your pain.

Donghyuck couldn’t hold back anymore, a particularly loud moan from you forcing him to let go of your hand and carry your body until you were under him instead. He moved back after placing your lying body on his bed, his lower body now hovering off of his bed as he watched you through his messy bangs. “Baby, I… I know it might be embarrassing but… Can I watch you touch yourself?” The question made you squint your eyes – he was right, it was embarrassing.

“But I don’t know how-” “It’s okay, just do what I taught you, okay? Start here,” he lightly grazed your clit with his hand, “and circle it a bit.” You sat up slightly so you were on your knees, hesitantly inching your hand under your dress. Your other hand hooked onto the edge of it, pulling the fabric up and displaying your bare self to him, making him muffle a moan.

“Fuck, your little pussy is so cute, baby. Please… Touch it. Just how Hyuck taught you.” You nodded, flinching when your fingers finally found the bundle of nerves, moving back and forth. His gaze was so intense, barely even blinking out of fear that he’d miss any second of this.

Without realizing, he began to grind against the mattress as your actions grew more confident. Both your moans echoed through the room as your hand moved over your dress to squeeze your chest. The way your nipples hardened made Donghyuck wish he was the one touching you instead, yet the sight of you falling apart as you groped yourself, your fingers on your clit moving down until they were caressing your slit, was more than enough for him to get off.

You let out a loud whine when your finger finally fit itself into your hole, clenching harshly at the feeling of the intrusion. You had never done this before, yet for some reason it felt so good. Donghyuck was getting closer by the second, crying out when he saw you finger yourself. He shook his head, deciding he had to be inside of you soon or he’d cum in his pants like a frustrated teenager.

You gasped in shock when you felt two hands grabbing your waist, pushing you down onto the mattress before he dived in, tongue covering your slit and lapping up the arousal you had let out. Two of his long fingers replaced yours, thrusting in and out at a more calculated rhythm than yourself. Your fingers, still coated in your own fluids, gripped onto his hair, “Hyuck… ‘So good, it’s so good…” You were babbling random praises at this point, too lost on the feeling of him sucking your clit into his mouth. He nodded in response, whimpering into you, the vibration of the noise adding to your pleasure.

His tongue strayed down to your slit, almost close enough to meet his fingers sloppily pistoning into you, his nose now rubbing your clit. “Your pussy tastes so good, fuck, could eat it forever.” His vulgar words made you blush, biting your lip harder as your hands pulled on the strands of his dark hair.

A particular thrust of his fingers, matched with the coldness of the ring inside of you and the grinding of his nose on your cunt was enough to make you reach your high, letting out a whine at the unfamiliar feeling of your own orgasm. Your body felt hot, your vision white and your core pulsing as Donghyuck continued his actions. He only stopped when you began to cry out from the overstimulation, licking all of your arousal before finally letting you go.

You were exhausted, your chest rising up slowly as you breathed in heavily, coming down from the feeling. Donghyuck gave you no time to rest though, as he quickly moved up until he was over you again, catching your lips with his, slipping his tongue in again.

You could taste yourself on him as he pushed himself eagerly on top of you, one of his elbows holding himself up as his other arm reached down to push off his pants. His bare cock sprung out as he kicked the pants off completely, straining against his stomach as he desperately pushed your dress off your head. You complied as much as you could, holding your arms up so he could take the fabric off in one go. His shirt was next, leaving you both bare.

You looked down at his length, suddenly feeling anxious. He was heavy, the tip red and leaking precum. If his two fingers were enough to stretch you out almost painfully, you wondered how he’d be able to fit his large size inside of you.

Sensing your anxiety, he drew comforting circles onto your hips. “I’ll go slow, baby. I promise.” You nodded, closing your eyes and letting him kiss you again to distract you from the pain as he eased himself in. He groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your tight walls clenching on him, slowly pushing in inch by inch until he bottomed out. The feeling of his pelvis rubbing against your clit made you clench harder, the friction helping with the pain of the unfamiliar intrusion.

His beginning thrusts were shallow, helping you get used to his size. His free hand moved up until it met your chest, gripping one of your boobs eagerly. Pulling away from the kiss, he sighed in pleasure as the steady rhythm grew stronger. “Need to feel your pretty tits in my mouth, please…” Your shyness was long gone as you were eager to agree, if the way your cunt tightened around his cock said anything. He smiled widely before placing kisses all the way down your collarbone, matching the pace with the jolts of his hips.

Once Donghyuck’s mouth found your boobs, he enveloped the one left alone by his hand, running his tongue over your nipple and humming at the feeling. He grew more desperate by the second, moving his hips faster as he became dazed by everything happening.

Your small moans matching his thrusts encouraged him to continue, making him alternate between slow and shallow ones, and long and deeper ones. As he moved in and out of you, the pain died out, still there but barely noticeable as you became engulfed in a desire to cum again.

Donghyuck mirrored your desperation, moaning against your sweaty skin, finding himself getting closer and closer. Your hand reached down to play with your clit, just how he taught you, adding more and more satisfaction. He felt pride swell in his chest when he noticed what you were doing. It took one particular thrust, matched with your own fingers rubbing against you and his tongue biting down on your nipple to make you cum.

The feeling was more extreme this time, added with the force of his cock filling you so deep, as you finally let go. Your toes curled, your hands letting go of his hair to find his back, scratching along his skin as you tried to flee from the overwhelming feeling. He didn’t let you get away so easily though, releasing your nipple he was playing with to hold onto your hips, grounding you against the bed as he continued to push into you, searching for his own release.

You could feel every vein running up his length as your eyes shut closed, digging your nails deeper into his back. The pain he felt mixed with the pleasure of your tight cunt finally made him reach his high too, cumming inside of you with a loud whimper of your name.

He continued to rut his dick into you, not wanting to stop feeling the intense thrill of your body. Overstimulating both himself and you at the same time, he only stopped once he began to cry from the mixed pain.

You both stayed in the same position for a minute, catching your breath before he finally pulled out, his cum spilling out from you and staining his sheets. It was then that the insecurities began to plague Donghyuck’s mind. Sure, you were obviously into everything that had played out, but what if you decided you didn’t want to be close with him anymore? What if things become awkward after, and you wouldn’t spend the night anymore?

Looking at you with worry in his eyes, he felt at peace when your hands moved from his back to cup his cheeks endearingly, pulling him down into another more gentle kiss. He hummed happily, holding you close. The position was intimate, hugging each other, your naked bodies shifting against each other.

You broke the silence after, sighing contently before looking directly into his eyes, “I… I’m still tired, Hyuck.” He laughed, rolling off onto his side and moving his arm so it’d tuck itself under your waist. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll clean you up.”

You smiled, nodding your head before closing your eyes. True to his words, Donghyuck stood up, going to grab a small wet towel and rid you of any sticky fluid left. Once he finally finished, he moved your body onto the side of the bed that didn’t have ruined sheets, slotting himself right next to you and falling asleep too.

a/n: inspired because i saw haechan live again and he looked so good ^_^ i hope u all enjoy

#nct x reader #nct #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #haechan #haechan x reader #haechan smut #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck

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whumpster-fire · 2 hours ago

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#another thing to add on that I learned recently#is that heavier bows#had so much force in them#that they required thicker heavier arrows#otherwise normal arrows would just shatter from the forces involved

IIRC underweight arrows are also less efficient and can cause damage to the bow.

Hopefully I'm not butchering the physics here too much and OP or someone else who knows more about archery than me can correct me if I'm wrong on this:

A bow is basically a very well optimized leaf spring. Potential energy is stored by elastic deformation of the bow as it's drawn back and its limbs flex, with the amount of stored energy depending on the bow's draw weight, draw distance, and how the draw force actually varies with how far it's drawn back (the draw force curve). The naive approximation would be assuming draw force starts at zero and varies linearly with draw distance, which would imply a stored energy of 1/2 * Max Draw Force * Draw Distance: for a 120lb @28" bow, this would be around 140 ft*lb (about 190 Joules). However, in reality bows aren't linear: some of this is presumably due to the behavior of the bow itself under load, and the fact that you're pulling on a string with the angle of the string tension changing as it's drawn. From what I can find a typical force draw curve for a recurve bow looks something like this, so the stored energy is a bit higher than the "pretend it's a tension spring and apply Hooke's Law" approximation would suggest.

When an arrow is released, that potential energy is, ideally, all converted into kinetic energy. This includes the arrow's kinetic energy, but the bow's limbs also have mass and are moving, so those have kinetic energy as well. Also, the arrow's shaft is a spring too, so some energy ends up being turned into elastic (hopefully) deformation of the arrow shaft as it buckles. I'm guessing with a perfectly optimized system you want the arrow to spring back to straight right as it's released from the string, so more of the arrow-flexing energy gets put back into accelerating the arrow, making it fly faster and not vibrate as severely.

The relationship between how fast the arrow's moving and how fast the bow's moving at the end of the stroke is fixed based on the design of the bow, which means the relationship between the bow limbs' kinetic energy and the arrow's is dependent on the relative mass of the arrow and the bow (excluding any recovered energy from springback of the arrow). This means for the same bow, a lighter arrow will go faster, but a larger proportion of the stored energy will go into accelerating the bow instead of the arrow.

An excessively light arrow may be insufficiently stiff and deform to its failure point under the forces of a shot: if the shaft is wood or carbon fiber this will most likely mean that when it breaks it will suddenly release all the energy that went into elastically deforming the shaft and the pieces will spring back, throwing sharp splinters in unpredictable ways at high speeds.

But also the lighter the arrow is, the more energy the bow itself needs to dissipate after the arrow is released, which puts higher stresses on the bow. To the limit of shooting something with zero mass (dry firing) which can definitely break things.

There's also an optimal mass of arrow for effective range: too heavy and the arrow is so slow it's hard to aim, but the lighter it is the more rapidly the arrow loses energy to aerodynamic drag.

Different bow designs also probably perform differently for lighter vs heavier arrows: I'd guess the lighter the bow is for its draw weight, especially at the tips of the limbs, the lighter an arrow it can safely shoot. I know modern compound bows, due to some combination of composite materials and their moving parts making their mechanical advantage vary in a different way, can shoot lightweight carbon fiber arrows at extremely high speeds, but that doesn't necessarily mean shooting that same arrow out of a traditional bow of the same draw weight is safe for the bow.

Theoretically could you construct a stiff but very light arrow with pre-industrial-revolution materials and techniques that would be strong enough to withstand being shot from a high draw weight military bow but too light for those bows to safely shoot?

E.g. shaving hardwood really, really thin so it was flexible in the cross grain direction and then wrapping laminated layers of that around a cork core with the grain parallel to the shaft? Or a square shaft with thicker bits of wood glued to a core? Or a large enough bamboo shaft? I'd say a balsa core instead of cork but that wouldn't have been available in pre-Columbian-Exchange Eurasia.

Let’s compare some different weights of bow!

As always, you can find more stuff here

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thedevilsoftruth · 10 hours ago

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riding congressman bucky’s face. that’s it. that’s the request.

( ily and your writing, make sure to stay hydrated!! wishing you the best in everything!! <3 )

Thank you so much, anon. 💜💜

All I can say to that is yes. Yes yes yes.

Smooth

Congressman Barnes x F! Reader

Sum - an interview with a very hot congressman goes wrong.

W/c - less then 1k (if you would like a fuller version, please let me know!!

I do NOT consent to my work being reposted or translated on any website.

MDNI!! I am not responsible for what you find on the internet!!!

[my request box is currently open. PLEASE see my pinned post for more information regarding my request rules.]

You don't even know how it happened. One moment you're interviewing a congressman, and the next that same man is fingering you on his bed in his expensive penthouse. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't the absolute sexiest and hottest thing you'd ever been through. He was so persuasive and smooth. His flirting was subtle and was the kind that had your mind reeling and overanalyzing every single little thing he said. But his sex? Even better.

He'd been going at it for over and hour and a half, mouthing and slurping down your over-used and sensitive drooling cunt. He kept going and didn't seem to stop. He had your hands tied to his bedposts with the red wine tie he had previously worn to a campaign event that evening. Everything was so overwhelming and overestimating, especially since you weren't used to hook ups. Especially from ex assassins turned democratic congressmen.

So when he had wiped his mouth and soaked beard off with his white button down shirt and crawled up your body to untie you, you finally thought he was done. That was at least until he stripped himself of the white shirt dress shirt he was wearing and gave your wet pussy a slap with an even wetter palm (which you had previously came on four times.)

"Want you to come sit on my face." He panted, his voice scratchy and hoarse as he quickly threw the shirt on the ground like it had personally offended him. You blinked at him, your face flushed and sweaty with your hair sticking to it.

"Wha?" You breathe, confused and dazed. The both of you are so fucked out, but he is not stopping. Not until his jaw goes fucking numb. He lays onto the bed next to you, how heavy body plopping down into the mattress.

"Sit. On. My face." He commands, pointing to his face with a vibranium finger. You look down on him, confused. His patience snaps and he grabs your hips and throws you down onto his stomach.

"I'm not repeating myself again, babydoll. You either start riding it and soaking my fucking beard or I'll stop touching you all together." He huffs, his teeth gritted and his voice gruff with need. You never would have expected your congressman to have such an oral fixation, but you were not complaining. So, up you went; shaky legs parting as you positioned yourself above his head, your knees pressing deep into the mattress as you hovered above your face.

"Is this okay? Can you breathe?"you ask him worriedly, looking down at him. His eyebrows knit tightly, and his strong hands grab your hips and slam you down onto his face.

"Breathing's overrated." Is the last thing he says before his mouth was on you. His thick tongue licked a long line across your messy folds. Your head tipped back in pleasure, low moans escaping your mouth as he licked you up steady and slow. You're already so overstimulated and overwhelmed from the previous orgasms he pulled out of you, and he hadn't even fucked you yet.

You try to hover away from him. Instinctively. The pleasure is just too much for you to handle.

But his vibranium hand squeezes your hip and he spanks your ass with a flesh hand, making you yelp in surprise.

"No. None of that. Sit." He tells you, pushing you down onto his face. You pull off of him again, bracing your arms in the headboard for support.

"I just want to make sure you're okay--"

"I have your pussy on my mouth, of course I'm okay. Im not stopping until I make you cum or unless I black out. Now quit your yapping and let me eat."

You let him pull you back down onto his greedy lips, and he moans in approval the moment he feels your weight on him.

"Ride me." He says against your pussy, kissing your folds and flicking your clit with his tongue. You look down at him again, confused snd sex-dazed.

"Don't make me repeat myself." He said, gripping your flesh hard enough that you were sure he'd leave bruises behind. You whine and press your face into the headboard before slowly, steadily rolling your hips across his face. His nose bumps against your clit and you can feel his beard dampening at the warm slick of your used cunt. The full, thick streaks of facial hair brush against your inner thighs.

You bite down on your finger and moan loud, your hips rocking against your lovers face. The way his lips brush and caress your flesh should be a crime. The way he rolls his tongue against your clit and labia just feels so right but so wrong.

"Mr. Barnes," You moan, your hips beginning to stutter as they try desperately to keep up. "I c-cant--"

He pulls away and smacks your ass. You yelp aloud, gripping the headboard like it owed you money.

"Do you want me to tie your wrists together with my belt and muffle your mouth with my tie?" He questioned, looking at you with mean blue eyes that made your pussy flutter.

"N-no sir." You responded weakly, your voice wobbly with the rest of his threat.

"Then shut the fuck up and ride me like the good little journalist you are."

#bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #congressman bucky #congressman barnes #congressman bucky smut #thunderbolts bucky smut #thunderbolts bucky #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #mcu smut #bullets mailbox ��

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chamomiletealeaf · 2 days ago

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Taking care of Simon when he's sick :(

He hides it like a sick dog trying not to show weakness. You don't even realize something is off until he gets really quiet and doesn't snuggle up to you on the couch anymore.

At first you thought he just needed time to readjust to coming home after a mission but he wouldn't let you anywhere near him and it made you a little sad. What was wrong?

Then you heard him trying to suppress coughs in the bathroom, his body getting weaker, and him sleeping longer.

"Simon baby are you ok?" You ask, sitting next to him on the couch while he watches the game.

"Hm? oh yeah love." He says, but you don't buy it.

"No you're not. Why don't you wanna snuggle me? You been avoiding it. And you're sleeping longer too. What's wrong?" You say, looking at him with sad eyes that make his heart hurt.

"Oh just. Not feeling the greatest that's all. I'm sorry love." He says, feeling terrible for making you feel neglected.

You hum in response and try not to take it too personally. He had a rough few months.

Then one afternoon, you come home from the store and find Simon laying down on the couch, arm slung over his eyes.

You place the groceries down and walk over to him.

"Hi honey! I'm back.... you ok?" You ask when you see the state he's in on the couch.

He grunts in response and that was it. There was definitely something wrong.

You walk up to him and sit next to him on the couch, removing his arm, which he lets you due to the weakness of his body right now, and you place your hand on his forehead.

"Oh honey." You coo. "You're burning up baby. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Can take care of myself love I'm ok." He says, trying to roll onto his side away from you. "Don't wanna get you sick."

You grip his jaw gently and turn him towards you.

“Look at me.” You demand, and he does.

“Oh baby your eyes are bloodshot.” You say, voice dripping with sympathy.

You get up and walk to the medicine cabinet then to the kitchen to get a wet rag for him. You return with some Advil, a water bottle, and a blanket.

"Now I don't know what you were thinking trying to hide from me. But I'm not leaving you like this alone." You say, putting the blanket over him where he lays on the couch.

"Come here baby this'll help you." You sit by him again with a wet rag, and he lets you place it on his forehead.

"Really I'm fine love-" He protests.

"Ah- none of that. Lay down and I'll make you some soup okay?" You cut him off.

"I'll make it later." He argues yet again.

You pause for a moment, wondering how to get him to relent and let you take care of him.

"No." You say, not being able to think of anything else.

He raises an eyebrow at you, and it really was cute. Him thinking that you really were just going to leave him alone and let him suffer in silence.

You sit down next to him and open the Advil bottle and the bottle of water.

"Here baby, open." You say, the Advil pill in your hand. "Gonna help break the fever."

He waits for a second, looking at you, then at the pill in your hand. He sits up in defeat with a sigh, finally letting you help him.

"There we go." You coo. "Now open." You reach your hand to his face, lightly squeezing his cheeks to open his mouth. He let's it happen and you pop the pill in his mouth.

"Good. Now drink this." You bring the water bottle up to his lips and he takes a few gulps, giving it back to you when he's finished.

"See? isn't that better baby?" You say as he lays back down and he nods.

You reach to cup his cheeks to feel his burning skin once more.

"Oh honey. You're all flushed. Drink that water down for me ok? I'm gonna make you some soup." You tell him softly, your eyes sad that he felt like he needed to hide from you.

He nods as he lies back down, eyes closing from the exhaustion of the fever and headache.

A few minutes later you come back with some soup for him and place it in front of him.

"Here baby." You say.

"Thank you love." He responds, taking the soup and swallowing it down. Poor baby really was hungry and was too afraid to ask for some help :(

He finishes then sets the bowl down.

"I'm sorry lovie." He says, and your eyebrow raises.

"For what?"

"Making you feel like I was avoiding you." He says with regret.

"Oh honey. C'mere." You say, laying next to him and pulling him into you.

"No, gonna get you sick dovey." He says, getting cut off with a cough.

You pull him into your chest, him laying on top of you despite his protests of being so close to you where he shoves his face into your chest, your cooler skin contrasting his significantly warmer skin.

You play with his hair as he closes his eyes and you find it funny his actions are the opposite of his words.

"I don't care about getting sick. I care about you feeling better. That's what I'm here for baby." You coo down at him.

He grunts into your chest and you press a kiss to his head.

"Feel a little better?" You ask, and you feel his lips form into a smile against where he has his face shoved in your cleavage as he lets out a confirming hum, making you giggle.

"Aw you're still burning up honey." You say, brushing your thumb against his flushed cheek. "Go to sleep. I'm right here."

And with that, you both doze off in each other's arms.

This is kinda shit but enjoy I guess

#sorry just need to baby him real quick #call of duty #cod #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost #ghost cod x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost call of duty x reader

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kitkatscabinet · 2 days ago

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MID DAY MADNESS

pairing: platonic batfam x batsis, kyle rayner x batsis! reader

summary: Turns out you are worth the burden of putting up with your family, you're so worth it he'll even put a ring on it.

word count: 2k

a/n: part 2 of early morning meetings but can be read standalone

Cassandra’s stare is heavy on your back as you pace, but you don’t dare to turn and meet her gaze head-on; you can’t handle the judgment or the pity.

What if you tripped? What if you ugly cried and it ruined all the photos? What if Bruce makes that constipated face during the vows again, like he did at Tim’s graduation? What if you forget your vows, or you stutter? What if you forgot how to breathe?

You grab the vanity for balance and take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help. Your lungs feel empty, the soft material of the dress you’d fallen in love with suddenly clinging to you like a vice. The exorbitantly expensive heels have long since been kicked off, even as Babs tries to coax them back on your feet as Steph finishes pinning your veil in place.

Your heart is pounding like a drumbeat in your chest, and every minute sound feels as loud as a gunshot. The mirror displays a goddess, radiant and elegant. But you don’t feel like her. Not right now.

“You're not panicking,” you whisper to yourself, trying to manifest some sort of mind over matter response. “You’re not panicking. You’ve fought assassins. You’ve faced alien invasions. You’ve dealt with Damian. You’ve—”

“Oh wow, she is really freaking out.” Steph murmurs to Cass, which you barely hear over your mad ramblings.

“This is insane,” you mutter to no one. “I can’t do this. This is insane. God, what if I throw up? That would be poetic. Gotham’s sweetheart and a Wayne at that, vomiting on the groom before saying I do. Great headline, excellent optics.”

Cassandra interrupts by taking your hands in hers, forcing your attention on her. “You're okay,” she signs "You're just in your head.”

“But what if—”

It’s Barbara’s turn to interrupt your spiral next. “Then you breathe. And you keep going.”

Her voice is far away. Distant. As if someone pressed cotton into your ears.

You love him. You love Kyle more than anything. He’s waiting for you. He’s probably grinning like an idiot, fixing his tie wrong, because he always does. Because he wants to look good for you. Because he loves you too.

The door bursts open without warning, ricocheting off the wall with a bang. You’re so keyed up on nerves that you let out a screech, nearly throwing your bouquet at Dick’s face.

“YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE IN HERE!” Barbara shrieks from the corner, but it’s too late. Dick, Jason, and Tim fall into the room like a chaotic hurricane.

Jason has two champagne flutes in one hand, fending off Tim’s fussing with his other as the younger boy attempts to fix Jason’s tie. The two squabbling loudly, Tim looking as if he’s about to sit on Jason just to get his way. Dick is… well, he looks more liable to burst into tears than you do.

Dick’s crossing the room with a sniffle, looking like he wants to cup your face but knows better than to ruin your makeup. “You’re so beautiful.” He gasps, voice wobbling, “Kyle’s the luckiest man in the galaxy. He’s definitely gonna pass out when he sees you, little bat.”

Tim snorts. “I give him ten seconds. Tops.” But you’re too keyed up to find any humour in the situation.

“Damn. You look like you’re about to be sick,” Jason comments, handing you one of the champagne glasses before Dick punches him in the arm.

“I am going to be sick.” You collapse into the nearest chair.

“Relax,” Tim says. “It’s Kyle. He’d literally marry you in a dive bar if he could.”

“Yeah, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.” Jason pauses, “Or you could just take off, Bat plane’s fueled up.” The hope in his voice lets you know exactly how much he's not joking.

“You are so not helping,” you hiss, trying not to laugh, because it’s either that or burst into hysterical tears, and Steph will kill you if you smudge your makeup.

Damian steps in after them, a scowl marring his face, “sister, I attempted to stop them, but these imbeciles were intent on harassing you.”

You audibly coo then, nerves momentarily forgotten as you take in how adorable your baby brother is. “Oh, you look so handsome, Dami.” (You suspect it’s only the fact that it's your wedding day that stops him from kicking up a fuss when you lean down to place a kiss on his forehead.)

A guilty-looking Duke pokes his head in from behind the doorframe, and you motion for him to come in with a soft smile, pulling him into your side for a hug.

“You look really pretty.” He hugs you back before pulling away, studying your face with a look of concern. “Are you ok?” The question is quiet, a private conversation just for you, as the rest of your siblings squabble in the background. Affection swells in your being, momentarily overcoming your nerves.

“Just… nerves. Everyone will be staring; it’s just a lot. And what if I trip? Or say something stupid? Or I ugly cry so hard I throw up?” As the what-if scenarios spiral out of control again, so too does your anxiety.

“Hey, hey, hey, breathe,” Dick steps forward, taking your hands in his. “Deep breaths. C’mon, do it with me.” You glare at him, thoroughly unimpressed with the patronising tone. “Come on,” he urges again, over-enunciating like you’re five. “In through the nose… out through the mouth…”

“I hate you.”

“That’s fair,” he says. “But breathe anyway.” You do. Slowly. “You’re just nervous because, for once, it’s not a mission,” he says, gently now. “It’s not a rescue. It’s not a strategy. This is for you. You deserve this. Kyle loves you more than anything in the world.”

“I know, he’s the only thing I’m not nervous about.” You admit, “Everyone’s expecting something perfect. It’s like I’m supposed to be a fairytale princess and a Wayne but also myself—”

“You don’t have to be anything but you,” Damian scoffs. “That’s who Rayner fell in love with. That’s who we all love. You’ve already won. The rest is just a show.”

“When did you get so eloquent and wise?” You reach for Damian again, his unexpected words of support nearly being the thing that finally gets the waterworks going.

“Who are you and what have you done with the demon brat?” Tim eyes him warily, and you nearly smack him for it, but Cass beats you to it.

Bruce appears in the doorway, knocking to gather the attention of his rowdy children. The furrow in his brow eases the second he lays eyes on you. For a few moments, he just stares at you, drinking you in. Then, in a soft, reverent voice, he says, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Dad—” you croak, lower lip wobbling dangerously as he opens his arms. You cross the room before you even realise you’re moving, hugging him tight. He’s warm and solid, a steady, comforting presence that never fails to make you feel like a little girl again.

“Ready?” he asks as your siblings finally filter out of the room, and all you can manage is a nod.

“You’re going to be alright,” he murmurs, his voice rough in that emotionally constipated tone. “And Kyle is one lucky son of a bitch to get to do this with you.”

You laugh a little, then nod as you take his hand. His grip is steady and grounding, just like it was when you were little and scared of the dark. Just like it always is. “Thanks, Daddy.”

His expression softens. “Always.”

“I love you,” you whisper, curling your hand into the crook of his elbow and leaning against his bicep.

“I love you too, sweetheart, and I’m so, so proud of you.” You very kindly don’t point out the way his eyes mist up a little. Until he decides to tack on quietly "even if you picked a Lantern."

“You had to ruin it.” You glared, making the normally stoic man pout. Your adult father, pouting.

“Just making sure that you’re sure, darling. You deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy dad, Kyle makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“He better keep it that way, or they’ll never find his body,” Bruce mumbled petulantly, and you can't help but giggle, feeling more loved than you ever have despite the threat on Kyle's life.

The gardens of Wayne’s manor have always been extravagant, but Stephanie and Damian have transformed them into something out of a fairytale. White chairs line the self-constructed aisle, flower petals strewn about from an enthusiastic Dick littering the soft grass that you prepare to walk over.

“Would you all stand for the bride.” The officiant proclaims, the music swells, and heads turn to you and Bruce as your heart pounds in your ears.

Bruce stands with you on his arm, suited to perfection, expression unreadable but eyes glassy with emotion. However, Kyle pays little attention to his father-in-law because the second he lays eyes upon his bride, everything else disappears.

You’re smiling, looking at him like he hung the stars. But Kyle knows the truth. You hung the stars in his sky. You are the stars, you’re everything that’s brilliant and bright and beautiful in this galaxy and the next.

Hal leans over, whispering in his ear, sounding amused, “Don’t cry, man. You’ll ruin the whole ‘cool Lantern’ thing.” It’s far too late for that, the tears already sliding down his cheeks silently. Not that Kyle even hears him, his entire focus devoted to the love of his life walking toward him.

“Hi,” you mouthed, smiling giddily at Kyle as you watched him sniffle.

“Hi,” he whispers back, voice cracking a little as you take your place across from him, and you reach to grab his slightly trembling hands in yours.

“You look so handsome.” You can’t take your eyes off him, and neither does he seem very inclined to look away from you. It’s like he doesn’t even want to blink for fear of missing even a second. The officiant starts to speak, welcoming the guests, but you hardly pay him any attention. How could you when Kyle was staring at you like that?

You’d both decided to save your personal vows for each other in private, not wanting your personal feelings and lives plastered all over some tabloid. You both repeat the vows after the officiant quickly, still never looking away from each other.

“You may now kiss —” The officiant doesn’t even finish the sentence before Kyle is surging forward, one hand cupping your jaw and the other wrapping around your waist as he kisses you deeply. Hal and Guy let out jeering whoops, and only the presence of Gotham’s high society and paparazzi prevents you from flipping them off.

Kyle can practically feel the daggers Jason’s glaring at him from his place behind you, but for once, he doesn’t care. You’re his wife now and he’s going to kiss you goddamnit.

“Ok, that’s enough,” Jason grumbled beneath his breath.

You sigh against Kyle’s mouth, pulling back a little, just enough to rest your forehead against his before Jason has a meltdown. He’s staring at you desperately, like he’s trying to sear this moment into memory.

Behind you, Dick lets out a loud sniff, pretending not to wipe at his eyes while Steph not-so-subtly fans her face. Damian mutters something about “unnecessary public displays of affection”, but even he can’t entirely suppress the soft smile tugging at the edge of his mouth when you turn to look at him with the happiest smile of your life.

Jason, meanwhile, is still scowling. “Seriously, Kyle, if you don’t stop touching my sister, I will ruin your honeymoon.”

Kyle doesn’t even glance at him. “Worth it.” Because you were worth it, you were worth everything, even putting up with your batshit insane family.

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mwphisto · 1 day ago

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LaDs pairings and my personal headcanons on their dynamics

Warning, this post contains: threesomes, polyamorous relationships, male x male x female dynamics, mentions of dom/sub play and dynamics.

A/N: just a silly little post about the various love and deepspace pairings and what I headcanon their throuple / threesome dynamic to be like :3 also this looks way better on mobile than desktop so forgive me for my aesthetic needs lmfaoooo

Xavier x Rafayel x Reader (StarFish)

Cutest name among the pairings first of all

Possibly controversial but I think Rafayel mainly tops in this dynamic… here me out

Xavier is a freak in the sheets but compared to Rafayel? He’s very mellow. He’s so focused on you and your needs that he can drown out some of Rafayel’s antics when getting down to it.

It’s not until Xavier snaps that Rafayel is the center of attention. You and Xavier team up to put the brat of your trio in his rightful place.

Not saying Rafayel loves it… but he loves it.

Xavier x Zayne x Reader (StarSnow)

The silent but deadly duo (lmfao)

I think these two are fighting for dominance while also being civil about it? Taking turns if you will.

In this trio, you are definitely the sub with your two doms. Very little room for switching imo

It’s very rare that you get a chance to top either of them, the two of them always being two steps ahead and getting you railed until you can’t see straight.

Xavier x Sylus x Reader (StarCrow)

Prepare to never feel your legs again.

You are once again the sub in this pairing, but with some free reigns thanks to Sylus

You and Sylus like to team up on Xavier, making the prince of Philos see the stars in which he came from by the time the two of you are done with him

Xavier and Sylus have…wrestled… much to your amusement but Sylus typically always comes out on top. Mostly thanks to his evol and size. Not that Xavier is complaining… he secretly enjoys it.

Xavier x Caleb x Reader (StarApple)

They bicker all the time, they’re always fighting for your attention.

They’re both headstrong, needing to be in control and both equally as obsessed with your pleasure.

Someway, somehow, Caleb manages to get Xavier to give up — his evol held he man down — and you had a time riding him until he was a sobbing mess

Caleb would let the roles reverse willingly after seeing how much fun Xavier got to have being under you.

Rafayel x Zayne x Reader (SnowFish)

We’re looking at two bratty subs with their tamer

You and Rafayel are menaces when together, in and out of the bedroom. Poor Zayne (he fucking loves it)

A common position is you riding Rafayel within an inch of his life while Zayne holds you by your hair and helps himself to your… back door.

Roles have also been reversed, with Rafayel getting fucked senseless while trying not to slobber all over your pussy — and failing miserably in the process.

Rafayel x Sylus x Reader (CrowFish)

Sylus gets off watching you and Rafayel play.

He often partakes in the activities, don’t get me wrong, but he has a thing for watching you and Rafayel get each other off. The struggle of two switches trying not to fall into submissive tendencies… and failing. Cute.

Though, it’s not always the case, when Sylus is involved, Rafayel gets feral. You’re not leaving that bed with working legs… or any feeling in your lower half for that matter. It’s your turn to get fucked within an inch of your life and be pampered on for the coming days.

More than one bed has been replaced…

Rafayel x Caleb x Reader (AppleFish)

Kings of yearning…and stalking… and trying to act like they didn’t plot everything ever.

They initially hate each other, then they realize how likeminded they are and it’s game over for you.

They are torturing you low-key, expect to be tied up, edged until you're sobbing, and then overstimulated until you're begging them to stop. And, spoiler, they won't stop.

Evil ass dynamic for real, they feed off of each other's dramatics

Zayne x Sylus x Reader (SnowCrow)

Oh bitch. Maybe I'm biased (I am) but this combo is elite.

You've got three brat tamers who can all be brats. A group of switches if you will. Couple broken beds with Sylus and Raf? You're looking at multiple broken beds, couches, tables, chairs, fucking destroyed bathrooms, ruined carpets, you get the idea.

You are ruined every time, even if you're on top. You've gotta call out of work the next day, Zayne goes to work limping, Sylus is overly smug about the whole thing

You can plot against each other and still end up fucked stupid

Zayne x Caleb x Reader (SnowApple)

Zayne is putting y'all in your rightful places. Caleb thinks he has a shot at dominating Zayne and is sorely mistaken by the end of it. You really did try to warn him too, now he can't even walk.

Linkon's best surgeon has a time putting Linkon's best hunter and the Farspace Fleet's colonel in their places. Fucking them both to damn tears is is specialty.

We're looking at one dominant with two switches who lean towards bratty subs whether they want to or not

Punishments go crazy with this throuple

Sylus x Caleb x Reader (CrowApple)

You've never known Caleb to be shy until Sylus gets involved. Caleb couldn't stand him, Sylus found it utterly amusing. You? You just enjoyed the show.

Sylus forced Caleb to watch as he fucked you stupid, tears streaming down your face while he's balls deep and kissing you senseless. In the end, Caleb came untouched and realized that being a brat against Sylus would result in real punishment.

Even with his gravity evol, Caleb can't win against Bossman. And either way, you get to have the time of your life with both of your lovers trying - and failing - to work it out.

Either way, you'll be getting wrecked daily... multiple times.

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cherie-doll · 5 hours ago

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LADS: When You Don't Give Them A Kiss

༻ Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb ༺

₊˚✧ Xavier loves his goodnight kisses. Won't be able to sleep right if you don't give them to him. Which is why he immediately frowned the moment you turned away from him after only saying good night. He had already leaned in closer for you to kiss him when you had cut him off. He's frozen in place, surprised at seeing you laying your head on your pillow without a care in the world; ready to drift off to sleep. But how can you do that to him? Surely you aren't forgetting something? I mean, it's custom by now, you do it every night. It's embedded in his brain to do this, so why are you suddenly being so forgetful. He hesitates but eventually moves in closer, nuzzling into your neck as his arms come around your waist. You complain that it's too hot for him to be doing this, but his response is something along the lines of "too bad". You forgot something important to him so now deal with the consequences; he'll be all up on you throughout the entire night.

₊ ೀ Zayne has a strict routine as a doctor. He wakes up early despite having prepared everything the night before, and as organized as he is, he cannot leave without first feeling your lips on his. It's literally his number one priority every morning before he leaves. He can go the day with forgetting his lunch, or even combing his hair properly, but can no longer wait until he gets to you later that night. Sometimes you'll sleep in and not wake up to give him a kiss and he'll try hanging back hoping you awaken before he has to walk out the door. He's sat at the edge of the bed, his work clothes on and everything ready but just clinging to the hope you remember. And no he won't wake you up, he isn't careless and he'll feel bad if he does. As a hunter, you need that rest and he prioritizes that before his selfish desires.

༄༢ུ࿓ Rafayel will actually do his job for once and go to an art exhibition that Thomas has arranged for him if you give him a kiss. Sort of like a good luck type of thing that makes him feel like things will be tolerable if he remembers the warmth of your lips on his. But this time he's stuck waiting by the front door, tapping his foot against the floor as he impatiently waits for you to return. He brings out his phone to reread the message you had sent, you had gone out and were expected to come back in time to accompany him to art exhibition. But it seems you're running late and Rafayel isn't in the mood to meet up with you there. You call him and are immediately greeted by his attitude. You can hear the slight whine in his voice when he asks why you're not there yet. Truthfully, you feel a little bad to hear him be so distressed. Perhaps you'll make it up to him later.

ᨳ᭬ Sylus isn't letting you off the hook so easily. You came up to him while he was relaxed to tell him you would be going out. As usual, you come up to his spot on the couch and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You tell him you'll be back later and he hums, acknowledging what you've said. But he furrows his brows, his smile disappearing when you just leave to grab your bag. He looks up from his phone to see you ready to take off when you catch his gaze. Oh, if he were more gullible he'd believe that "what's wrong?" face of yours. But he knows you better than that. You can sense the amusement in his voice when he asks "Aren't you forgetting something?". You cock your head trying to keep up the act a little longer before you give in. He had a smug look on his face, knew you wouldn't actually dare to leave his place before properly saying goodbye to him. Plus you would never hear the end of it if Luke and Kieran found out.

❦ Caleb would probably believe your act for a minute max before realizing you're teasing him. After not seeing each other for a couple of days due to your busy schedules, surely a hug isn't all he's getting... right? Your bright smile won't distract him from what he's really after. You feign confusion when you realize his grip on you isn't loosening as you try to pull away from his embrace. You call out his name, annoyed as you make more of an effort to push him away. You're secretly fighting a smile from forming when he only pulls you closer. You huff, telling him to stop teasing you, but he swears it's you who's doing the teasing. He sways side to side with you in his arms, you think about how ridiculous you must look and catch some people staring and hear them exclaim about what a cute couple you two are. Finally, when you no longer want to deprive him you stand as straight as you can to reach his face and give him a kiss. He lets you go after and looks at you, "was that really so hard to do?"

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #caleb x reader #lads xavier #lads zayne #lads rafayel #lads sylus #lads caleb #lads fanfic #lads fluff

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vibrantdream · 1 day ago

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Is it worth it?

That was the question I found myself wrestling with. After all, I had things pretty good as they were. I had a stable income working in my parents' armory shop. I was also not particularly short on offers. Nobility, I am not, but I was still a decent prospect for marriage. My life was both stable and comfortable which made the fact that I was even considering chasing after this lead absolute madness.

Common sense said to settle. Find a suitable partner in town, have children, teach them armorsmithing when they were old enough. Magic could be finnicky anyway, and I'm no mage. I barely have the ability to cast the cheapest and simplest of spells, like a dating spell. I could have cast it wrong. Or perhaps the spell itself was flawed. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time a dating spell proved unfruitful.

A near-certain suicide mission wasn't worth a maybe.

And yet my mind burned. Not only with that name, that honey-sweet name that rolled off my tongue like water over rocks, but with a bright curiosity. I had cast the dating spell almost four months prior. Doubtless, my match had been adventuring then, far too busy to worry about love. So why now? Why cast the spell while trapped in the deepest, deadliest dungeon in history? Who would embark on such a hopeless rescue mission, if that had, in fact, been my match's intent? What good could knowing my name and location possibly do in such bleak circumstances?

I wanted to know. I wanted to know that answer more than almost anything.

I found myself pulling my personal armor out of storage: I had only worn it twice and it was slightly misshapen, having been the first full set I ever made, but that was nothing I couldn't fix now. I fired up the forge, hammering away until it matched the quality of my current work. I spent the next few days inscribing protective spells and sigils on the bracers, and inside the breastplate, referencing our books on magical armor. My father shook his head fondly whenever he found me toiling over it, offering advice here and there, but never berating me. I hadn't told him, but he suspected something.

Neither of my parents were surprised when I told them I was leaving, sword at my waist, armor shining and polished. My mother hugged me and kissed my cheek, handing me a bag full of supplies and provisions.

"Come home safe." She said. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I might not come home at all.

"I will let you go," My father said, "on one condition. You leave that sword here."

"Father, I'm going to need a weapon. I'm going somewhere dangerous," I said.

"I rather suspected you would," He said, "Which is why I think this will serve you better." He turned to a chest and brought out a long bundle wrapped in cloth, which he offered to me.

My heart stuttered. "My great-grandmother's sword?"

My father nodded. "It saw her through entire wars. I think it shall meet your needs nicely."

I slowly reached out and grabbed the hilt as my father unwrapped the cloth. The blade shone brighter than my armor due to the diligent care my father put into maintaining it. My hands weren't shaking, but only because I was terrified of dropping it.

My father removed my sword belt and strapped on a new belt with my great-grandmother's scabbard before he stood back and looked at me. "That's more like it. You be careful out there, now. And you should know you're gonna need a little help along the way: you're not used to adventuring. There's a list in the bag of people and organizations who might be of help. People will recognize that sword and scabbard before you speak a word so take very good care of them."

"I will." I said hastily. "I promise I will. Just like you taught me."

My father nodded and gave me one last hug before I sheathed my new sword and set off to find--and potentially save--my one true love.

It was madness, but I'd do it or die trying.

A new dating spell is trending in the magic world—cast it, and if your perfect match also does, you’ll instantly know who and where they are. Simple. Yours just activated. Their name burns in your mind… and their location? Deep beneath the earth, at the bottom of a dungeon no one returns from.

#fantasy #writeblr #writing prompts #writing practice #adventure

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bytemee · 1 day ago

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۶ৎ LUCKY FOR ME — kim minjeong.

“you’ll be here so lucky for me.”

⌗ in which— minjeong falls in love.

pairings. college!student!winter x college!student!fem!reader

warning(s). fluff, kissing, mutual pining, and let me know if theres more!

word count. 2.2k

authors note. laufey i love you. im also writing chat. its hard to write nowdays...if u guys have short prompts u can send them i need some practice

minjeong had never really been in love before.

she always thought love was supposed to be something you eased into, like a hot bath. something that made sense because when it's with the right person, it shouldn't be a puzzle, something to decipher. but then there was you. loud where she was quiet, messy where she was meticulous, late where she was always on time. a walking contradiction to everything she was, but like they say, opposites attract.

for example, positive and negative, up and down, winter and summer.

the first time she met you was in the library. not in some romantic, serendipitous way, but because she was the unlucky library assistant assigned to track you down for not returning your books. you had disappeared from the library after freshman year, only showing your face again when you absolutely had to. she, on the other hand, had practically lived there.

“you’re a hard person to find,” she had said, arms crossed as she blocked your escape.

“yeah, well,” you had shrugged, giving her a sheepish smile, “i didn’t think anyone would actually come looking.”

she had rolled her eyes, but a little bit of her irritation melted away. you had apologized profusely, even offering to buy her lunch to make up for the trouble you caused. she had told you it wasn't necessary, that it was part of her job, but you were insistent, and she made it her mission to avoid you so you wouldn’t be able to catch her off-guard again.

and then, at the end of sophomore year, there you were again. this time, she was at the coffee shop on campus, sitting with a study group. you had been in line behind her, and the barista had called her name wrong, and you had corrected him. and that was it. the moment that changed her life.

because when she turned around, her nose and cheeks still red from the cold, her dark brown hair falling out of the scarf that covered her head, the sight of you stopped her in her tracks.

you had smiled at her and said, "hey. you're minjeong, right?"

you had known her name.

after that, you kept showing up. in the library, at the coffee shop, even in the dining hall where she usually ate alone. you made excuses to talk to her, slipping into her world so effortlessly that she didn't realize how much she had started to expect your presence until the days felt emptier without you.

you had this way of filling up her quiet world, making everything brighter and more vibrant than she had ever seen before. you didn't just change her life. you changed her.

the way you'd hum softly under your breath when she studied, the way you'd tap her notebook absentmindedly while waiting for her to acknowledge you. you annoyed her in a way she never minded, always finding a way to disrupt her routine just enough to make life more interesting.

she caught herself looking for you before she even realized she wanted to see you. she'd look over her shoulder as she walked across campus, and when you weren't there, it almost disappointed her. sometimes, you'd surprise her, and her heart would skip a beat, but then you'd smile at her and tell her you missed her, and it would start beating again.

sometimes, she didn't understand why you liked her.

but you did.

it had started slowly, but now, the realization that she loved you hit her like a tsunami, and it scared her. it felt like she couldn't breathe, like she had a rock sitting on her chest. because she had never done this before, and even though it was the scariest thing in the world, it was also the best feeling in the world.

minjeong sighed as she put down the pen and picked up her phone. her finger hovered over your contact name, but instead of calling you, she texted:

do you want to join me for a study session tomorrow?

it only took a few seconds for the three dots to appear, followed by

sure! where and when?

tomorrow, 2pm. library.

sounds perfect. can't wait!

minjeong smiled to herself and put her phone back down on the table. she turned back to her book, her face bright red.

the next day, she arrived at the library early. too early. the clock on the wall barely hit 1:30, and she was already flipping through the pages of a textbook she had no intention of reading. every few minutes, she glanced up at the door, waiting for you to walk in.

and when you did—hair a little messy, wrapped up in a scarf that barely matched your jacket, your backpack hanging off one shoulder—minjeong nearly forgot how to breathe.

“hey!” you grinned, sliding into the seat across from her. “you’re early.”

“you’re late,” she teased, though she knew you weren’t.

you laughed, shrugging off your backpack and coat. you pulled out your own stack of textbooks, notebooks, and pencils, setting them down on the table with a loud thud. she couldn't help but smile, watching as you got settled and flipped open your notebook.

minjeong was lost in her own thoughts, so when you spoke, it startled her.

"so, did you invite me here just to stare at me, or…"

her cheeks burned, and she turned away. "sorry. i didn't mean to…"

"oh, no, don't be sorry!" you chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "i was kidding… if it makes you feel better, i was staring too."

"you were?"

"well, yeah." you blushed, ducking your head slightly. "i like looking at you."

minjeong fell in love with you. again.

and again, and again, and again. she can almost rewind time, remembering every moment where you'd shown her a new reason to fall in love with you. it's impossible not to notice when everything about you is perfect. when you make mistakes, it doesn't make her want to run away. instead, it makes her want to get closer. to see all of you, flaws and all.

the first time was when it rained in the middle of spring and neither of you had an umbrella. she offered to share hers, but the wind had other plans, flipping it inside out and soaking you both within minutes. you had laughed, really laughed, and winter had just stared at you, like she had never heard anything like it before.

there was the second time on a summer night when you stayed out too late, sitting on the roof of your dorm, looking at the stars, and talking about the future. she had fallen asleep with her head on your shoulder, waking up the next morning wrapped in your arms and covered in blankets. you had kissed her forehead gently, telling her to go back to sleep.

and the third time was during the fall evening when she found you waiting outside the library, arms crossed, blowing warm air into your hands. "you're late, you know," you had teased, and she had rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. that night, after studying together for hours, she invited you back to her room for the first time.

and here she was again. falling even harder.

the driver grumbled about the frost on the windshield, muttering something about how shitty the visibility was. you let out a slow sigh, sneaking a glance at minjeong’s side profile, then at the driver, then back at her.

“minjeong,” you murmured, your voice so soft and low she almost thought she imagined it.

she turned her head just a little. “hmm?”

and that’s when you leaned in, closing the space between you, your lips pressing against hers.

for a second, she didn’t move—too surprised to react, frozen in place, unsure of what to do. she felt like she was in a dream, like any minute, she was going to wake up. she felt a rush of emotion—an overwhelming, terrifying mix of excitement, joy, and fear, all at once. and then, like an ocean wave, it swept her off her feet.

and finally, after what felt like an eternity, she kissed you back.

your lips were soft and gentle, and she felt like she was melting. like she had been cold all her life, and finally, after years of being numb, she was warm. when you pulled away, her lips still tingling, you rested your forehead against hers, smiling at her softly.

the taxi came to a stop outside the dorm, the engine giving a final sputter as it powered down.

"we're here," the driver announced, sounding impatient.

minjeong’s head was still spinning from the kiss, and you could barely catch your breath. the snow continued to fall softly, each flake twinkling as it landed on the ground. she didn't say anything as she followed behind you, exiting the taxi and walking to the front door of the dorm.

and that’s when you realized—you didn’t have your keys.

you checked your pockets. nothing. a glance at minjeong’s face told you she’d caught on too, and you cursed under your breath.

"i'm so stupid," you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

minjeong reached out and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "you're not stupid."

you sat on the steps of the building, leaning back against the stone railing, and buried your face in your hands. "i can't believe this," you mumbled. "we're gonna freeze to death out here." minjeong sat down beside you, close enough that your knees touched. she put an arm around you, pulling you close, and rested her head on top of yours.

"it's not so bad," she whispered.

you lifted your head, looking at her in surprise. "it's not?"

"no," she said. she smiled, and it made you feel safe. "it's actually kind of nice."

you hummed in agreement before muttering, "roommate’s probably out, though. i’ll just have to call her to come back and open the door." you fished your phone out of your pocket, but before you could call, minjeong grabbed your wrist gently.

"don't," she said, shaking her head. "let’s just… sit here for a while."

you hesitated, then put your phone back in your pocket, leaning into her side. "okay," you whispered.

and that's how the two of you stayed, sitting in the snow, your breaths creating small clouds of smoke that vanished into the winter air. and when you felt her lips press against the top of your head, her warmth surrounding you, her fingers laced through yours, you didn't care how cold it was anymore.

minjeong had never really been in love.

so please forgive her for the helpless haze she's in when you're near.

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angelsforthenight · 2 days ago

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im back and ready to push the submissive pathetic!vi agenda yet again... (nsfw)

jesus almighty i want you guys to imagine her perched over your bed, trembling hands gripping the headboard with her ass up. poor thing wouldn't even be able to shut up: strong puffs of breath leaving her lips every five seconds. you'd sit there waiting amusedly, as you know she'd be expecting something. her entire body is just gagging for it - trembling and wriggling uncontrollably.

she'd call for your name, her inferior voice laced in a meek tone. every single movement would just be so predictable. it's almost embarrassing.

"uh-uh. turn around." you'd say with a little smile never leaving your lips. how could it ever go? this is top tier entertainment, seeing your usual big, sturdy girlfriend be a puddle of goopy mess. vi does as you say with a whimper, as there's pretty much nothing else she can do. one wrong move and you're not touching her for another tedious thirty minutes. you watch as vi arches her back, dog-like whimpers spilling from the back of her throat. you continue this act until you start to feel a little bad. i mean, god, you can fucking see the arousal dribbling pathetically down her thighs.

"my baby doesn't like waiting does she?" you coo, rubbing the pad of your fingers against her sopping folds. vi can only whine in response, too anticipated to worry about speaking. but alas, you like to hear words of affirmation.

"answer." you mutter curtly, commanding at her as if she's a dog. she flinches at your change in tone, scrambling to pick up which right words to say. she really, really wants you to touch her after all, even when it's too hard to think.

"i don't... please touch me. c-can't hold it in much longer... i'll die..." she whines, her knuckles turning white from gripping the headboard as tight as she can. she's always too dramatic for her own good, but you can't help but love her for it.

you hum in response, your fingers finally easing in her waterlogged cunt. your index and middle finger easily slip inside, welcoming you in with excited flutters and the attempt to suck you in completely. a low, pleased moan punches out of vi; one that clearly declares 'finally.'

the pinkette vibrates with pleasure, incoherent babbles slewing from her lips, words you couldn't even begin to understand. it's as if you're stirring her brain into a slushy and you've only pistoned two of your fingers in!

it's absolutely world class when you add a third finger into the mix, pushing them in further. you've grazed against her g-spot for sure, because vi jolts as if electrocuted. an adorable little squeak leaves her lips too: clearly, she hadn't expected that.

"you doing okay?" you chirp.

"mmhmmm..." she drones in response. you decide to let it slide that vi isn't actually using her words, because you can tell that she's on the brink of making a mess all over herself. the rhythmic clenches of her pussy tell you everything you need to know, as well as the way her moans are turning into keens.

you press your fingers in and out consistently, the sound of wet filth overtaking the room like a pack of bees. before you know it, vi's shuddering violently, your name leaving her lips like a reverent prayer.

vi lets out an exhilarated sigh as her weakened body decides it isn't able to hold herself up anymore, slumping on the bed. you giggle and nestle on top of her - nestling on top of her and peppering chaste kisses along her back, coated in a film of sweat.

"thank you... thankyouthankyouthankyou...' she mumbles persistently into the sheets, still trembling a palpable amount.

"no need to thank me, handsome." you'd reply, whispering the words into her skin and hoping it somehow embellishes underneath.

a/n: HI GUYS im back teeheeheeee (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵) im very slooooowly working through your requests and i fear i might not do all bc some are too similar to my previous works, however pls do keep sending more! or not! i love anything u guys say in my inbox! (づ> v <)づ♡

#vi x reader #arcane fanfic #arcane #vi smut #vi arcane #vi x you #vi league of legends #wlw fanfic #wlw nsft #lesbian #lesbian smut #vi fanfic #arcane smut #sub vi #sub vi arcane #wlw smut #wlw ns/fw #lesbianism

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sturnlsstuff · 2 days ago

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GENTLE SEX WITH GHOSTFACE!CHRIS

[smut, unprotected p in v]

requested by @curlyswurlywirly !! not sure if it's exactly what u wanted but i hope u like it

chris could feel something is up the moment you threw yourself at him.

not that he was complaining, but damn, you were moving so quick, almost in rush, frustration was clear in your every move. he thought maybe you were just really horny? after all, you hadn't seen each other for a while since he's been busy the past two weeks, dealing with his 'business'. finding victims and staying undercover was hard, the cops even came close to catching him a few times but luckily he got away. chris hasn't had time for any distractions lately, fully focusing on being the ghostface and keeping his secret, which is why you two stopped with your little hang outs. you didn't have a big problem with it, focusing on your own life but the last few days were awful because of family issues. especially today. you were moody all day, not being able to distract your mind with anything so at some point you texted chris, begging him to come over, and lucky you, he had some free time finally.

he saw that you must've had a hard day, but he didn't really ask since it wasn't really his business. you two just fuck after all.

so he completely lets you have control over everything tonight, hoping that it'll help you with whatever you're going through. his head tilted back against the headboard, his lips slightly parted as he watches you bouncing on his dick like your life depended on it. the way your pussy feels around him sends shivers down his spine, and makes his head spin, but he could see it's not giving you what you need. the movements of your hips are almost desperate and not in a way he's used to, it was like you try to go rough so badly to keep your mind off things, but it's not doing anything which makes you even more frustrated. your eyes are squeezed shut and you don't even glance at his ghostface mask that he had on as always. you barely make any noises besides cursing every now and then, assuring him that something is seriously wrong— you're never quiet with him.

you open your eyes, feeling them filling with tears and a frustrated whine leaves your lips. it's not helping at all.

chris catches that, his grip on your body immediately loosens, a slight fear appears in him that maybe he's hurting you in any way.

"you wanna stop?" he asks, breathing heavily, but you shake your head, knowing that stopping won't help either.

"can't, just..." you bite down on your lip, holding back all the tears. you couldn't figure out what was it exactly that you need, but it was most definitely not this. "kiss me," you mutter, tugging on his mask, not really in a mood for the rough usual sex you two have. "like you mean it. pretend or something, i don't know, i just need something else, please."

you weren't sure what you're asking for exactly, but all you knew is that whatever you two are doing right now isn't working.

you said it softly but it hits chris hard. you need tenderness tonight, something real, and it knocks the breath out of him since he's not used to it at all, especially with you.

his chest tightens, not with lust but with something heavier. he wants to give you everything you need, not take what he wants.

he takes off his ghostface mask, tossing it aside and pulling you into a kiss without saying a word. he kisses you gently, wrapping his arms around your waist and urging you to stop riding him which you obediently do, and he takes the opportunity to flip you over so that you're on your back with him on top. his tongue dances with yours, he starts slowly thrusting into you to match the kiss, wrapping your legs around his hips so he's still hitting the right spot inside you. he makes sure to grind against your clit with each thrust, making you moan into his mouth. his touch is gentler than usual, and it immediately softens your body, melting away the whole tension that has been with you for the past days.

"shit, keep going..." you hum, breaking the kiss to breathe, your fingers tangled into his hair. "this is... perfect..."

"yeah? y'need some different attention tonight, hm?" he mutters against your skin while pressing kisses down your neck. "look how pretty you are, while i'm deep inside you." his lips move down to your collarbone, and he maintains the perfect angle, hitting your g-spot with each movement of his hips. "you feel so good...so tight and wet f'me."

your breath hitched as something in the air changed between the two of you, finally satisfying you fully, causing more soft moans to leave your mouth which he muffles with his own lips. the kiss was slow, but heated, making the whole thing more intimate. chris lets his hands explore your trembling body just as you part your lips, allowing his tongue to slip inside and slowly tangle with yours. your bodies are flush, your hard nipples pressing against his chest making chris groan into your mouth, his hands moving up and down your sides. he's never seen you so vulnerable and needy for something soft before.

"fuck, you take my dick so well," he mutters against your lips, breaking the kiss to look downwards, watching as he slowly slides in and out of you. the sound of your wet pussy echoes in the room, encouraging him to go deeper, wanting to hear you.

you throw your head back, getting lost in the feeling, each thrust pushes you into ecstasy. chris's praise makes your pussy clamp down around him, getting a small hiss from his lips. "fuck, i think she likes that, huh?" his voice low and hoarse, sending shivers straight to your core. "you feel perfect wrapped around me— fuckk, taking my cock like a good girl."

"holy fuck, jesus—" your eyes roll back as the pleasure in your belly starts growing. chris looks up at you, noting the way your body reacts to his words for your future encounters.

"yeaaah, just like that." his hips roll against you slightly with each movement, keeping pressure on your clit. he can feel his own pleasure building at the way your walls suck him in, but he's determined to make you come first. you feel him picking up the pace just a little bit, his length moving in and out of you in a steady rhythm, ripping a loud moan from you. "chris..."

"mhmmm, i know, i know..." he removes your legs off his waist, spreading them wide, bending your knees and pressing them against your chest to get better access, and deeper stroke. "eyes on me, princess. wanna see you falling apart on my dick."

his forehead rests against yours as you stare into his blue, lidded eyes through your long lashes. your blissful expression makes his member throb, making him more desperate to make you cum while he keeps hitting that spot inside you over and over again.

a small whine of his name escapes your lips, your orgasm pulse around him, stealing moans and whimpers from you both.

your back arches up, chris maintains the perfect rhythm as you ride out your high, the feeling of you tightening around him makes him nearly lose control, but he holds back, wanting to milk every last wave of pleasure from your body.

"thaaat's it, good girl..." he stares down at you, admiring what a mess you were for him. he presses a few soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, "more?"

you nod, feeling relieved that it worked and easied your muscles, helping you release all of the unnecessary tension.

he keeps bottoming out inside you, maintaining that maddeningly slow pace that's filling you up completely. "i don't want ya stressin' so much," he mutters against your skin.

you blinked, thrown off by his sudden words and the way he actually was being soft with you when you asked him to. it was so unlike him, leaving you momentarily speechless as the realization hits you. you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around it.

giving him a hum in response, you run your hand through his hair, his hands caressing the skin on your waist and thighs. he presses a small kiss on your lips, "i've got you."

it catches you even more off guard when chris's hand moves up your body, finding yours in the tangle of sheets and slowly, deliberately, he laced your fingers together, pressing them into the pillow above your head. you responded with a small squeeze of your hand and a whimper into his mouth when his lips find yours again, almost like he couldn't get enough of kissing you.

you knew you were in trouble the moment you noticed how safe you feel around a person who was nothing but dangerous for everyone else. what's worse is that it didn't scare you away as it should have.

while chris felt nothing but unease— the kind that settled deep in his chest as you looked at him not with hatred or fear, but something fragile, like trust. it was a look he's never thought he'd see from you, and he wasn't sure how to handle it.

guess you both will have to deal with the consequences later.

#sturnlsstuff ❦ [ghostface!chris]#❦ ghostface!chris x enemy!reader ❦#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x fem reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x fem!reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo blurb

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