#I KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG I FORGOT HIS FACIAL HAIR

[cozy-axolotl]

Day 21: Good job!

[grimmsbride]

HABITS [ curly / reader ]

when it comes to picking coworkers, curly isn’t the most dependable. but.. the same could be said about keeping his feelings in check.

tags / ex - friends with benefits to lovers(?) | bittersweet | oral sex ( fem. receiving ) | slight praise kink | porn without plot | canon-divergence | chubby coded reader | curly isn’t 100% accurate & i am sorry this is my first time writing for him | curly is lowkey a liar but it’s okay | curly is big ( based off fanart mostly but also game ) | pet names | etc. if i forgot something please alert me.

notes / it has been like.. months since i last posted on tumblr. but i am slowly getting my spark back. this has also been cross posted on archive so if you see it there do not be alarmed. my writing is rusty, so please be nice with criticisms i’m quite sensitive 😭 but please do enjoy <3

“You look like shit.” You murmured softly, eyes carrying up the man’s form. You hadn’t expected anyone to be awake at this hour, let alone outside of their quarters. But whether to your dismay or pleasure someone had joined your little excursion, that someone being your beloved Captain; Curly.

Who looked to be teetering between the land of the dead and living. Bags lined those pretty eyes, a little red— surely from strain. When was the last time he got enough sleep? Was a thought that quickly passed your mind. Regardless you decided against asking, seeing as you were positive he wouldn’t have an answer for you anyway.

The Captain— Curly, allowed the corner of his mouth to lift; a humorous sigh escaping him. “Do I? Hadn’t noticed..”

“And here I thought Mr. Handsome prided himself on his vanity and dignity.”

The man shook his head at your usual flirty remarks, glancing about your own form. He took in the makeshift wrap of blankets you held around your pajama-clad body, noticing your feet covered in slippers. Not the proper attire obviously, but reprimanding you just didn’t seem worth it at the moment.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You shrugged, eyes shifting away to glance at a wall. “More like didn’t want to. With so much work to be done I rarely get any time to my thoughts.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“For you.. maybe. I quite enjoy my mind.”

You smiled at the soft chuckle that escaped him, taking the moment to move just a bit closer. Again, your eyes landed upon those dreaded bags; hand rising slowly to his face. You watched as his eyes focused quite quickly, clearly puzzled by your sudden attention. Regardless he didn’t move, instead allowing your palm to press against his cheek— your thumb then moving to trace a bag.

“I’m serious though. It looks like you haven’t gotten sleep in days. Is something wrong?”

A flicker.. just a slight glint, drifted through his gaze. An emotion you couldn’t quite place but didn’t like regardless. You stood silently, watching as his hand rose before your own. Gentle fingers wrapped around your wrist, dragging your hand down his cheek — the abrasion of his facial hair tickling your palm — before pulling it away from him.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about [Name].”

Curly spoke, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. But you knew him. All, too, well. The man could hold water but there were times it spilled over just a little. Even if he didn’t explicitly say it, you knew his concern was something big— something that definitely affected you.

“Captain stuff, huh?” You said slowly, hand pulling away from his own in a dejected fashion. You couldn’t help but feel that way, eyes drifting away almost stubbornly.

“I thought our relationship was above such titles.”

“[Name]—“

You shook your head, Curly clamming up in response. Times like these were exactly why you regretted taking the man up on his offer. The promise of lines not being crossed was a discussion made in the same breath, yet here you were; questioning why exactly your past relations meant little to his decision to be secretive.

But it was just relations.. right? Just sex, a way to blow off steam. People that sleep together with no love shouldn’t act like this anyway.

Your eyes finally lifted from its stubborn gaze on the wall and back to the blonde before you, attempting to seem unfazed by the intense stare he was delivering you.

You forced a smile. “I’m just messing with you, Captain. Lighten up a bit.”

Curly continued to stare before coming close, a single footstep that pressed against the metal beneath the two of you. You nearly forgot how large the male was; broad and tall, staring down at you with those bag lined.. beautiful eyes. He reached over, fingers ghosting the back of your hand for a moment before grabbing it.

This caused you to shiver, eyes widening slowly as you watched the man bring it back to its previous place; right at his cheek. He used his own appendage to assure you cupped his face.

“I know you well enough to know when you’re joking or not, [Name].” Curly spoke lowly, eyes flickering between multiple spots on your face. “Right now.. I don’t want to worry you. It’s something I’ll figure out, but I will let you know soon.. I promise.”

That’s what you hated most about Curly. Even if you were clearly worried about him, he just loved to spin it so he could worry about you. All while easing such worries with the prettiest words. a master of the tongue. In more ways than one.

The flush of warmth that broached your cheeks was hard to ignore, eyes fluttering to the ground as his gaze grew intense. You allowed your thumb to trace his skin, teeth grazing the inside of your cheek. You promised yourself you wouldn’t let such thoughts or feelings resurface. Strictly professional was your own personal mantra.

Yet here you were, holding the cheek of the man you’ve been pining for— desperately wanting to touch more.

And that you did.

Against better judgement, head clear of thinking— you pressed forward, allowing your lips to brush against his own. You felt his breath stutter, body growing still at your bold action. This allowed your eyes to rise, batting thick eyelashes at the man as you spoke:

“Then.. until then, why don’t I take your mind off of it?”

You solidified your words in a single kiss, free hand clutching your blanket that threatened to slip. You felt the hand on your own slowly fall, clearly from shock. You couldn’t blame him. This was going against everything the two of you decided on. Everything the two of you have built since being onboard of this ship.

Even so, you didn’t mind destroying it— nor did your beloved captain.

Large hands slid under your blanket, finding the small of your back. With a pull you were flush against his form, the kiss deepening. Soft lips collided in a gentle battle, that slowly became fierce as time passed. Feelings buried deep began to bubble over, creating that haze that left you breathless. You could only moan as his tongue slid across your lips, effectively parting them. There, Curly took his time to claim your mouth as his once again, coating each and every inch with his saliva.

Your hand slid from his cheek to a large shoulder, gripping him so tightly as your knees began to buckle. Any longer and you were sure you would topple over right then and there.

Desperate for air Curly reluctantly pulled away, staring at that little string that connected the two of you. Heavy breaths escaped you, causing the want developing deep in his stomach to just burn even more. His eyes lifted away from you for a moment, an inner turmoil playing behind his eyes.

He was the Captain. He didn’t have time to play hooky and hook up with an old fling. Curly had duties.. responsibilities and expectations. And yet, as his flicked back to your form; so wanton and palpable— any thought of being the revered Captain of Tulpar escaped quite quickly.

Leaving behind Curly. A man who couldn’t quite help his desires. And a man who wasn’t the best at picking his coworkers.

“Come here.” Curly spoke softly, tugging you close before leaning; slipping his hands under your legs and lifting you easily.

The butterflies in your stomach tumbled and tumbled, threatening to spill from your mouth the moment he stepped towards his room. Effortlessly, as if your body meant completely nothing. Oh how you loved whenever he showed off his strength.

The door slid open routinely, revealing the simple quarters. A bed, desk, and dresser— surely filled with underwear and extra uniforms. The air was cool, perfect yet you couldn’t help but shiver the moment the man laid you across his sheets. A breath caught in your throat as he climbed over you, a hulking mass covering your line of vision only allowing you to see him.

Curly’s hands pressed against the mattress beneath you, leaning down to steal your lips once again. His light beard brushed against your skin, a feeling that caused you to chuckle, a feeling you missed.. feeling. Your hands rose, collecting his face into your palms as you deepened the kiss. Soft smacks of passion passed throughout the room as lips tangled in a secret conversation.

A hand rose from the mattress, treading down your plump form to find the edge of your shirt. His fingers, ever so gentle, slid under the fabric to spread across the span of your warm stomach. You sighed into his mouth, reeling into his touch as it grew higher and higher— soon skimming the bottom of your breasts.

“Curly..don’t tease.” You pulled back to speak, eyes focused on his features. You couldn’t help the pulse between your thighs the moment an impish smile crossed his features.

“I’m not, just.. remembering.”

With his soft murmur Curly was lifting your shirt off your body, placing it somewhere on the bed. Lowering, his breath fanned across your warm skin, gentle kisses pressing against your neck.

You hissed, eyes pinching closed, as your hands lowered to grasp his arms. Your lips parted as a large hand soon covered one of your breasts, gently squeezing whilst his thumb brushed against your hardening nipple.

As much as you wished to beg for more you knew better than to do so. Curly wasn’t a person that rushed when it came to these things. He enjoyed taking his time, building your pleasure bit by bit so when the main event happened you were completely lost in ecstasy. And as annoying as it was to admit, you couldn’t help but love his attention to detail.

The kisses lowered to the valley of your chest, tongue gliding across the hot skin, sliding to your untouched nipple. The man mumbled against your flesh, licking and sucking; delivering such sweet attention you couldn’t help the bated breaths beginning to form.

Should you be worried? The others weren’t close but weren’t far. And you highly doubt any of them would want to be waken by your less than professional “activities”.

Unfortunately, as Curly’s other hand traveled low concern for their sleep slowly drifted away.

You whimpered softly as his hand breached your pants and panties, fingers gliding across your slick slit for a moment before using two to spread you gently. Fuck.. was the simple sigh that escaped you as his middle finger easily found your swelling bud, rubbing it into slow circles.

“Fu..fuck Curly, I’m supposed to be taking your mind off work.”

Curly lifted from your breast, nipple red and slick from his constant attention. “Oh don’t worry, you are.” The man confirmed, allowing a finger to slide lower— pressing against your entrance. With ease it was slipping in, velvety walls swallowing the thick digit greedily.

“Now all I can think about is you, your body, your reactions.. how much I missed when you’d…—“ As another finger of his slid in, the Captain curled them ever so slightly, watching intently as your lips parted wider, a breathy moan escaping your throat.

“— did that.”

His lips curled, clearly delighted. Would it be cocky to admit he loved the way you didn’t change? How he still remembered every single button to press? It was if.. you were made perfectly, just for him.

That, or Curly ruined you for every other man.

The man released your breast for a moment to tug your bottoms down, allowing him to watch his fingers appear and disappear into your wet snatch. Soft plaps escaped from between your pretty thighs, arousal trickling down his appendages and surely to your taint.

His mouth couldn’t help but water, and without thinking the man was lowering closer. Curly’s lips parted above your cunt, breath fanning across the wet heat for a moment before covering your sweet little bud. His free hand quickly came to rest on your lower stomach, only to then decide to hold you down with his forearm.

There; unable to move, his lips sucked your swollen clit, beard brushing across you so deliciously.

A swear dropped from your lips, hands flying to your mouth to cover more sounds that threatened to spill. Your legs fluttered, a warmth brewing deep in your tummy— one you haven’t felt in months. Sure, when you could you rubbed one out — unfortunately without your beloved vibrator that hadn’t made it on Tulpar with you — but this was different. A feeling you couldn’t quite replicate with your own fingers or imagination.

His fingers were just so much longer, bigger; filling and stretching you perfectly. Pushing against your warm walls, curling to press against spots you couldn’t achieve. And even as your clit began to sting at the sensitivity, the pleasure was far more overwhelming.

Tears sprung at your eyes and through a glossy gaze you were taking Curly in. His own eyes were closed, heated breaths and groans fanning against your cunt as he devoured you effortlessly. Such a fucking messy eater. And you loved it.

As the pleasure brewed, forming into a band bound to snap you allowed a hand to lower to his hair, fluffy blonde locks sliding through the gaps of your fingers as you clung to him. Your legs shook, body arching off the bed as your other hand held your mouth so harshly you were sure there were scratches on your cheek.

“Fuck..!” Slammed against your palm in a muffled cry, body clenching as you came undone. You heard an all too familiar groan of pure delight as Curly gently lapped you up, withdrawing his fingers but refusing to remove his arm.

Whimpers of overstimulation did nothing to him, the man continuing to clean you up until he was satisfied. And when he finally was, he rose, the bottom half of his face coated with your mess.

Your hand lowered from your mouth, soft pants escaping. “I hate you.”

“Do you?” Curly was quick to answer, moving his arm to instead grasp your thighs. He lifted you a bit, pulling your bottom closer to him. Once you nodded the man chuckled, thumbs gliding across the marks that were painted across your hips.

“I don’t believe that. Not one bit.”

You opened your mouth to retaliate, but was left silently searching for snarky banter as you watched the captain’s hands move towards his slacks. There, his thumbs caught the waist band of his bottoms, tugging them down to reveal that sharp v-line and much more. Curly was a large man, everywhere. His length was thick, a round tip— bulging red with an angry vein traveling down his pale shaft.

You wondered if a pillow would be better than your hands at this point.

“Thought you were gonna say something..”

Curly teased, pulling his bottoms down the rest of the way and tossing them with your pile of clothes. He could only chuckle as you shook your head, crawling over your form to hover a breath’s away from you.

“Good.”

The man was smart to capture your lips as the moment you felt his length prod and push, you couldn’t help the little cry escaping you— perfectly muffled by his own mouth.

The stretch burned, burned so damn good you could have came again just from that. Curly was a gentleman of course, pushing in slowly, allowing you to grow accustomed to his size after so many months.

About halfway you were pulling away from his lips, head pressed against the pillow beneath you as sharp pants escaped you. Curly’s hand brushed your hip whilst the other cradled your face.

“That’s good.. breathe, you can take it all— can’t you?” His voice was sweet, soothing as his hips continued to push— plunging deep inside of you.

Your eyes were struggling to stay open, pretty groans falling from your tongue, easing into a sigh the moment you felt his hips stop; now fully seated within you. The feeling was mildly uncomfortable, even with his loving preparation, but you could make do.

You have before.

Curly leaned down, pressing his lips to your face, peppering them across his skin. Your forehead, under your eye, your nose, lips, and chin— everywhere he could reach. Attempting to soothe you even more.

Your hands rose gliding under his shirt to instead press against his broad, muscular back. Your finger tips traced little shapes across his skin, soon curling to allow your nails to scrape the moment he moved his hips.

Curly began to pull them back slowly, allowing only the tip inside before pushing forward. A single motion that caused the both of you to shudder, pleasure quickly brewing once more.

Soon enough with little restraint, Curly started a gentle pace. Back and forth, a hand on your waist whilst the other kept him upright. His length pressed into you deeply, pushing against a spongy spot that caused stars to invade your vision.

Your eyes were screwed shut, mouth lax as whimpers of passion escaped you sharply. Your nails dug and dragged into his back, an ache forming in your hips as his simple thrust became drills.

Curly couldn’t help himself at this point. He’s been holding back for far too long. Every interaction, every playful banter, every secret exchange of the eyes— played within in his mind. The man was smart enough to acknowledge how stupid he was. Playing with yours and his feelings, pretending your past didn’t matter; that coworkers were a status that you could achieve.

But no. He was fooling himself. There’s no way in hell, especially after this, was the man going to be able to go back to just being coworkers.

“Curly.. fuck, fuck— they’re gonna hear—!” You cried, legs shaky and wrapped tight around his waist. In the midst of his haze had suddenly increased his speed, ferocity; placing nearly his entire weight behind each thrust. Your eyes were rolling back at this point, nearly lost to the pleasure if it wasn’t for the sudden banging of the bed against the wall.

That fear of being discovered nearly killed your high.

Fortunately, Curly heeded your concerns, his hand lifting from the bed to instead grip the metal railing. You nearly gushed on the spot, watching his eyebrows pressed close, focusing so intently on your pleasure. His grip on your hip nearly mirrored the bed, refusing to release you. Every thrust you took, pushing you deep into the mattress as your breath threatened to leave.

“Mi..missed you.. I missed you so much.” Curly huffed, pants escaping his open mouth as his thrusts never faltered. The wet sounds of skin on skin filled the room, a steady rhythm to accompany his thrusts.

You tugged him closer by his back, shoving your face into his neck with your mouth directly against his ear. You wished to reply, expressing you felt the same exact way— even more. But of course you were left to only moan and gasp, his name coming out in struggled cries that only stirred him up even more.

Moments of your intense passion continued until your peaks grew closer, the two of you struggling even harder to keep your voices level. Maybe you two truly didn’t give a damn who heard.

“Curly!—“ His lips were colliding with yours in moments, sealing the deal as you came undone for the second time that night. You gushed around him, coating his dick with your thick essence— trickling to his sheets.

The man, releasing a final groan right into your mouth, pushing deep; releasing inside of you. Filling you to the brim.

The captain’s hips slowly settled, yet his lips continued to cover your own; moving slowly and lovingly. Curly released the bed frame to instead cup your face, cool fingers an ease to your hot skin.

Soon enough the two of you pulled away, a soft groan escaping you as the man slowly slid out of you. You tried to ignore the rather unpleasant feeling of his release slowly trickling out of you, instead focusing on the man above you— who was currently smiling.

Your swollen lips flattened into a pout, hands rising from his back to instead rising to his face.

“Don’t smile at me, Captain.”

Curly chuckled, hands sliding under you to lift whilst he sat up. Pulling you onto his lap, the man cradled your waist, thumbs brushing across your skin.

“It’s habit at this point, my love.”

You couldn’t help your own smile, arms wrapping around his neck, leaning to give him a small peck.

“Mhm..” You only hummed, eyes closing in a blissful manner as his forehead pressed against your own.

“No matter what, I’ll always be here to support. You know that, right?”

“I know, [Name]. I know.”

[meetmypointlessaddiction]

December Fic Day 5 ~ Party

Summary: You and Logan chaperone for the school's annual Christmas Party.

Warnings: none that I'm aware of but please correct me if I'm wrong

Pairings: pretty sure this is suitable for everyone (fem!reader/male!reader/gn!reader) but I am still new to writing anything other than fem!reader so any pointers are greatly appreciated.

Enjoy and please like and comment if you do. Something as simple as an emoji literally makes my day better so please don't hesitate to comment and obviously reblog to share my work.

December Masterlist

“It’s not even the second week of December! Can someone please explain why we’ve decided, well no actually I had no input in this, why you’ve all decided that today is the day to throw a Christmas Party? Huh?” Logan had been ranting about the annual Christmas party for the last hour and a half. His complaint was that he didn’t have enough time to mentally prepare but you knew that the only reason he was so annoyed was because every other year he’d managed to escape it by, coincidentally, being on a mission that day. 

“Because in case you forgot, jackass, most of the kids go home for winter break on Sunday so we decided to involve them all this year. Isn’t it exciting?” You teased, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh and guess what? I signed us both up for chaperoning! You get to experience it this year, baby. Isn’t it exciting?!” Logan just stared at you, his mouth slightly open as Storm failed to stifle her laugh and Scott just clapped Logan on the shoulder. 

“Yeah baby. Exciting.” Scott mocked and Logan growled, his claws starting to slide from his knuckles before you slapped his arm and shot him a glare. “Party starts at 5. Don’t be late or you're on detention duty till New Years.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

Trying to fight Logan into a suit was impossible. The man was almost 200 years old and yet it felt like you were trying to convince one of the younger students that wearing their pyjamas to class wasn’t acceptable. “You are not wearing jeans and a flannel to this damn party, Logan. I swear to god, put the suit on or I am moving back into my room for the rest of the month.” You threatened and Logan looked betrayed, scowling at you from where he stood in the corner of the room, ‘not sulking’. “3…2…-”

“Alright, fine! I’ll wear the fuckin’ suit. Jesus!” He pulled on the slacks, shirt and jacket, doing up his buttons and belt before glaring at you. 

“And the tie.” You added, holding out the black material for him. He put it round his neck as you took it upon yourself to tie it for him, knowing he'd get impatient and probably rip it to shreds. “There we go, don’t you look handsome.” 

He met your gaze and grumbled. “Ever threaten me with something that serious again and we will have problems.” He said, sternly with a hint of possessiveness in his tone. “What does chaperoning entail exactly?” 

“Logan, your responsibilities as a chaperone are the same as they are every other day of the bloody week. Keep them out of trouble, keep them safe and for the older ones-.” 

“Hands to their bloody selves.” He muttered and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Well I was going to say make sure they don’t get into our alcohol store but I suppose yours works too.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

The festivities had been underway for a grand total of 23 minutes and 47 seconds before Logan stormed over, his signature scowl on his face and his breathing heavy. “Woah Mr Grinch… calm the hell down. What’s wrong? Why do you look like you’ve just caught Scott fucking your mother?” You teased but Logan just growled, pointing over to Jean who was standing laughing with Storm. 

“Santa Claus! Fucking Santa Claus. Did you sign me up for this shit too? Huh?” 

“Oh… no that was not my doing but… you are kind of the best fit, babe.” 

“You think I look like some holly jolly fat bastard who mopes around eating cookies and drinking milk? Thanks bub, real affectionate!” 

“Look, Scott doesn’t have the facial hair and we don’t have a fake beard, Beast has too much facial hair and Kurt is blue for fucks sake. C’mon Logan… for the kids? For Pippa?” 

Pippa was one of the only students Logan had actually taken to in the years he had been working at the school. The 7 year old treated him normally, didn’t try to push his buttons and did nothing but sing his praises to everyone else, so much so that you and the rest of your colleagues were convinced she had a slight crush on him. 

“You’re cruel.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

That was how Logan found himself sitting on the most uncomfortable chair known to mankind, in the corner of the hall, one of the older kids using their power to dye his beard and hair white, in the itchiest red Santa suit and a pillow shoved underneath it, courtesy of Scott. 

The kids took turns sitting on Santa’s lap, telling him the present they wanted for Christmas, which Logan then had to report back to Jean who was dressed as an elf so that Charles could buy each of the children a Christmas present, and then they would collect a bar of chocolate from Storm and go back to dancing their little hearts out to whatever Christmas song Scott played. It didn’t take long to get through all the kids and Logan was quick to wave goodbye to them all and disappear back to your room to change back into his suit. 

When he finally returned, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips in thanks but were rudely interrupted by Pippa tugging on Logan’s sleeve. “Professor Howlett? Professor Howlett.” 

Logan took a deep breath, calming himself down so as not to snap at the poor child. “Pippa. Everything alrigh’?” The young girl nodded eagerly and it was then that you saw Jean and Storm giggling again like teenagers. You excused yourself to walk over to them, leaving Logan talking to Pippa who was animatedly retelling the story of meeting Santa Claus and telling him what she wanted for Christmas. 

“What are you two giggling about? We are meant to be the responsible ones here.” You accused but Storm quickly shushed you, Jean pointing towards the direction you had just come from and you gasped. 

There was your husband, carefully dancing in a small section of the hall with Pippa standing on his feet, laughing loudly as her favourite person in the world tried to teach her how to dance. “Poor girl was riddled with nerves. Wanted us to ask him for her.” Storm said and your heart melted at the sight of the man you loved most being so sweet. “I’d be careful, love. Another few years and you’re gonna have some competition for your man.” 

“Nah… pretty sure only I am strong enough to handle Logan Howlett’s infamous temper and stubbornness but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Dividers: @coolcatsgraphics

I'm also on A03 :)

[cjlouwho]

In This My Weakness

Summary: A week before the wedding, Buck gets a devastating call that his parents won't be coming.

read below or on ao3. I'm thinking of making a part two as well, but this fic can be read alone.

Tommy could tell something was wrong before Buck even hung up the phone. His smile had all but disappeared and the gleam that was usually always in his eyes was now replaced by a cloud of darkness.

Tommy's arm instinctually reached out to rest on the back of the couch, giving Buck the perfect spot to fall into. “What's wrong?” he asked, Buck gripping his phone tightly, staring down at it.

“They're uh- they're not coming,” Buck answered, his voice cracking.

Tommy was confused. He hadn't actually heard the phone call. Buck had been in the kitchen of their new place when he answered, then quickly stepped outside. Tommy had only been reading his facial expressions through the glass door.

“Who's not coming where?” he asked slowly.

Buck sighed. He bit the bottom of his lip before responding. Tommy knew that was something he'd do when he was trying not to let his emotions take over. “Mom and dad,” he replied, “to the wedding. They're not- um, they're not coming to the wedding.”

“What?!” Tommy turned to better face Buck on the couch. “What do you mean they're not coming to the wedding, Evan?”

Buck shrugged. Tommy knew he was barely holding it together, trying to play it down, make it seem like it didn't bother him as much as it really did. But, at least to Tommy, Buck was a terrible liar.

“Evan, honey, speak to me, please. Why aren't your parents coming to our wedding?”

Another shrug, but Buck looked away from his phone this time. He glanced over at Tommy, who could now see the redness in his eyes. He was fighting to keep the tears away.

“They, um, th- they said they had planned a cruise like a year ago and forgot until now, apparently.”

Tommy ran his hands through his hair, eyes wide, feeling more confused now than before. “I'm sorry, what? Evan, that doesn't make any sense.”

“I guess they didn't get insurance for the cruise, so if they cancel they don't get their money back, and they completely forgot until they got a reminder email this morning.” Buck shook his head and let out a laugh. “I guess I shouldn't be surprised.”

“No, you should very much be surprised. They can't get money back for a cruise so they cancel on their son's wedding? This doesn't make any sense. Should I call them? I'll call them.”

As Tommy went to reach for his phone, Buck laid a hand over his, stopping him. “No, Tommy, don't. I- I really appreciate it, but it's fine. Really. I'm fine.”

Buck patted Tommy's hand, then got up and started making his way back into the kitchen. He had been in the middle of cleaning some things up when he got the call, so he needed to go finish that.

Except, at least to Tommy, the conversation was very far from over. So he got up as well and followed Buck.

“I just don't get it,” he said. “Can they switch dates? I've had to do that for trips before.”

“I asked that. But whatever cruise they're going on doesn't go back to those same places for a few months, or something... I don't know. The answer was no, though.”

“What all did they say? I feel like I'm getting a third of the story here.”

“They said what I told you. Can't make it, have a cruise, no refunds, send their love... and a blender, I guess.”

“We already have two blenders.”

“And now we'll have a backup for our backup.” Since they got into the kitchen, Buck had been avoiding eye contact. He was keeping busy, moving dishes from the drain to their spots in the cabinet, clanging silverware together as he tossed them into a drawer, and even moving spices from their usual spots on the spice rack to new spots.

“Well, should we- should we change our date then?” Tommy asked. Yes, they both wanted to get married on the anniversary of the day they first met but, if they needed to adjust for the Buckley's, they would.

The question stopped Buck in his tracks. Still turned away from Tommy, he lowered his hands to rest them on the counter. “We're not changing our date.”

“Evan.”

“No,” he doubled down, firmer this time. “We're not changing our dates. If they can't make an effort to show up, then they just won't be there.”

Now Tommy was starting to get somewhere. Sometimes it took a minute, but Buck would always eventually let his true feelings out.

“If you're sure.”

“I am.” Buck finally turned to face Tommy. He wiped at his eyes, letting out a humorless laugh. “I really thought we were getting somewhere, you know? I thought... I thought they cared.”

“Ev, I think they care, they just-”

“Prioritize a cruise over our marriage.” Buck finished.

“We could Facetime them,” Tommy offered weakly.

Buck shook his head. “No, if they- if they can't show up they don't need to be there at all.” He wiped at his eyes again, but this time the tears couldn't be held back. He felt like a little kid again, his lip trembling, head down, trying to quiet his sobs so his parents couldn't hear him.

But his parents weren't there this time; Tommy was. He was there, and he was wrapping Buck up in a hug before Buck even realized he had crossed the room.

He held on tight, clutching the back of Tommy's shirt. His shoulders shook with the force of his cries, but Tommy held on.

He always held on. His strength, both mentally and physically, kept Buck upright during his toughest moments.

Buck did the same for Tommy too. That's why this relationship worked so perfectly. They didn't go fifty-fifty here; they both gave one hundred percent of themselves.

“I re- really wanted them th- there,” he managed to get out through little breaths.

“I know, I know,” Tommy soothed, running a hand up and down Buck's back.

“They were s- supposed to walk me down the a- aisle.” He pulled back from Tommy just enough to look up at him. “Oh God, what are we gonna do about that?”

“Hey, hey, don't worry about it,” Tommy said, bringing his hand up to Buck's face. He used his thumbs to gently wipe the tears from his cheeks. “We'll figure something out. We don't have to do the walking down the aisle, or my mom can walk us both, or we'll walk together, or-” he paused, “or you could ask Bobby and Athena.”

Buck sucked in another breath, contemplating the idea. “That's- You think they'd do that?”

Tommy smiled softly. “Of course they would. They wouldn't hesitate for a second.”

“Bobby's already doing the ceremony though.”

Tommy shrugged. “Doing things a little differently than normal is the Buckley way, isn't it?”

Buck managed a shaky laugh. “The Buckley-Kinard way now. Sorry you're stuck with me.”

Tommy shook his head. “I'm not.” He placed two fingers under Buck's chin, just like the night he first kissed Evan. The night he tried to play it cool, all while his heart was racing and mind filled with a million different thoughts. He kissed him softly, slowly. He could feel Buck's body relax, some of the weight from the last few minutes falling away.

“I love you, Evan.”

Buck reached up, running his hand through the back of Tommy's hair. There were a lot of people that told Buck they loved him. Some, he believed, others... not so much. But there was one person who he believed it every single time, and he was gonna marry that man in a week, no matter who was or wasn't there.

“I love you too.”

[takenbypeter]

Could you please do Wonka X reader where he has a bad nightmare about the reader leaving, so she comforts him🥹 maybe you can, if you'd like, add that she confessed her love towards him for the first time at those moments. <3

Bad Dreams

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 652

Author’s note: Sorry I took forever with this request. I totally forgot about the confessing of love part, I’m sorry 🫣 I still have your one last request to take care of which I’m currently working on so just keep a look out and thank you for your patience 💕

Willy was acting strange.

Okay, stranger than usual.

You didn’t know what his problem was but ever since the morning he’s been giving you odd side glances, almost as if he pitied you? No, he pitied himself? You didn’t know what it was exactly but all you knew is his eyes held this weird sadness to them, one you’ve only seen a few times.

The whole morning went by like that with him shooting you the curious, sad looks, but still you just let him be.

As the day progressed though, you noticed that Willy became more…touchy.

While he spent that whole morning practically fearful to be near you, now it seemed that he constantly wanted to have a hand attached to your skin at all times.

His hand would start in yours, then he’d raise it, meeting his lips to your skin, and while you did appreciate the little point of contact, you couldn’t help but feel something was wrong because he still held that sad expression.

The day continued on and by the time the evening arrived Willy had upgraded from his hand in yours, to practically snuggling against your chest as you lay down on the shared bed with a book in your hand while your other hand played with his curls.

As you twirled his hair between your fingers you felt his head adjust and peering down, you watch as he yawns, his mouth opened wide for the fifth time in a span of twenty minutes.

“Go to sleep,” you instructed but the chocolatier immediately denied the advice. Initially you let him be but after one more yawn you decided it was time for you to sleep anyway.

Setting the book aside, you tugged the lamp string down to turn the light off. But before you can get too comfortable you feel Willy’s arm reaching over, turning the dimly light back on.

That was it, you waited all day for some sort of explanation for his odd behavior but now you had to get to the bottom of it.

“What’s going on?” You questioned as you pulled yourself away from him.

“I just don’t want to go to sleep,” is all he said, as if that was the reason behind all his actions today.

“And why is that?”

He was silent for a Monet his head tilting from side to side as he appeared to be battling his thoughts until finally, “…I don’t want you to leave.”

Out of all the theories that were encircling your mind, that was surely not one of them.

You sat up, intrigued by his words, leave?, “what are you talking about?”

“Last night I dreamt that you left. Everything was normal, I went to bed and when I woke up you were just gone. But then I woke up! Actually woke up and it was all just a dream but…it felt so real.”

Your facial muscles softened at that. Why would he think you’d actually leave him? You never made any indication of that, at least none that you can think of.

You collect your thoughts and bring yourself back down to meet the boy whose expression suddenly made sense.

“Listen I would never leave you. That’s crazy, you know that right?”

Willy grinned sheepishly, “it just felt really real,” he mumbled out.

“Hey,” you shout garnering his full attention, “I will not leave you. The day I leave you is the day people float.”

A silence filled the room as Willy processed your words. He opened his mouth to counter, knowing that was already a possibility, but you cut him off, “I’m kidding, I know your hoverchocs do that. But I still meant it, I will never leave you.”

You could tell your words at least calmed him a little as his body tension lightened and his downturned eyes lifted a little.

You meant what you said, and he knew that.

[pjisskullourful]

𝙁𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙂𝙊𝘿

😈 Ethan × reader

18+ readers only!!!🔥 sex demon does explicit shit, a lot of explicit shit

° Ethan Torchio/female reader insert

wordcount:::: 13,519

° impeccably requested by an anon: anxious/gloomy/perpetually stressed (a med student? Stem girlie?) y/n is too busy to date and isn’t very experienced for the same reason but one day something happens and the fomo hits—her sadness, pessimism, unexplored potential is so powerful she accidentally manifests incubus!ethan ° got your own request in mind? send it here! but for more control& priority status hit me up for a commission

° lyrics stolen from cobrah

° [ITA:] cazzo: fuck

getting stronger, going harder than your favourite God ...

It was another Saturday night of sitting alone in your apartment because you had been too tired from the week to make plans. The slog of med school continued, taking up all of your time while you felt like you were no closer to leaving the student phase of your life.

Your friends had invited you to go out with them. But as much as they sang the praises of their favourite nightclub, you knew that you wouldn’t really enjoy your time at The Den. You just didn’t get clubs. You had yet to figure out where the fun was supposed to be derived from. It had only ever been an overwhelming and overpriced experience for you.

But when Amandine began texting you from the club, you did feel that little sting of regret. With nothing to do but stare at the screen of your phone, you worried what you were missing out on. You felt less secure in your decision to stay home.

if i find a guy thats your type can i give him your number? Amandine’s words appeared on your screen.

Maybe on another night you would have laughed at this strange question. But right now you were just feeling down. How do you know my type? I don’t even know my type.

But Amandine didn’t let you shake her from this unexpected goal. i’ve been shopping with you so much, i know your tastes.

Your best friend of so many years, you knew that she didn’t mean you any harm. She wanted only the best for you.

Get their Insta handles for me and I’ll judge for myself, you replied.

This didn’t threaten your sense of safety too much. You could keep yourself in your comfort zone, not treading the uncharted territory of romance unless you really wanted to.

always judging, she said back. if you’re not careful you’re gonna judge your whole life away.

You just stared at these words, completely lost on how to respond. There was no way for you to defend yourself against what was essentially the truth.

You were the least experienced of all of your friends. You were the odd one out when it came to conversations about relationships, sex or men.

You shut down any pitying sentiment by stating that you were waiting for the right guy. Some days you felt extremely patient, or you forgot about the wait.

But on other days, your insecurities would be louder, more distracting. You wondered why you weren’t following the same timeline as everyone around you. Was it because there was something wrong with you, and the perfect man had seen it and already decided to avoid you? You worried about staying a virgin for a very long time because you didn’t know how to change it, which prompted more waiting.

Your thoughts and views of yourself didn’t improve as the night wore on. Amandine started to send you usernames of the ‘talent’ she found for you amongst the crowd.

But you couldn’t see yourself with any of these men. The first one had an aesthetic combination that you couldn’t find appealing - the length of his hair, his style of glasses and facial hair reminded you of someone you had gone on a few painfully awkward dates with. The next guy looked like a fuckboy. The next one had photos of himself holding different fish he had caught. The next guy’s Instagram featured photos of him only dressed in tailored suits, with extensive captions, as if the photos were prompts for essays.

You felt nothing when you looked at these men. Maybe it would be different if you were standing in front of them. Maybe then you would be able to feel the sparks that you had been waiting for, that hadn’t been present on any of the dates you had been taken on.

You were feeling bitter as you typed a lie to your friend. You told her to give her matchmaking skills a rest because you were going to sleep. You claimed that you had an early morning shift tomorrow at the café where you worked.

You thought you knew what she was thinking about you right now, it was something she had shared with you in the past - you didn’t know what you wanted, but your standards were way too high. You were aware that you were more likely to tell your friends what you didn’t find attractive, than talk about what you did like. You couldn’t pin down exactly what your type was, only what it wasn’t.

You turned the volume of your phone off and placed it face down, not wanting to give it another second of attention. You switched off the bedside lamp and began getting comfortable in your bed.

For a while you didn’t think that you would be able to fall asleep, not when your mind was racing. You still felt bitter, making a very long list of all of the things that you were missing out on. Then you began to rank these items based on how much of your life you were likely to spend continuing to not have them.

Then you got stuck on a specific idea of how nice it would be to have the comfort of cuddling with a man right now. You had never fallen asleep in someone’s arms before. You wondered how it would feel.

You were certain that you didn’t want to do it with any of the men Amandine had deemed to be your type tonight.

But who would you want to do it with, who were your options? You wanted someone who looked like Heath Ledger, but specifically how he had looked in 10 Things I Hate About You, with long and dark hair. Or someone who looked like Johnny Depp, but only from the early ‘90’s. Or someone like Jason Momoa, but not when he was doing that tough guy angry face.

You realised you were falling asleep when you lost track of thoughts, or they just stopped making any sense. Your mind couldn’t clearly give you an image to soothe you. It was all a muddle of ideas, your emotions still running with more power than usual. But you were already drifting off, unable to do anything beyond observe these feelings.

Loneliness.

Lust.

Frustration.

Uncertainty.

Desire.

Pessimism.

*** *** ***

The first thing that your bleary eyes saw were numbers in red - 3.33. Damn, it was way too early for you to be awake.

You were so displeased by the time, focused on this and not noticing what was wrong with what you were seeing. It took a few seconds before you realised it: the numbers on your digital clock were usually green.

This made you flinch before you raised your head, starting to fully (begrudgingly) wake up. You felt disorientated, much more than usual. There was something different about this bedroom you had been inhabiting for the past three years.

Then you realised why you had stirred in the first place: someone was knocking on the front door. Even though you were hearing it with your own ears, the insistent rhythm didn’t seem real to you.

You sat up, forcing yourself to grapple with your apparent reality. You took another look at your clock, seeking greater clarity. The numbers were back to their green hue, but they still read that ridiculous hour of three in the morning.

You had no idea of who could be at your door. There were no earlier arrangements that had slipped your mind. Nor were there any past instances that you could assume this to be a repeat of.

But the person seemed determined - surely this would only come from being in the right place at the right time.

You swung your legs out of the bed. You tried to ignore the fear that was like a little pit in your gut, because it was just over-dramatics.

Valentina or Amandine or one of your sisters was pulling a surprise on you. Someone that you knew had caught you off-guard by organising a delivery from Uber Eats - your brain produced this as a solution and you found it to be logical. You also liked it because it wasn’t threatening. You attached yourself to this theory as you walked towards the front door, the fear a little easier to write off.

There were six quick knocks, then a pause would follow before another burst of six knocks came. Your movements felt automatic as you willed yourself to not put too much thought into this scenario.

You reached the door and heard six more knocks. Before you could get freaked out, you turned the knob and opened the door, the security chain stopping it only a few inches from the frame. You looked out, the light behind you illuminating the doorstep.

You didn’t see anything in the hands of this stranger. It was just some guy, lacking any kind of context. But you didn’t just shut the door again, you let him make eye-contact with you as your heart positively rushed.

He addressed you by your name, not struggling over the pronunciation for even a second and you didn’t hesitate to nod. “Can I come in?”

You started to complete the action of unlocking your door without thought, against your better judgement. Once you realised what you were doing, you were horrified and you wanted to stop. But you couldn’t make yourself stop. It was as if you were watching the actions of someone on TV, so disconnected. This brought the fear into the forefront, combined with confusion.

Once the door was fully opened, he very calmly walked into your home. He wasn’t trying to intimidate you - he didn’t rush at you or brandish any weapons.

But you thought about how close you were to the kitchen. The sharpened cooking knives were the key to defending yourself against an attack.

“You can close that, there's nobody with me.” He said and you were following through with his instruction before he had properly finished speaking.

The action happened without you realising, it was as if someone else was in control. It made you feel cold inside, but you couldn't make yourself act any differently.

You were wide-eyed staring at this man, trying to gather all of the information that was available to you. He looked to be about the same age as you, no lines on his face, which was made up of strong angles. He was clean and well put-together, dressed only in black. He didn't quite look real to you, from the intricate lace on his undershirt to the perfectly swept back long hair - it all looked too good, it didn't fit with the ordinary surroundings of your home, your reality. He carried nothing with him, he was just some guy in a leather jacket.

“Who are you?” You asked, your insides trembling as you stood opposite the broad-shouldered stranger.

“You can call me Ethan.” He said. There was nothing threatening in his tone and his accent was typical to your ears.

“Because that's your name?” You asked.

“One of them. It's the only one you need to worry about.” He said.

You were pleased to find that you could speak more - you still had some control. “But who are you? What are you doing here?”

“You summoned me.” He said simply. He was so secure and confident, certain that he was right.

“I- uh- I didn't…” You said. You watched for his reaction, hoping you weren't about to unknowingly provoke him. “I don't know who told you to come here or why. But I didn't ask you to come, oh at all. I was literally just sleeping in my bed and- uh, sorry you came all this way, but…”

“Did you manifest something?” He asked. “Maybe as you were falling asleep, just as you were slipping from one state to the other?”

“Manifestation isn't real.” You stated.

His calm demeanour didn't falter. He walked closer to you, and your gut clenched as the rest of your body froze.

He reached out and grabbed you just above the elbow, where your skin was bare. He laid his fingers on you then pinched. The twinge of discomfort was strong and immediate, making you gasp, flinching away a little.

Thankfully he didn't pinch you for long, releasing his hold and a small smile began on his lips. “That felt pretty real, huh?”

“I don’t understand.” You said.

You didn't know how to feel, it was all just adrenaline keeping you upright and alert. Were you in flight or fight?

“Yeah, they always send me to the clueless ones.” He said, backing off a couple of steps. He was still close enough that he could grab you and you didn’t doubt that he could physically overpower you. But it didn’t seem like that was about to happen.

“Could you help me to be, uh, less clueless?” You asked.

“Let’s sit down, hm? There’s really no point standing around here when you’re not about to show me the door.” He said.

He didn’t wait for approval or guidance from you, just turning and leaving from this area. He left the entryway, wandering into your lounge room and you instantly followed after him. He looked like a regular visitor to your home, there was something so natural about the way he just sat down on your couch, seeming to get comfortable at once.

“What’s next, I offer you a fuckin’ drink?” You asked, trying to make a joke to cover your unease.

“Such a good hostess. Water is fine for me, sweetie.” He said.

You turned your back on him, giving him another shred of your trust. You went into the kitchen and your first action wasn’t to go for the knife block. Instead you got a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, him calling you sweetie rang in your ears as you did so. You didn’t get anything for yourself, you couldn’t tell if you were thirsty or not.

You walked back into the living room and his dark eyes were on you immediately. His stare was so intense that it gave you a rush of heat in the depths of your gut. You had never experienced something like this before.

“Thanks.” He said. “Sit with me.”

You did it, sitting on the same couch as him. He turned to fully face you, more of that strong stare - what was he looking for?

“How did I summon you?” You asked.

“Great question.” He said. “And a great opportunity for me to find out just how sceptical you are. There’s boundaries that separate one realm from another…” You furrowed your brow. “And when you’re falling asleep those boundaries get less solid- imagine curtains and how they move and sway, things can slip through because it isn’t firm, it isn’t air-tight.

“And what slipped through was your manifesting. You weren’t tied down by reality, neither were your desires. You wished bigger than you would have if you thought for a second that anyone would hear. But desperate wishes like that- it’s what my kind are always listening for, we’re obsessed with it.

“Your wishing, or manifesting, or whatever you want to call it, slipped through to a more powerful, more mystical realm: mine.” He said. “Does that explain how you summoned me?”

It was like you had happened upon a puzzle. Several of the pieces were in place, connections formed, but the majority were scattered about in an unhelpful mess. And there wasn’t a reference image for you to know what you were working toward. But this stranger knew what the picture was supposed to be.

“Kinda. If I just put my scepticism to the side, I guess I can sort of understand what you’re trying to say.” You said.

“Good girl.” He said with an encouraging smile.

If you dropped the want to label everything as crazy, then you could proceed forward. “You said something about your kind- um, what kind is that?”

“I’m an incubus.” He said, looking amused now.

You couldn’t keep yourself from laughing, the nerves making it more high-pitched than you were used to hearing from yourself. “Alright, now I know that you’re in the wrong place, whoever told you to come here is lying to you. I didn’t summon you- why would a fuckin’ virgin summon a sex demon? You’re in the wrong house with the wrong girl, I hate to break it to you.”

You were embarrassed after saying that, silent as you sucked on the inside of your lower lip. You didn’t know why you had said it. Your absence of sexual partners wasn’t anything this stranger needed to know, but you had almost eagerly given him the information.

He didn’t have much reaction, taking a sip of water. He didn’t agree that he was in the wrong house, making no moves to get up and head for the door.

“Would you like me to act surprised that you’re a virgin?” He asked and you started to avoid his eyes, which seemed to see too much. “Because that’s what people usually do, right? They simply cannot believe it, and I see how it could catch them off-guard.

“But I already knew. You would have to work hard to surprise an incubus.” He said. “I’m in the right place, that’s why I know so much about you, darling.

“So you know a little about incubus? Enough that you didn’t need to ask for clarification.” He said.

“I’ve heard of them, I don’t know if I believe they’re real. But I’ve seen, um, stuff online.” You said.

He curiously tilted his head to the side. “Stuff?”

“Porn.” You said before you slapped a hand over your lips, your eyes growing wide. Your embarrassment skyrocketed more, you were physically uncomfortable and there was a blush in your cheeks hotter than you had ever felt before.

“It’s okay. In fact, I would say that’s a pretty common way for the word incubus to get on someone’s radar.” He said.

You gradually lowered your hand, speaking in a very small voice. “I don’t know why I said that.”

He gave your knee a pat, which felt a little condescending. “Don’t worry too much about it, baby. It’s just because I’m compelling you, it makes you more agreeable.”

“Are you controlling my mind?” You asked.

“Yes and no. The thoughts that you’re having are still your own, I can’t mess with that. It’s your actions that I’m having a kind of influence over. They must have covered this incubus talent in those very educational videos you watched.” He said teasingly, and your cheeks continued to flame. “Are you still unsure if me and my kind are real?”

You stared down at your hands, a noticeable shake in both of them. “I guess it’s- in a really weird way, it’s the most logical explanation.”

“Now you’re getting it, just go with it.” He said. “Do you know what incubus do?”

“I don’t know, you have kinky sex with people.” You said.

“We make deals. Being from a different realm and all, I can give you things that you would never be able to get for yourself. I could grant a wish for you.” He said.

You lifted your eyes slightly, getting a little closer to looking at his pleasing face again. “A wish?”

“Yeah. Well, within some limitations. I can do more than you, but I can’t do everything.” He said. “But I’ll tell you if your wish is possible or not before we do anything, darling.”

You looked up, finding the courage to meet his eye. And when you did, you began to smile for a reason that you couldn’t name. You didn’t mind how intimidated you felt, you supposed you were getting used to it.

“Do you like it when I call you that?” He asked.

You licked your lips. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Yeah, it gives you a sense of comfort, right? One that you didn’t know you needed.” He said.

He moved his hand slowly, giving you ample time to tell him to stop. But you didn’t want to, you were content to watch him place his hand on your knee, then keep it there.

“Do you wanna have kinky sex with me?” You asked.

“Very much.” He said without hesitation. “It is literally the whole reason why I’m here. Do you want to have kinky sex with me?”

You hesitated, getting overwhelmed by the possibilities. It was more than just stepping into uncharted territory. It was having to walk into uncharted territory wearing 10-inch high heels with absolutely no practice beforehand.

“I- I’m not still a virgin because of some plan, seeking virtue or anything. I don’t like the thought that I’m gonna meet someone who is so turned off by it and I don’t like feeling like my friends are pitying me every time it’s brought up.” You said, continuing this streak of sharing so much with him.

“We could so easily get rid of that label forever.” He said. “And I know that you don’t want to lose it to someone who’s going to treat you, your body and your pussy like it’s all made of glass.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t want someone who is gonna be so gentle and boring, you know? It should be significant, not basic and just missionary where I don’t learn anything.”

“You would learn so much from me, darling.” He said, easing his hand up and onto your thigh.

You swallowed. “I only want to kiss you ‘cause you're in my mind telling me that's what I wanna do.”

“No, I told you I'm not changing your thoughts.” He said. “I'm in your head to tell you that you can kiss me. But don't get ahead of yourself. I'm here to make a deal, you have to tell me what you want first.” 

“My wish?”

“Yes, and please don't bore me by asking for good grades. Make it something that's worth me coming all this way.” He said.

“Um… so I'll just say it and you'll tell me if you can, like, do it?” You asked.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Could you promise me success? I don't need you to give me my dream job right now, I just don't want all this hard work and shit to be for nothing.” You said, more shy to say this than some of the other exposing comments you had made to him. “I need to know that I'm not doing all this for nothing, I want to end up someplace where I'm fulfilled and-... Is that too vague, or…?”

“No, it's perfect and I can do that. I can put that into the universe for you and make sure that you get to where you wanna go, not toiling away at something beneath you.” He said. “But you have to give me your body, just for tonight, that's all I need to make your wish come true.” His hand was up quite high on your thigh now. “And if you think about it, we're taking care of two wishes: ensuring your success in the medical field and getting rid of that troublesome virginity.

“But it’s up to you, darling.” He said.

You were glad when there was a pause after this. You didn’t see yourself going through any automatic movements. It wasn’t like before where you didn’t feel the control over your body. Now you knew that you weren’t watching someone on television, this was conscious consent.

And you made the conscious effort to share it with him. There was still so much of this puzzle unsolved. The only thing you knew for sure was that this devastatingly handsome man wanted to sleep with you and holding onto that kept you from getting distracted by everything else.

You leaned forward, more of that intoxicating adrenaline fuelling you as you aimed to cross the distance between him and you. He watched you getting closer and it was so nice to know that you weren’t about to be rejected.

Your eyes went down to his lips and you weren’t thinking of the other people you had kissed before this. This would be the most significant kiss of your life.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth met his. He was so warm and so firm as he instantly kissed you back. He rested each of his hands on your face and you moved closer.

You were invigorated, your heart pounding as you felt more-and-more of his body heat. You laid your open palm on his chest, feeling his hot skin through the thin, pretty material of his shirt. He tilted his head slightly and your bottom lip slipped in between both of his. As his fingers caressed your cheeks, you started to feel his tongue on your lip.

The desire was beginning to pool between your thighs, you were so aware of it. You wanted to explore everything that went with it.

He barely broke the kiss to speak. “Good girl, good fucking girl.” He kept kissing you as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle and started to ease you closer. You went with this, feeling like you could melt in his embrace. As you felt more hints of his tongue, you knew you had made the right choice - you felt ready and excited.

“Do you want me to grant your wish?” He asked.

Amongst the flurry of kisses you almost didn’t want to answer, you just wanted to experience more of his mouth. You kept close, his breath still on your face as you spoke. “Yes, please yes.”

“Are you going to do whatever I say to get it?” He asked.

“Yes, yes I will.” You said, you had never felt so willing in your whole life, with very little to hold you back.

“You’re getting this needy tone in your voice that is just so sexy.” He said, his fingertips still savouring the texture and heat of your cheek. “You aren’t like the other people I meet who just want this…” His other hand had slipped under your shirt, rubbing at the small of your back. “You need it.”

“I really do, Ethan.” You said, surprising yourself with how you could just leave shame behind.

“You don’t want anyone to be too gentle, which is fucking perfect. I’m not gonna be, you and me are gonna find every one of your limits and that’s gonna be so much fun.” He said, making you smile. “But I am gonna ease you into it, we won’t start with the most intense and feral stuff.”

You looked at the face of this stranger, not seeing anything that brought you fear, you just kept feeling more intrigued. “What are we going to start with?”

“You’re gonna show me what you can do with that mouth, show me that you’re worth being my fuck doll.” He said. “You’ve got to earn the favour of my powers. Take your clothes off, you won’t need them going forward.”

You felt a lack of confidence as you began to remove your clothes, showing him more than anyone had seen before. Maybe he thought it would help to make things more even, taking off his leather jacket. You weren’t sure if you felt less uncomfortable, but looking at his impressive arms did distract you from your insecurities. As you pushed down your pants, he reached down to take off his boots. But he didn’t make any moves to remove his shirt or pants, meanwhile you were taking your panties down.

“Be a good girl now and kneel right here.” He said, pointing to a spot on the ground in front of where he sat on the couch.

You knew the tiles were going to be cold and hard on your bare knees. But you made the move anyway. Your need to prove yourself to him dulled your other thoughts down, your perceptions not quite the same as usual. He changed how he was sitting, placing both of his feet on the floor, but leaving enough room between his legs for you to fit. You placed yourself here as he started to unbuckle his belt.

“You don’t have to be nervous, darling.” He said, opening the fly of his jeans.

Your eyes were wide, with no prior experience to guide you, all that you could think to do was stare at him. This wild encounter kept unfolding and you were as daunted as you were intrigued.

“I know you’ve never sucked a cock before, so you’re gonna start with my balls.” He said, reaching a hand into his underwear. “You’re gonna worship them, put them in your mouth, cover them with so many kisses. Then when you’ve proven that you can please me, then you’ll get my cock.”

Your mouth dropped open when his cock was out and directly in front of your face. The stiff length was bigger than the toy you kept in your nightstand. You imagined that it would be quick to overwhelm you.

“Um…” Your stomach was twisting and you wondered if your excitement had given you a false sense of your capabilities. “That’s, like, really fuckin’ big.”

“I’ll teach you how to take it.” He said. He held the shaft close to the base, while his other hand played with your hair, smoothing it at a soothing tempo. It was hard for you to know where to put your eyes - did you meet his, or were you supposed to be looking at this intimidating boner?

“Don’t forget that it isn’t your starting point. My balls are first.” He said and he changed how he held it, lifting the length so that less of his balls were hidden. “You can handle those for me, can’t you? Surely you can, in exchange for the future that you want.”

You licked your lips and began to lean in, thinking about things you had seen in dirty movies. You could remember the hunger you had felt when watching those types of videos, the curiosity so strong it felt like it could burn you. You looked at the textured skin as it got closer to your face. It was easier to not think about his shaft when you wondered what his balls would taste like.

You started with a kiss, feeling the heat on your lips at once. Then you applied another kiss and another, exploring across his scrotum slowly. More of his rich, primal scent filled your nostrils.

“Tell me, have you ever called someone Daddy before?” He asked as he put his hand to the top of your head.

You looked up at him, finding him watching you very carefully. “Only as a joke.”

His fingers were no longer just lying on your head, now they had found a hold. “That’s what you’re going to call me, but neither of us will be joking.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You replied, very eager to say it and find out how it felt. It was instantly kinky and you liked how it felt.

It seemed that he liked it too, showing you a smile that made your heart flutter. Then you felt him directing your head forward again, back into his crotch. You didn’t resist, a little less intimidated than before as you wondered if you could get more than a smile from him. The word daddy floated around in your mind and you hesitated less between kisses, your lips spending more time on his skin.

Then you started to open your mouth, pushing your tongue forward to drag along him. He gripped your head harder than before and you liked the pressure. He hummed happily and you shut your eyes, one lick promptly following another.

“Don’t be afraid to put them in your mouth.” He invited.

You pushed your face closer to his scrotum and changed how you were holding your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his sac, bringing it to rest on your tongue.

It didn’t take you long to adjust, so you soon started to move your tongue. You massaged it against what filled your mouth.

“Oh yeah, you like those balls in your mouth, don’t you dirty girl?” He said.

You didn’t want to take him out of your mouth to speak. So you tried to find a different way to agree with him. You drew your cheeks in, starting to suck. You kept working your tongue and you could feel yourself getting into a groove. You could handle this.

“Keep worshipping those fuckin’ balls.” He said.

You were starting to gain confidence - maybe you could be good at sex. The sense of accomplishment pushed you onwards and you kept rubbing your tongue on his skin, lapping keenly. He was shifting in his seat and every once in a while you felt him give his cock a single, lethargic stroke.

“I think I’m gonna make you into a great fuck doll.” He said.

Why was that your instant favourite compliment you had ever received? It made your heart do a little somersault and it prompted you to mentally notice how wet your pussy felt. It was the most erotic thing you had ever heard, affecting you so deeply.

“You’re making my balls feel so fuckin’ good. Do you feel how heavy they’re getting?” He paused to groan and your thighs tensed, your own anticipation growing. “That’s all my cum and you’re gonna get all of it. It’s gonna be a lot, you’re making my balls ache with need.”

You sucked your cheeks in a little harder and he jerked your head closer. Your nose was brought flush to his skin and he held you there, with less breathing room. You saw how easy it would be to lose yourself in his pleasure as all of your senses were dominated by him. But it was exciting as you waited for his next reaction, something you couldn’t predict.

“Okay, let’s see if you can treat the shaft just as well.” He said, pulling and moving your head away.

Your mouth was emptied and you started to open your eyes. At first your eyes went to his very close tip. Then you looked up at his face, your breath remaining short.

He curled up some strands of your hair in his fist and you didn’t dare to move. “Thank me, thank me for the privilege of getting to worship my balls, baby.”

“Thank you for the privilege of worshipping your balls, Ethan.” You said, getting all of the dirty words out and feeling like you meant them.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” He asked and you were quick to nod your head. “It’s fun making me feel good, hm? You’re gonna have fun sucking my cock too, I know it. You only think that you can’t do it. But you just have to start. So how about you start? Go ahead and give the tip a kiss, hm?”

You looked down at his cock, feeling how much you were shaking. You tried to hold onto your accomplishment of successfully playing with his scrotum - if you could do that, maybe you could do this?

He held it steady and you leaned in. The skin here already shone with a bit of moisture. You kept your lips together and your eyes open.

This skin was firmer and hotter. He gripped your hair and you cautiously gave it another kiss, then another. As your heart raced, you looked up at him and he was watching you with great interest. The rising and falling of his chest seemed to be coming in quicker.

“You look good like this.” He said and you started to linger longer between kisses, growing more familiar with how his tip felt. “And I get to see it before any man.” 

“That’s right, savour it just like you were savouring Daddy’s balls.” He said and the soothing tone in his voice helped you get comfortable. “Wrap your cute lips around the tip.”

You parted your lips, drawing the crown of his cock between them in slow and sensual kisses.

Then you contributed your tongue, sliding it in an upward motion. You saw the expression on his handsome face not change, he didn’t seem unhappy with what you were doing. And so you licked him more-and-more, the taste of his skin so intimate.

“Now suck it.” He said at the same time as he eased your head forward. “Suck it like it’s the sweetest lollipop in the world.”

About an inch of his erection moved into your mouth and you kept your mouth set around him. You relaxed your tongue beneath him and started to suck, as if you were using a girthy straw. His eyelids fluttered as he let out a shaky exhale and you felt more of that motivating pride.

“Mm-hmm, I told you you could do it.” He said and you felt him guiding your head forward again. “Don’t forget this, I am always right.”

You had started to squeeze your thighs together as you continuously got more invested in his passion.

He let you feel the firmness of his grip on your head. “Come on baby, you can take more. Your mouth isn’t a virgin anymore.”

You moved with him, completely willing to remain in his control, wanting to see what would happen next. Your curiosities and interests came before any of your current needs, they were easily overpowered.

He fit more of his shaft into your mouth, the tip pushing against the roof of your mouth. Until he readjusted so that it was pointing towards your throat’s opening. You braced yourself with your hands on his thighs as you felt your heart beating harder.

Even though your mouth was getting closer to being full, you still felt like you could manage it. You shut your eyes as you concentrated on sucking, attracting no corrections from him.

Before too long, he was jerking your head further forward again. You were surprised when your lips bumped into the hand that held his shaft steady at the base. You forgot about keeping your breathing regular momentarily.

He didn’t let you adjust to this depth. You worried that you had done something wrong as he dragged your head away. But he didn’t let his cock slide free, pulling you forward before your lips could reach his tip. He repeated this motion, guiding your mouth back-and-forth on his length.

“That’s how you make Daddy feel fuckin’ good.” He said.

Both of his hands went to the top of your head as he set into a tempo of how your lips should continue to work him up-and-down. You tried to settle into this motion, your tongue rubbing consistently on his underside.

You had never felt truly used like this before and you didn’t want to recoil from it in the slightest. Your cunt was reacting to the explicit noises that he was making. You enjoyed how straight-forward everything was and you were pleased that it seemed you were rising to meet the challenge.

“Honey, that mouth is really great. You’re off to a promising start, yes you are.” He said, different tones brought out in his voice.

The rushing adrenaline made your sense of accomplishment all the more significant and it was an addictive feeling. With no room in your head for other thoughts, there was nothing to slow down your enjoyment. You could feel moisture on your thighs as you kept them clenched together.

His fingers clenched, gathering up sections of your hair. “No more easing, you’re gonna make me come now.”

He started to direct your head faster and you felt a mild pulling on your scalp. This new tempo was relentless, there were no breaks to compose yourself and you could feel wetness spilling over your lower lip.

Even more spit spread down your chin when he struck his hips up, driving the tip into your throat. You were too surprised to keep yourself from sputtering.

Your breathing caught, and there was no gaining it back, not even when he eased off from your throat, the momentum taking him to a shallower point.

But just as quickly, he was bringing your mouth down again, filling it up without hesitation.

“You’re my dirty girl now. And that’s exactly how you’re gonna take this.” He said.

He was pulling on your hair, bringing a stinging sensation now. And it didn’t seem that he was on the verge of stopping.

It had become a legitimate effort to keep up with him now, and you weren’t sure that you were doing the best job of it. But at the very least you were keeping him in your mouth. As your lungs burnt, you understood that this was a skill, which you would need to develop.

Currently, his determination seemed to make up for your inexperience. It was all good enough to keep his dick stiff as his vigour continued.

He threw his head back for a loud moan the next time his tip pushed into your throat. “Fuck, yes. Oh fuck. I’m not going to come in your mouth. No, you’re going to wear the first load you’ve ever earned.” He stroked himself back before your head was brought down just as fast. “So when I pull out, keep your eyes shut.”

That didn’t happen straight away, instead he kept up the tempo. Your ears began to ring as his movements remained just as persistent.

Then suddenly he was dragged entirely out of your mouth, which stayed hanging open. Before you could fully register this change, you were feeling something wet hit your face. You flinched and squeezed your eyes shut even tighter. It was unlike anything you had felt before: the pronounced droplets and streaks were so hot.

He took his hands off of your head one at a time, panting out your name. You felt another rope of his cum shoot onto your left cheek, making the coverage more even.

“There you go.” He said. “You can open your eyes now.”

You did this slowly, gasping for air as reality crept back in. You settled your eyes on him as you felt some of the thick liquid give in to gravity, sliding down your skin.

He looked pleased, there weren’t any lines on his face to indicate annoyance. Maybe he was on the verge of smiling as he relaxed back on your sofa. His cock was noticeably softening, no longer demanding your attention.

He put his fingers under your chin, guiding your head back. “You’re going to thank me again, thank me for this unparalleled privilege. But you’re going to thank my cock.”

You licked your lips, tasting him even more strongly. You lowered your eyes to his shaft as you remained short on breath. “Thank you, thank you for the absolute privilege of getting covered in your cum.”

“Mm, you’re welcome, darling. I knew you had great potential.” He said. “I’m glad you like giving me pleasure, it’s so very obvious that you’re enjoying this. That’s good, that’s sexy. But just like I can tell that, I can also tell that you aren’t totally in this yet. You can call it fear or insecurities, whatever it is, something in here is holding you back…”

He tapped his finger on the centre of your forehead and you furrowed your brow. But he was speaking again before you had the chance to disagree.

“I can’t fuck you until I’ve broken you out of your mind further.” He said.

Now you didn’t know how to disagree with him because you weren’t sure what he meant. You silently watched him sit back, anxiety trickling in.

His attention left you, going to where he had laid his leather jacket out. He started to look through the pockets and you remained at his feet, unwilling to get up without instruction.

He produced one bundle of red rope, then a second. This got your interest and curiosity.

But you started to question everything you were seeing as he pulled out a long, metal rod. It was taller than him, there was no way it could have been hidden until now. It had a small, grippy-style foot at one end and he put this on the floor, resting the pole against the couch. Once he was content that it wasn’t going to fall, he went back to the jacket and soon another rod was appearing.

“Wait, wait, how are you doing that?” You asked.

This new pole looked like it was the same length as the first as he pulled it free. He glanced at you then back at the object. “Oh, right. My jacket is what you might call magic, in that I can pull almost anything out of the pockets.

“Almost anything.” He said as he rested the pole with its twin. Then he picked up the jacket and brought it even closer for you to see. But you were just as confused because it appeared to be nothing but limp leather. “I can’t get something living from it, so don’t think about asking for a bunny. I also can’t use it to produce something as big as a house or a car.

“But within those limitations, there’s a lot I can do.” He said, his hand going into the average-sized pocket and you saw the top of another rod. “It’s a little incubus trick that always keeps things easy for me.”

You watched as he pulled out more-and-more, still not fully believing your eyes. “Could I get anything from it?”

“Nope, they would work as regular pockets for you, my pretty little thing. It only works for demons, so it would do you no good to steal it for yourself.” He said in a casual tone as he got the end of this third rod free.

“I wasn’t even thinking of… what are those?” You asked.

“I’m gonna make a temporary frame.” He said as he stood up. His first action was to take down his pants and briefs, freeing his legs entirely. Then he stepped out of your personal space and started to gather up these rods. “You’re gonna learn a little something about shibari, specifically suspension shibari.”

Images you had seen online were brought to the forefront of your mind as you heard the pronunciation of this word for the first time.

You watched as he started the assembly. Towards the top of each rod was a small divot, a spot for one to securely attach to another. They fitted together with some clicks, forming the top of a triangle.

He got the apparatus standing upright, it was tall enough for him to stand under. He made adjustments to how the rubber-padded ends rested on the ground, they looked like they were evenly spaced out.

The tripod didn’t waver or wobble. You accepted what was seemingly your only option and gave him more of your trust that you weren’t about to be injured.

He collected up the rope and got to work with that. It would have been easy for you to get distracted by his nudity, your eyes moving away from the rope every so often. You tried to only look at his cock when he seemed distracted enough to not notice and your thoughts rushed with every glance.

He secured the rope around the tops of the rods with some knots, the tail of this rope freely hanging down. It remained unattached to anything because when he picked up the second bundle of rope, his attention went to you.

He beckoned for you to stand up and you hurried to do so, facing him. There was something about having your exposed body this close to him that kept you from fully catching your breath.

The rope wasn’t rough against your bare skin as he started to wind it around you, just beneath your bust. He created a band by wrapping it around you four times, tight without letting it dig into you.

This was affixed with a knot behind your back. Then he progressed to making a second band, this one going over your navel. He stood behind you as he tied more knots into the rope.

There was some length left over, which he allowed to dangle, brushing against the backs of your thighs.

He returned to the enchanted leather jacket and you saw more rope come from the pocket. He unwound this bundle as he looked you up-and-down - planning rather than judging.

“Kneel.” He said and you quickly lowered yourself down, returning your unprotected knees to the cold tiles. Even though his cock was now directly in front of your face, you endeavoured to not get caught up in just staring at it. You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze.

“Raise your arms above your head, yep.” He said, stepping to place himself behind you. “Now reach down like you’re trying to grab the back of your neck, but on opposite sides.”

You bent your elbows and crossed one wrist over the other at the back of your head. He was completely out of your sight as he started to tie your wrists together.

To keep you from changing the position of your arms, he created a new bind. He looped the rope from your wrist to your bicep, then copied it on the other arm. He ensured its preservation by tying more firm knots. The restriction made you feel vulnerable, but that wasn’t a negative experience.

Once this was complete, he walked around to stand in front of you again. He studied you, a serious look on his face. “Any pain, pretty little thing?”

“No, it’s fine.” You said.

“Great, then I’ll keep going.” He said before lowering himself down to sit on the ground in front of you. He tapped your right leg. “Extend this leg out.”

Your centre of gravity felt off, but you managed to make this shift without falling. Then he was on you with a new length of rope, wrapping it around your thigh this time.

He created a couple of bands, then extended the end of the rope back and behind you. He moved, leaving your sight as he kneeled behind you. You tried to picture what he was doing as there was a slight tug on the rope that wrapped around your thigh. The length remained tense and soon he was attaching it to the main knot resting on your back.

“Very nice.” He said, his voice just as smooth, but less warm than before. “Stand for me.”

“Um…” 

As you placed your right foot firmly on the ground, you were already imagining yourself falling over. You pictured dark red droplets on the tiles after your nose smacked into it.

You lifted your ass and leaned your body weight forward, allowing you to move your left leg now. You got this foot set on the ground too and started to push yourself up. Cautiously, you kept your knees bent.

He watched instead of offering his assistance and you feared that you were about to be chided for taking too long. As you straightened your back, you found the rope on your thigh pulling. You brought some give to the rope by lifting your right foot from the ground, letting it hover as you found this less uncomfortable.

“How is that? Are you feeling like a helpless little bug stuck in a spiders’ web yet?” He asked.

“That’s a very appropriate way to put it, yes.” You said.

He came closer, smirking as he stood in front of you. “But that isn’t a bad thing, is it? I actually think that you don’t mind it at all.”

You tried your best to maintain steady eye contact, even as you couldn’t help swaying a little. “You’re right.”

He placed his fingers under your chin as he got closer again, his eyes briefly going down to your mouth. “Because you want to surrender to me, don’t you, dirty girl?”

Your breath was coming in much faster and you were practically counting down the seconds until he next kissed you. “Yes, I do.”

Your eyes fluttered shut and the powerful anticipation prompted you to part your lips. You were able to stop thinking about the strain in your limbs. Even when he took his hand away from you, you remained locked in your hopes.

“Over here now.”

When you opened your eyes, it was to find him standing next to the super-sized tripod. You had to twist and change your posture to walk over to him. And even then, it was more of a strange shamble across the floor.

“Stand in the centre.” He instructed.

You made more of your awkward shuffles until you were standing under the apparatus. He joined you, placing himself behind you. He was doing something to the rope harness around your chest, making adjustments that shifted it about, without compromising any of its security. He was silent as he completed his task.

Without any warning, you felt the binds tense and pull upwards. Your feet left the ground, getting higher-and-higher to the sounds of his little grunts of effort. Your stomach twisted as another aspect of bodily control was taken from you. It was thrilling (and intimidating) to see your feet dangling a few inches above the floor, all the while knowing you could do nothing to get down.

Then your right leg was yanked even higher as he pulled at the rope attached to your thigh again. Your thigh was pulled away from the other and kept like this as he kept the rope taut. He tied it to something new, the line that hung directly from the apparatus. You bent your knee, trying to settle into this unusual position. He got it all secured and then he took a few steps back, surveying his handiwork.

“Sweet girl…” He said, wandering back into your field of vision. “This suits you so much better than the whole studious virgin thing you had going on.”

Some strands of his dark hair had come loose from the bun, now framing his face. His eyes moved so thoroughly over your body as a small smile pulled at his cheek.

He nodded to himself and stepped away, going back to the couch. You watched as he picked his jacket up again, going for the magical pocket.

You were rushing with adrenaline and partially you started to think of all of the things that could go wrong - the amount of ways you could be injured wasn't getting any smaller.

When he turned around again, you saw that he held a leather paddle in his hand. “Are you ready for Daddy to break you out of your mind?”

You gulped audibly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

He walked over, letting you feel the paddle by rubbing it against your raised thigh. There was no sharpness at first. You stared back as he fixed his eyes on yours. Again, you wondered about mind control.

You lost the competition, your eyes snapping shut when he slapped the paddle onto your pubic mound. It was like a little explosion of heat - the kind of heat that felt alive because of the tingles it brought with it. As your breath caught, you tried to determine if you had enjoyed the sensation.

“Ooh, is that so sensitive? Is that just so needy, swelling with blood and getting so wet?” He asked, holding the firm toy against your pussy. “Hm, is it, honey?”

You forced your eyes open as he tapped it on your labia. “Yea- yes, I don’t think I’ve ever been this needy before in my life.”

He slapped the toy against your thigh, making you wince. “And yet, I’m going to make you even needier.”

“Thank you.”

He gave your other thigh a hit before walking around, going beyond your view again. “Now, when I first showed this to you, you probably assumed I would use it to spank your ass, hm?” You jerkily nodded your head and your answer was met with him striking your ass. “That’s what most people would do if given this…”

A series of spanks was inflicted upon each cheek, bringing a glow to your ass. It hurt more every time, keeping you paying attention to only this.

“But I’m not most people.” He said, stepping in front of you. “And I know that the fun of spanking doesn’t have to be limited to ass.”

Your eyes grew wide as he flicked the paddle up. Your body shook and your thoughts were fragmented as you tried to guess where he would hit you next.

When he whacked it against your breast, the sensation ripped right through you. Your stiff nipple hurt the most, the pain much sharper here. But it stung everywhere that the toy had hit.

This skin was still prickling when he took the paddle away, swatting your other tit. You gasped, keenly aware of the feeling of your nerves fraying.

Each of your nipples throbbed as he kept spanking, alternating from one breast to the other. There was a fire in his eyes and he didn’t appear to tire - just as impassioned each time.

Before you could reach that point where it was too much, he stopped. You were left reeling, your mind blank.

“Do you like that?” He asked.

You were gasping for air, it couldn’t be denied that you were feeling invigorated. There was a lot to enjoy about the adrenaline dominating your system. “Yes, Daddy.”

“I don’t know why I asked. I can see by this ridiculously wet pussy that you’re liking it.” He said.

You squirmed but there wasn’t any way to cover yourself. You simply had to remain exposed to him.

“I didn’t forget about it and how needy it is.” He said, putting a hand to your pussy. You wordlessly whined when you felt him push your folds back. “I’ll give it all of the attention it needs…” He slowly laid the toy against your skin. “And then some more after that.”

He struck you, the paddle hitting directly on your exposed clitoris. It was a complete shock and your heart did a somersault, then launched into your throat. You were reminded of the intensity of orgasms in that split second.

You flinched, little squeaks falling from your mouth when he repeatedly tapped it against this spot. The pleasure was fast, you knew if it were more sustained it would entirely blow your mind.

He switched back to using the toy to spank you, using a decent amount of strength each time. There wasn’t enough time between strikes for you to recover, so you remained trapped in this state of hyper-awareness and hyper-sensitivity. You weren’t forming any complete thoughts, your mind preoccupied by these grand, continuous reactions.

“Fuck.” You burst out, feeling like you could feel your heartbeat in your clitoral hood after the most recent slap.

And it wasn’t the last. You were getting intoxicated on this combination of pleasure and pain. One accelerated the other, their power never failing.

When he eased the paddle away, you continued to feel its effects. A strong heat radiating out from your cunt. It twitched and throbbed through what felt like aftershocks.

“That’s better than me just tapping this thing on your ass, hm?” He asked.

“Fuck yes, it is.” You said.

He snapped his fingers and you lifted your head a little. “Look at me now, baby.”

Amongst all of the rushing sensations, you tried to give your concentration to him. “Yes, Ethan.”

He gave you a long look. “It’s starting to look pretty empty behind those eyes.”

“Yes, Ethan.” You replied.

He continued to study your eyes, confirming something to himself. “No thoughts, no fears, no questions, no worries, no insecurities, just pleasure.”

“Am I broken out of my mind yet?” You asked.

“You tell me.”

“I…” You felt the lack of inhibitions, the lack of shame and you started nodding. “Yes Ethan, I think I am.”

“I think I agree. But there's one way to get to the truth, a taste test.” He said and your throat tightened.

He began to get lower, lining himself up with your pussy. You were holding your breath as you watched him, preemptively feeling the pleasure of what was to come next.

He maintained that intense eye contact with you as he opened his mouth. He moved closer and you felt his warm breath on this already scorching hot area. Then there was his tongue, wet and firm as it dragged along your slit.

It felt like all of the pleasure in your body finally had a place to land and it was the start of an exciting relief. He slowly dragged his tongue back-and-forth, seemingly seeing no reason to rush.

With your chest heaving, you were poised to feel him move inside. And you knew that would be the point when the pleasure exploded inside of you.

But he took his mouth off of you instead of going deeper. You froze, confused on such a deep level.

“Yeah, I think you’ve successfully been broken out of that chaotic little prison of your mind.” He said, resting his hands on your thighs as he looked up at you. “Now, do you know how to control your orgasm? If I say you aren’t allowed to come until I’m done counting down: can you do that?”

“Um, I think so.” You said.

“Only one way to find out. I’m going to count from five to zero, and when I say zero that’s the moment that you come. But not before that.” He explained.

Words failed you so you just nodded. Internally, you panicked because controlling your orgasm while you had absolutely no control over your body seemed like an impossible feat. But you had to try for him.

He lined himself up with your pussy again, half of his face disappearing from your sight. Before saying any numbers, he extended his tongue to your entrance.

It felt like a long time before he started to count. You heard five and you curled your hands into fists as you tried to steady yourself.

But the sensations kept getting more intense, thanks to his tongue quickly swirling around your entrance. He said four, then you felt his tongue move inside a little. He kept swirling at this shallow point and your tummy clenched. You heard him say three and you started to get excited for your release.

The anticipation was crushing on your chest. But when he said two, you thought you would be able to make it.

“One.” He said after slurping noisily.

You were holding your breath as he plunged his tongue inside, to thoroughly rub it against the walls of your pussy. You felt like you were ready to float away with the pleasure.

But zero didn’t come. Instead he retracted his tongue, your pussy uselessly clenching as he repositioned.

His hands went to your butt, holding each cheek as he eased them apart. You drew in a series of shaky breaths, you were so confused and unsettled.

You felt the smooth wetness of his tongue glide across your hole. This unique experience was like a jolt through your system, surprising you enough that you didn’t know how to react.

He stroked his tongue back the other way and moaned. “Mm, virgin asshole, what a rare delicacy.”

He repeatedly licked at this secret spot. When he began to ease his tongue inside, your eyes fluttered shut. It wasn’t like anything you had felt before. The pleasure was deep, but less intense - it would need to be built upon. And it seemed that was what he intended to do, finding a new way to make you float.

The paddle was brought back to your attention when he slapped it against your pussy. He spanked it onto you repeatedly, too fast for you to recover between strikes. You were rapidly climbing up to that edge again.

It was a wonderful combination. His tongue firmly in your hole felt like it could lead to an orgasm, you were floating. But the paddle hitting you made you want to explode into your orgasm. The sharp and the sensual danced together, bringing out more need.

You were given a break from the flogging. He dragged his tongue from your asshole to your pussy. Your entire body was responding as he repeated this motion, getting into a lovely rhythm. You began to think your release was possible as this consistent pleasure took you away from feeling like a person - you were becoming nothing more than a throbbing need.

“Ethan?” You feebly began. “Aren’t you gonna finish counting?”

“Hm?” He hummed as he took his mouth off of you. “I guess I hadn’t considered it.” You bit into your lower lip, hard. “Are you saying that you could come from this?”

“Ye- ah.” You were entirely shocked when he swiftly plunged his tongue into your ass again. As your whole body clenched, he resumed his licking from one hole to the other. “Yes, please. Please Daddy, please.”

He briefly interrupted his flow to speak. “You could come like this?”

“Yes, yes. Please, yes.” You whined.

He stopped licking, now repositioning so that he could stand in front of you. You stared back at him, lost of how to react, only knowing that patience was currently beyond your limited capabilities.

“No, no, not like that. I need to see your face as you’re coming. That’s the kind of stuff Daddy likes.” He said.

Even more of his hair had come free from the tie, giving you a physical representation of how all of this effort was affecting him.

“So you’re getting very close, hm?” He asked.

You nodded as you panted heavily. You were so primed that orgasming was literally all you could think about.

“You were telling me I had the wrong house. But now look at the desperate mess you’ve become.” He said, standing close enough that you could feel his body heat. “All because of me. What a spectacular transformation.”

Your wait was concluded by him spanking your pussy with the toy. Then he turned it around, freeing the handle and holding it by the paddle.

You didn’t know what he was doing, until the handle’s rounded end was applied to your cunt. He pushed it firmly against you then manoeuvred it down, touching it to your clit.

Your throat clenched as he kept it there. Maintaining the pressure, he moved it up-and-down on the hood. You were immediately moaning, dazzled by the sensations this brought.

“Where was I up to?” He wondered aloud. Then he spoke before you could answer. “Hm, I totally forgot. I guess I’ll start over- five.”

He worked the handle consistently against your clit, making you violently tremor all over. As he slowly counted, he grabbed you by your chin. In the brief seconds when you managed to open your eyes, you saw the intense way he was watching you, not missing a single reaction.

“Two.” He reached and you began to get yourself ready to let it all go.

Trying to keep the climax back felt like you were attempting to hold fire in your hands, as a safety precaution. The energy wouldn’t stay contained for long, it was too volatile for that. And as you held it, you were still getting a little burnt.

“One.” He calmly said.

“Please Ethan, please, please…” It was an effort to get these words out due to how tight your throat was clenching. But you persisted, because you needed his mercy. “Please, please, Ethan please, please.”

He didn’t say a word as he took the toy’s handle away from you. The next sound came from you - you wailed when he spanked your clit.

You thought that if he said zero in that moment, you would have been able to come as the sensations of that hit reverberated through your system. They were powerful enough to take you down.

But the number didn’t come. When you opened your eyes, you realised that you hadn’t missed him saying it. He had simply left the room without saying it.

You didn’t know where he had gone. As your thoughts raced, your breath continued to come in faster than usual.

You checked around as much as you could manage, but you could only see his belongings. Not being touched felt so much worse than any of the pain from the paddle. The absence was crueller than his excessive teasing.

You were still short on breath when he re-entered the room, with a full glass of water in hand. Even out of his presence you hadn’t been able to relax, you had found no reason to do so.

He hadn’t fixed his hair yet. He approached you, brow furrowing. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you panting like a dog?”

“I dunno, I’m not doing it on purpose. I guess I’m just too worked up to catch my breath.” You said, feeling the labour in your lungs.

“Well I don’t need you hyperventilating and passing out.” He said. “Hanging like that isn’t going to impede you from doing breathing exercises with me, is it?”

“I don’t think so.” You said.

He had a drink. “Okay, let’s slow it down. You’re going to watch me take a deep breath and you’re going to do the same. Okay, inhale…”

“But, Ethan…” You said and he frowned. “I need to come.”

“No. What you need to do is calm down and take some deep breaths.” He said.

“But I can’t calm down right now.” You said. “You don’t understand-...”

He grabbed your chin, staring you down in a serious fashion. “You can and you will. And you’ll feel better for it. Okay, inhale through your nose…”

You copied him but your inhale was shakier than his. You held your breath when he did, but you exhaled much quicker.

He started to caress his hand along the side of your face and you let yourself be comforted by this. “Stop freaking out.” He spoke slowly to keep up this tempo of breathing. “Come back to yourself, baby. And when you do, you’ll find it makes everything feel better.”

The feeling of frenzy died off from inside of you as you improved at matching his breaths. Less of your body was stinging. Overall, you felt more sane as you watched his chest expand around another deep breath.

“See? You don’t have to tell me that I was right, because I already know that.” He said. “Water?”

“Yes, please.”

He raised the glass to your lips and carefully tipped it. The water was so smooth on your scratchy throat. Added to everything else, you were properly refreshed.

He stroked your cheek. “Do you want Daddy to let you down?”

“No, thank you.”

He helped you to have another sip before he moved to place the glass down.

When he came back, he ran his hands up-and-down your sides as he stared deeply in your eyes. “Now, let’s get to that other pressing priority of yours: you need to come.”

You didn’t care that he was mocking you. You nodded.

One of his hands went to your cheek and he drew in for a kiss. There was less to distract you, allowing you to enjoy these kisses more.

“Poor little tied up thing, you are about to get so used.” He said, and this comment registered clearly in your pussy, making it flutter.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed himself to your chest as he resumed kissing you. You were looking forward again. The new taste on his lips hinted at what was ahead of you.

You interrupted before he could guide his tongue between your lips. “Ethan, I’m not gonna get pregnant, am I?”

“No, I don’t make sperm. That’s a human thing, it would be totally pointless for me.” He said.

“Oh, okay.” You said.

“Don’t worry about anything.” He said, trailing his fingertips along your spine. “Just concentrate on feeling good, darling.”

He kissed you and as you kept in rhythm with him, you felt into his body more. Now that you were calmer, you could properly feel the silent communication between your bodies.

You wrapped your free leg around his waist when he began to grind against you. All of those excited tingles came rushing back in. The intimacy allowed you to return to that state of receptiveness, making the connection of your bodies feel so significant.

“Don’t be an idiot and hold your breath.” He ordered as he rubbed his dick on your slit. “Keep taking those deep breaths, as much as you can.”

You were staring at his lips as you nodded. “Okay.”

He moved his hand to your ass, gripping you here as he applied himself to you with more pressure. This firm tempo was bringing the throbbing of your pussy back at full force. Wet sounds were accompanying his movements.

“Tell me, what’s Daddy about to do?” He asked.

Your cunt was already eagerly clenching. “Take my virginity.”

“Uh-huh, and…?” He prompted.

“Give me my wish.” You said.

“That’s right. Now be a good girl and let Daddy in.”

Your attention immediately wanted to relocate from your breathing rate when you felt the head of his dick working you open. He eased the length in, making you feel a stretch different to anything experienced before. Your heart moved up into your throat again, your excitement so ready to overflow.

He moved slowly at filling you up. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a quick exhale. Lines formed on his face, showing you his determination.

“Fuck, that is really tight.” He said, puffing out another sharp breath.

You were feeling a little amazed that it was fitting inside. The pressure brought more blood pumping into this area, making you feel even more tender. As his hips gradually came closer to yours, your pussy kept adjusting to accommodate him.

He stopped before getting the entire shaft inside of you. “Cazzo, that is next-level tight and it’s so, so good. I’m definitely gonna have to come in this pussy.”

You were getting used to this feeling of fullness when he started to thrust. Between your walls, he smoothly moved himself back-and-forth. His tip massaged against you in the most intimate fashion. This brought new sensitivities to the forefront of your mind, dazzling you as they promised to take you to climax.

It didn’t take him long to establish a tempo, one plunge confidently following the next. It felt better than the teasing, now all of your tingles were lingering and reaching deeper. At the core of your being, you were getting ready to fall apart for him.

“Sweet girl, please tell me that you haven’t changed your mind, and now you want a gentle fuck.” He said.

“No.”

“That’s very good. Because it would be literally impossible for me to hold back when you feel this amazing around me.” He explained.

As he picked up the pace, you couldn’t help feeling so flattered. It was incredible (you probably wouldn’t have believed it at the start) that you could bring him to the point of losing control too. You felt even more connected to this stranger, feeling like the passion was so mutual. 

“Ethan, are you gonna do another countdown?” You asked.

“No, no more of that. I’m just gonna tell you when I want you to come. And when I say it, you better do it.” He said.

“Okay.” You said, nodding through all of the surging sensations.

You were filled with the most luxurious warmth. The tingles had been replaced by jolts - unpredictable and exciting, they accompanied you on this climb to the peak.

Eventually he could work all of his generous shaft into you, plunging straight for your sweet spot. Your tummy clenched and you were in disbelief over how marvellous it felt. It was what everything had been building towards, and it was better than anything that had come before.

It felt like your nerves were on fire, even when he was rocking his body weight back. Your efforts to keep your breath were now being painted with whines - the desperation you felt was impossible to hide.

The excitement only made the clenching of your inner-walls more powerful, an involuntary clamping around his length. This squeezing didn’t impede his momentum. Instead it added to the intensity, inspiring him to go even faster.

“Fuck, you’re getting me there, sweet girl.” He said as you twitched and kept losing more of yourself. “Are you close?”

Your body was full of earthquakes, the strongest one yet made you cry out before you could answer him. “Yes, so fucking close. Oh, ah…”

“Let it happen. Surrender it to me…” He ordered and you found the feeling of him driving into you slightly changed. There was an extra heat, something that felt like splashing. “Surrend-uh, um, oh fuck.”

This new sensation continued, allowing you to identify it as his cock unloading into you. You savoured the feeling of him marking you so deep.

He drove himself the whole way forward one last time, delivering him to your sweet spot. And he stayed there, grinding on you as you clenched up, every muscle tensing.

Then you started to rupture. On every possible level, you were overwhelmed by the pleasure.

Soon the satisfaction took you away and you transcended absolutely everything. You didn’t feel the ropes restricting you, you didn’t feel him. You could feel only bliss, like a white light guiding you.

You accepted the tiredness as it seeped in, exacerbating how weak you were. You kept your eyes shut, even as you felt your body gently being jostled around.

Before you had the chance to notice the change, you felt yourself being laid on something soft. You opened your eyes to discover that you were back in your bedroom. You could freely move your limbs about again. You were still naked, and so was the man in the room with you.

Ethan didn’t join you on the bed and you got the impression that now was the time to take your last looks at him. You curled onto your side, moving back to almost the same position you had been in when he had awoken you by knocking on the door.

“If I go into your bathroom, will I find some kind of washcloth, to get that load off of your face?” He asked, speaking with no edge to his tone.

“Yeah, it’s the last-”

He cut off your instructions before you could properly get started. “I know where it is.”

Once he was gone, you redirected your gaze to where you kept a bottle of water on the nightstand. With a tender arm, you reached out and collected it.

You got distracted before you could have a sip, your eyes going to the alarm clock’s glowing numbers. 3.33.

Assuming it was broken, you sought the second opinion of the clock on your phone. You picked up the device and activated the screen, just for it to report the exact same time. This was confusing, but you weren’t alert enough to try to figure out the how or why.

Ethan returned, a damp cloth in hand. He crouched down beside your bed and began to gently wipe at your face.

“How do you feel, honey?” He asked. His gaze was just as intense as before.

And you were blushing. “Distinctly un-virginal.”

“You just stay where you are. I don’t need you to show me to the door, or anything.” He said, working the cloth over your entire face.

“So that’s it, then?” You asked.

“Yep. I will get my shit together and just disappear into the night.” He said. “Wham, bam, you can thank me, ma’am.”

“How do I know the deal is officially done?” You asked.

“For fuck’s sake, can’t you just take my word for it? I don’t have a receipt you can keep.” He said.

“Okay.”

“We didn’t sign a contract on paper. We signed it with our bodies.” He said.

“Right, and that’s a very new concept for me. But I’ll try to remember that.” You said.

He was smirking as he finished cleaning the dried cum off of your face. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble remembering every part of this night.” He got to his feet. “Now, rest.”

You watched as he began to leave the room. Even though you knew that you had to let him go, you worried that all of the good you were feeling would go with him. “Goodbye, Ethan.”

He turned off the light on his way out and you kept watching, until he was entirely gone from your sight. You drank some water, listening to the noises of him preparing to depart. It was ending, the only way for your mood to go was down.

You heard the front door close behind him. Now the green numbers on the clock read 3.34.

»»————-　♡　————-««  

🍑taglist: @bethanysnow - @gr8rainbowpunk - @idyllicbutterfly - @maneskindiva - @maneslut - @saschenkaaa - @slavicgoddess13 - @elvirabelle - @maneskintifoso - @thegeminisgirl - @ha-la-ansia - @butkutee - @ursulalurks - @itsmaneskinbitch - @icarodamiano  - @crwnnjules - @paralianeyes - @fand0mskullfa1ry - @chocolatepizzatyrant - @lizzylynch1 - @kammerstx - @myleftsock - @tellmesomething01 - @adoredamianos - @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic - @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis - @shinshans - @lonnybunnys - @lyricalliz - @chemical-killjoy [join here!]

»»————-　♡　————-««  

reflections from you? ---- does the suspension frame fit back into his jacket? (or does he leave it at her house?) - will she tell her friends? - did she make the right wish? - favourite nickname he called her? - will she try to summon him a second time?

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER EIGHT: First-Date Jitters

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: It's time for your date with the beautiful stranger from the hospital, and you are beyond nervous. Still, you're already in too deep to pull out now, so, you jump into the cold water and learn how to swim.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst, comfort, some first-date cliché behavior, mentions of domestic violence (in thought), foreshadowing (?), flirting, physical contact, suggestive language (slightly), Matt's charisma uniqueness nerve and talent

Word Count: 5.3k

A/n: This flirty little shit won't leave my mind. Anyway, my plan was for this chapter to be one continuous chapter, but it got so long that I had to cut it into 2 parts (or this beast would have been 10k words). That’s why you’re getting a double update today. I tried not to put too much angst into this. It's still angsty, but there is a lot of comfort for the angst and the hurt to compensate for it, and I think that's beautiful. I don’t know about the writing though.

Read Chapter 8: First Date Jitters here on AO3

Many questions naturally come to mind when one is preparing for a date. How will you get there? Who will pay? What could you possibly talk about that has a high chance of boring neither of you? The question you find yourself grappling with the most though is, what the fuck are you supposed to wear?

After spending years trapped in a cage, your self-confidence took quite a hit. You used to feel somewhat satisfied with the way you looked, but John always had something to criticize. Your weight, your hair, your facial features—nothing was ever good enough for him. After breaking down your walls and making you believe that you were the best thing that ever happened to him, he knew how to manipulate you best. At least he looked at you. You were grasping at straws, holding onto the vision of a man who was never real, and you forgot your worth along the way. 

“Wear that dress you borrowed from me and never gave back,” Claire says on the other end of the line. 

You sigh. You have been staring at your closet for an hour now, and you haven’t come further than picking out what underwear to wear. With shaky fingers, you reach for the dress. You know exactly which one she meant. 

“Are you sure I should wear a dress?” you ask. “I mean, it’s kinda cold outside.”

“That’s why they invented tights and over-knee socks. Oh, and maybe wear those heart-shaped earrings I got you for your birthday. They look good on you.”

You scan the dress with careful eyes. You’ve barely slept after getting home, and now your head is pounding. Earlier, you sent Matt a text, confirming the time and place for the umpteenth time, but as half-past two is inching closer on the clock, the unease is starting to creep deeper into your bones. 

You promised Claire not to cancel, but that doesn’t take away the fear and the sheer agony you feel inside when you think about all the things that could go wrong. Alone the thought of facing Matt’s gorgeous smile in a different setting than the hospital sends a shiver down your spine, and it’s not fully pleasant. 

But no. You swore you wouldn’t give John what he wants, and he surely would be punching the air if he knew that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He would celebrate if he knew that you just can’t seem to get over what he did to you. Then again, if he knew where you are now, the only thing getting punched would be you. He might even kill you. God knows he’s capable of unspeakable things.

His name is too prominent in your mind: his face, his voice, his scent. You need to drown him out. You need to stop making everything about him. It isn’t healthy. And Claire was right when she told you that it’s a good thing another man—a good man, at that—is making you feel things you long couldn’t because you were too scared to allow yourself to feel even the slightest hint of affection. 

You have to honor your promise to yourself and see where this date might take you. Matt is gentle. He won’t mind if you’re a little nervous. Hell, he won’t even mind if you wear a pair of sweatpants instead of this stupid dress, but you can’t deny that you still want to put yourself together and appear in something other than a pair of medical scrubs.

The dress you borrowed from Claire is a good fit for your skin tone and body type, you can’t deny that. It has turned heads before. You wore it to one of the fundraising campaigns Metro General sometimes hosts—it was summer then, a lot warmer than it is now, and you were toying around with the kids that came with their parents in Central Park. You were in charge of the games that day. One of the firefighters complimented you, but he was respectful about it, and his partner even asked you for a drink, but you declined both of them. They weren’t your type, although they were nice. It’s a fond memory that momentarily eases your anxiety. 

Matt is nice, and he’s your type. You know he’s your type even after years of unlearning what your type even used to be. It’s not a coincidence that the two of you got along so well when you first met, and that he cared so much the other day when you got hurt. 

Fuck. You realize you’re going to need to cover your nose with concealer. Not because Matt would care—he surely wouldn’t—but you don’t want to be looked at weirdly by the barista of your favorite coffee shop. That would be embarrassing.

“Liv?” Claire’s voice breaks through your downward spiral. 

You snap out of it, throwing the dress on the bed. “Yeah, I’m here,” you mumble, working at your pajamas that you still haven’t changed out of. “I’m wearing the dress.” There is a certainty in your voice that surprises you. 

You want to wear this dress. You want to go out with Matt. And you want to turn his head, even if you can’t do it with your looks. Looks are hardly all that matters, anyway. You have to remind yourself that he sees your mind, hears your voice, and has a different view of your soul than others. That’s what matters. That is all that should matter. You just have to make sure that you smell good or he will probably be appalled, considering blindness comes with heightened senses. If only you knew how heightened they truly are. 

Your friend lets out a happy little, “HA!”

You shake your head, putting her on speaker, and changing out of your pajamas into the dress. You only have a handful of tights in your closet, and not a single pair of over-knee socks, but a pair of tights and your favorite boots should do the trick. 

“Trust me,” Claire says, “one look at you in that dress, you’re gonna turn that guy’s head.” She sniffles, and you wonder how much longer she is going to torture herself with that cat. 

“I’m not so sure my looks are going to matter much,” you say. 

“Most people say looks don’t matter to them, but unless you solely fall in love with another person’s mind, looks will always play a part in how we perceive someone.”

“No, I meant that quite literally.” You pull the dress over your head. “I’m only dressing up to feel good about myself ‘cause looks definitely don’t matter to him.”

“How can you be sure?” she retorts. 

You slip into a fresh pair of tights, some socks, and a pair of biking shorts underneath. “Did I not mention Matt’s blind?”

Silence follows your sentence. A pregnant pause. You said it so nonchalantly, you didn’t think anything of it. And why would you? It’s a part of him. It’s not unimportant—definitely not, considering that life works differently for him than it does for you—but it’s also not the only thing about him. 

“Blind?” Claire’s voice is slightly shaky when she asks.

You frown at your phone screen while slipping into your favorite boots. “Yes, blind,” you say. “Although we didn’t get around to discussing his condition. I mean, medically, there is probably nothing I haven’t seen or heard before. I just didn’t think of asking him, “Hey, how’d it happen? Is it complete blindness? Amaurosis? Congenital?” Even I know that it’s not appropriate to ask someone you just met about their medical history. It’s something he has to want to talk about, not the other way around. I don’t expect full disclosure from a stranger like I do from my patients. And we both know dating a patient would be highly unethical.”

“I—” she cuts herself off. 

One look at the time tells you that you’re already running late. If you want to catch your bus, you have to leave in the next five minutes. You slide the last of your heart-shaped earrings into your earlobe.

“Listen, Claire, if that’s all you have to say, I should go. I can’t miss my bus,” you say. 

Her behavior may strike you as odd, but your mind is currently preoccupied with other things. You can’t pay much mind to the tone of her voice or the pronunciation of her words, or there is a chance you might not make it to your coffee date after all because you will be stuck in another downward spiral of overthinking. 

She exhales. “I—okay, yeah. I’m sorry. It’s probably nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Go. Have fun. Just… be careful.”

The way she says it makes the hairs on your arms stand up. “I will.” Your eyebrows still furrowed in a frown. “I’ll call you later.”

The line clicks when you hang up, trying not to let the absurdity of the situation get to you. You have plans, and you have to stick to them. 

With a swift shake of your head, you touch up your hair and makeup, assuring that the discoloration of your bruised nose looks less severe than it is before you grab your coat, your bag, and your phone, and you make your way out. 

You’re not overdressed, but you still feel like you’re standing out of the crowd when you get on the bus. The bus driver pays no attention to you, and neither do the other passengers, but somehow all eyes are still on you. Maybe you should have gone for a pair of jeans instead? A longer dress? A shorter dress? Less cleavage? Maybe something a little less tight? A sweater would have worked nicely too, you’re sure. What if you get off at the next stop, hurry back to change, and arrive a little later than planned? 

Matt probably won’t be on time either. He wanted to meet up half an hour later. That sounds like the kind of guy who needs a little more time, someone who struggles to be on time. Or maybe he’s the complete opposite of the picture you painted of him in your mind, and Claire’s reaction has something to do with it. It makes no sense—it absolutely makes no fucking sense, and you should stop worrying about things that don’t make any fucking sense whatsoever, but you can’t. You are physically incapable of stopping the spiral on your own. 

Time stops when you overthink, and it’s only when more people start leaving the bus that you realize you have long missed the chance to get out, run back home, and change. You’re almost in the city, almost where your favorite coffee shop is located that you suggested to him and he agreed on, and there is no going back from here. 

You don’t know where to put your hands. They’re shaking. Your heart is beating out of your chest. The sweat in your pores is threatening to drip down your temples, it feels like, and you’re starting to worry whether or not he will be able to smell how nervous you are. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t swallow the lump in your throat because it has lodged itself between your esophagus and your larynx. It’s too much—too loud, too hot, too everything. You just want to turn around and run. You want to disappear into the ground, melt into a puddle, and stay there. 

When you look up toward the entrance of the coffee shop, he’s standing there. He’s on time. No, he’s early. The clock on your phone reads 2:28 pm. You wouldn’t have expected him to be so punctual. It scares you.

Your brain starts to secrete even more cortisol—should you run or should you fight? Fight might be the wrong word to use. It is more of a 'should you or should you not face a situation your inner demons don't want to face' dilemma.

The sudden wave of anxiety that washes over you mixes with a strange sizzling of excitement and a certain warmth that starts to build in your core. The feeling is much stranger than what you’re used to, and it makes you vibrate. Or at least it feels like you’re vibrating. Levitating. Dying. Maybe you’re having a heart attack.

Don’t be ridiculous, you think to yourself. You’re a doctor. You’re not having a heart attack. What you’re sure of though is that, if you start breathing even shallower, you will get a panic attack.

He looks good. Too good. His suit fits him perfectly. You wonder how much he spends to get his suits tailored so that he can breathe and move around freely, and still look fucking dashing whenever he sets foot outside. For someone who does mostly pro-bono work, he knows how to dress himself. 

Matt is standing away from the many people crossing the sidewalk. He’s supporting himself on his cane, his red round glasses framing his sharp features perfectly. He has the kind of cheeks you just want to squeeze, yet his jawline is sharp enough to cut yourself on it. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, so his stubble is a lot more prominent. The locks on his head seem so soft, and he keeps the rest of him clean, too—you wouldn’t expect anything less from someone who has heightened senses due to the lack of one of the most crucial ones.

The way his muscles tense under his suit catches your attention. Your breath hitches again, and this time not because you’re nervous and worried out of your mind. His biceps are straining against the sleeves of his coat, and it seems like his chiseled chest is about to pop the buttons of his dress shirt, but it still fits perfectly enough to keep every sliver of skin hidden from the world. 

Taking a deep breath, you close the distance between you. “Matt?” your voice cracks when you call his name.

He tilts his head in your direction. It doesn’t even take him a full second, nor does he pretend that he has trouble making you out of the sea of people. He probably has done this quite a few times. You can’t blame him. He’s an attractive man. 

You wonder what would happen if he was yours. Women would still want him, and you would have to have faith. You wouldn’t consider yourself an overly jealous person, but the thought of having to compete makes your stomach churn. You feel so far out of his league that it doesn’t even cross your mind that you would be his as much as he would be yours, and it is no relationship if you feel like you have to compete with other women.

A part of you believes that he is the kind of man to pay undivided attention to the person he cares about, but who is to say that you are worth his attention? Who’s to say that he wouldn’t run at the first chance to be with someone less damaged, someone who’s beautiful in a different way, and someone who can give him peace instead of whatever mess you can offer him. 

But then he smiles at you, and your worries are momentarily forgotten. 

“Liv, hi,” he says. You shudder at the smooth sound of his voice. His hand reaches out, but he misses your arm. A slight frown finds its way onto his face as if he’s thinking to himself, ‘I’m usually better than this.’

You take a step closer. He finally gets a hold of your forearm. “I hope it’s you I’m touching and not some stranger with similarly soft forearms.”

Soft. He just called you soft. You have never been called that before. The giggle that escapes you makes you wonder where you left your brain this morning. 

The left side has turned itself off entirely, leaving the right side of your brain in charge. This is the worst idea you’ve ever had. You’re already a mess. How are you supposed to survive the afternoon with him and only him? It feels like he’s staring right into your soul, which is impossible, but the glasses don’t give you insight into beautiful brown eyes, and that makes you wonder how he does it. How does he stare you down without actually staring you down?

You clear your throat. “No, it is me,” you answer. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says again. The grin doesn’t leave his lips. He lets go of your arm, seemingly having oriented himself.

“Hi,” is all you can say. You miss his touch. It wasn’t even—or at least not mostly—because he wanted to touch you. He did it because there are so many people around you and he needed to know where exactly you stand. You can only imagine the anxiety that he’s feeling.

His smile turns into a smirk. “Hi.” He’s not making this easier on you. “How are you?” Matt finally puts you out of your misery.

What is the appropriate thing to answer? Good? Nervous? That you feel like you’re dying from a heart attack? Or that you miss his hand on your soft forearm?

“I’m–” you take a deep breath. “I’m good,” you say. “How’re you?”

He nods. “I’m alright, thank you.”

Your eyes flick down to the hand on his cane. He has his head tilted in your direction, his attention entirely on you. He adjusts his glasses. His smile turns into a softer expression of concern, and it makes your heart jump.

“You seem nervous,” he observes. 

“I guess you could say that,” you admit. You can’t even stop the words before they tumble out of your mouth. “I don’t usually do this. You know, go on dates.”

“Really? Oh. I kind of figured men were lining up to get even a second of your attention, or trying to, at least.”

The blood rushes to your cheeks again. “Oh, I—No, they don’t do that.” Your head is spinning. 

You always appear unapproachable, or so you’ve heard. You don’t know if it’s the way you look at people or the way you behave. Perhaps they get scared that they will burn themselves on your burning defenses. You wouldn’t put it past them. You have pushed what little advances people have made on you in the past two years away because you were scared of burning yourself, and you weren’t interested in trying to mend that. With Matt, that’s different.

If men were lining up to be with you, your first response would surely be to flee, and not because of your personal issues with the opposite sex. You would flee out of natural instinct.

Matt clears his throat. “I’m terrible at getting hints. If I’m making you uncomfortable or you think you made the wrong choice by coming here, I wouldn’t blame you for leaving,” he says.

He’s giving you a choice—an out. That alone makes the blood in your cheeks spread faster, and your palms start sweating. You don’t want to go. 

“No,” you quickly shake your head. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Are you sure?”

You reach out, boldly so, and take his hand in yours. “Yes. Am I making you uncomfortable?” you ask. 

Matt swallows thickly. His Adam’s apple bops as he tries to get rid of the lump in his throat. His fingers twitch when you wrap your own around his and place them against your forearm again. If you look close enough, you might even see a soft sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

The silence persists for a few seconds. “No,” he answers then. “You simply have a way of, um...taking my breath away.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.” He tightens his grip. His lips open, and he stammers for a moment before he finds his words again. “I find it refreshing. It’s not often I meet someone who can knock me off my feet, so…” Breaking off into a chuckle, Matt lowers his head to adjust his glasses once again.

The way he’s fidgeting with his fingers tells you that you’re not the only nervous one out of the two of you. Maybe the fact that you render him speechless affects him more than he lets on. He seems like the kind of guy who likes to be in control because he feels like he has to be or the world might end. You know that feeling all too well.

It would be so much easier if he wasn’t so charming, but if it were easy and he wasn’t so charming, you would still feel utterly alone in this life. New beginnings are supposed to feel better than an unhappy ending. New beginnings are supposed to offer a chance at happiness, and even though you are a little late with trying to find your way back to civilization after keeping yourself locked in a cage of someone else’s making for so long, there is a chance now. A chance that you have to take. 

The easy way out would be to turn around and forget you ever met him, but Matt deserves better, and so do you. The easy way out would hurt too much.

You lick your lips absentmindedly. He sucks in a sharp breath. You’re a lot more sensitive to the behavior of others than a normal person would be. Is he attracted to you? Do you turn him on? Those are questions that make your head spin worse than it has been ever since you laid eyes on him.

“I’m sorry,” you break the awkward silence, your voice breathless. “It seems like the feeling is mutual.”

Your confidence is starting to build, convincing you that you can do this. And maybe you can. You’re not leaving him cold, that much is sure when you take a moment to analyze his body language.

His thumb brushes over your forearm. He seems so much more experienced than you, and he keeps his composure in a way you can’t relate to. You are dying inside, and the blood is pumping in your cheeks while leaving the rest of your body cold. Except for your very core; you can feel the heat starting to spread through your core, shooting between your legs just from the way he touches you. 

You thought this would be an innocent coffee date—you were wrong. Your body is as desperate for a physical connection as your soul yearns for an emotional connection. It’s a strange combination of needs that hits you at once and with full force. And it is all directed at him. This guy you barely know but has turned your head every single time you have met him. 

You’re fucked.

Matt smirks, as though he knows something that you do not. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmurs. 

“The fact that you knocked me off my feet?” you ask dumbfounded. You’re glad he can’t see your face because that would be utterly embarrassing. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “that.”

You want to scream, 'God, you’re hot,' but you would rather not embarrass yourself in front of him like that. His smirk makes it hard to focus, but if you don’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon on the sidewalk, staring at him while he holds onto your forearm, one of you has to start moving.

“Do you want to go inside?” you ask.

“Yeah. Lead the way,” he says. 

You gently slide his hand from your forearm into your own. You wish you could see his eyes right now. Are those beautiful hazel eyes with emerald specks in them sparkling? You saw how expressive they were when you patched him up. They were unfocused and pained, but they also reminded you of an array of stars. It’s probably unintentional, but his eyes give away how he’s feeling at any given time, and that, to you, is one of the most beautiful qualities he could possess because it means that he’s real. He can’t lie because his eyes would give them away. 

His glasses don’t make Matt hard to read, but they sure make you miss the universe you got to stare into a few days ago. It felt like a privilege.

He keeps his cane pressed tightly to his chest, using the tip to check the small radius around him while he holds on tightly to your hand, trusting you to guide him where he needs to go without putting him at risk. 

“Door,” you tell him as you make your way into the café. You hold it open, and he uses his cane to make sure he doesn’t accidentally bump into you or the doorframe. 

Just as you’re about to enter, a couple comes at you. You twirl around, placing a hand on his waist and pulling him a bit closer to you before someone can bump into him. He raises his eyebrows. 

“Oh,” he exclaims when the couple apologizes for not looking, and he tilts his way back in your direction, Your hands are still on his waist, standing closer to you than ever before. His cheeks flush. Got him. “Thank you,” he stammers, but not without letting out a chuckle that resembles a small giggle. 

Your heart melts, and you damn Matt Murdock for not only being a walking wet dream but for being so kindhearted and adorable. And why does he smell so good?

“No problem,” you answer breathlessly.

“It helps that one of us isn’t blind, huh?”

It’s your turn to laugh. “It’s a big responsibility if you’re seeing for two, so I try to take it seriously.”

His giggle turns into a laugh that comes deep from his chest, but it still sounds like a soft symphony you might hear playing on a spring day. “Yeah,” Matt says, “You’re taking it very seriously.”

“I’d call myself your knight in shining armor, but I believe that comparison is outdated and wrong since you don’t need saving.”

“I wouldn't mind being saved by you.”

You open your mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a startled breath. “Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

He smirks. “I wouldn’t get anything out of making you blush, but I do enjoy hearing the smile in your voice whenever I compliment you. So, maybe that’s what I’m doing.”

“Oh.”

“Your smile sounds nice. Beautiful. It’s how I, uh, see you. And you’re calm. I—the world is often too loud, you know, and your voice is a welcome distraction from all the, uh, noise. Helps me relax. If you know what I mean.”

If he keeps talking, you are sure that you will pull him closer by his waist and kiss him. You can’t remember the last time you have felt a need quite like this one. And you have never wanted to kiss another human being more than him. Why? Just because he’s nice to you? No. He’s not just nice to you. You probably would have run by now if he were just nice to you. 

Matt is genuine, which seems to be his personality trait, and it makes you feel somewhat important again. Like you’re worthy of whatever it is he’s giving you, not constant pain and suffering. It’s strange and new, and it is still terrifying in a way, but once you let it happen, it’s a lot more gentle on your soul.

“Fuck me,” you curse under your breath. “We haven’t even sat down yet.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “No.”

“So, does that mean I can still buy you a coffee?”

“Now more than ever,” you blurt the first sentence that comes to mind. You look at him as if he is a rare species, and you’re painfully aware of that.

Can he read your mind? Whenever you look at him, it seems like he knows just what you’re going through. He tries to hide it, but it’s almost as if he’s already inside of you. Not in the way you want him to but in a way that makes you feel vulnerable, but you still would surrender all of you to him if he just asked. 

Your hands slip from his waist. 

“After you,” he says, grabbing a hold of your arm again.

“Right,” you mutter. “After me.”

The line isn’t long.  You get behind a few other people, Matt’s hand still tightly clasping your bicep. 

“I just realized that they don’t have a Braille option for the menu.” Your eyes dart around the room, but the only visible menu is the one hanging above the counter. 

You’ve been here more times than you can count, but you never actively paid attention to how accessible it all is—which is not at all. 

Matt chuckles beside you, his breath tickling your ear. “Read it to me,” he says. His voice is soft, quiet, and kept low so only you can hear him.

You shiver. Your lips suddenly feel drier than the desert. You won’t survive this day, you’re sure. He’s going to kill you.

“R-read it to you?” you stammer as if it is such an outlandish request. It isn’t. You just can’t process it properly, not when he’s so close to you and he smells like he does. 

He doesn’t have a strong, overwhelming scent. The cologne he’s wearing only has a slight whiff of sandalwood and nature, but it’s nothing too overwhelming. Of course, he must have a sensitive sense of smell as well. He probably uses scentless soap and shampoo, and the cologne he uses might even be the only scent he can stand. What you smell on him must be his natural scent. Clean, soft, warm—you’re obsessed with it. You’re addicted to it.

Matt nods again. “Yeah, read it to me,” he repeats.

“Okay–” you take a deep breath, and you begin to recite the options you already know by heart. Coffee, cold drinks, tea, lunch options, and snacks. 

He listens intently to what you have to say. “I think I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Did you decide that now or did you know that from the beginning?”

“I may have already known,” he says with a smirk.

“Then why did you ask me to read it to you?”

“I like listening to your voice.”

When you suck in a sharp breath this time, you manage to conceal it better. “That’s cheesy,” you retort, trying to match the tone of his voice but failing miserably. Flirting over the phone proves to be much easier than in person, especially with a man like him. 

“Is it still cheesy if it’s the truth?” Matt asks.

You look at him, staring at your reflection in his glasses, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “The truth can be cheesy.”

“That’s true, but I made you smile. I’d consider my cheesiness successful.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

He chuckles. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t. Can’t deny it makes me feel good though.”

You exhale again, even more shaky than the last time. All you can see is yourself in his reflection. Before you can answer, the couple in front of you finishes their order and moves on to the other end of the counter, allowing you to step forward.

“Hi,” you say to the barista behind the counter. “Could I get two regular lattes and two muffins, please?”

Matt smirks beside you, not at all fazed by your ignorance of his antics. If anything, it spurs him on further, and he tightens his grip on your arm. Deep down, you know that he is doing it on purpose, but at the first sign of you being uncomfortable, there is no doubt in your mind that he will stop. But you’re not uncomfortable; you’re merely flustered beyond relief. To him, that’s a good sign because it means that you’re in this and not with one foot out the door—and you wouldn’t want to be, anyway, which is much scarier than the prospect of turning around and remaining alone for the rest of your life. 

A bit of fear goes a long way, but there are still walls that he has to break through. Walls you won’t let him through so easily, but you also know you can’t keep him at an arm’s length forever. Eventually, the truth will come out, and you’re not quite sure how to deal with that revelation before your date has even taken off.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia @writtenbyred

[atoriv-art]

I’m deeply in love with your artstyle! What do you headcanon for the Naruto characters appearances and how did you come to that?

thank you!! assuming you mean facial features + body types and the like, it's honestly a very "vibes"-based approach AKSDMKM i wrote down a feeew of my thoughts in [ this post ] (which i doodled as i was still not done watching naruto LMAO) but it's mostly about like.. picking aspects of the character that jump out to me and thinking about how to incorporate that in my interpretation of them, a lot of the time it's their eyes (for example i Adore itachi's stupid prettyboy eyelashes so i knew i wanted to draw those) but it could be just about anything; some examples of my beloved Guys:

with itachi i wanted a 'ghostly' kind of look to him because he is very aloof and distant, i also like having him be Long and Bony for a lack of a better word for the same reason?

with sasuke i wanted a very sweet and earnest "trying to look tough but failing because he's a little guy" vibe, mostly because those are the thoughts that were going thru my brain in any given sasuke scene in our naruto watch

for kakashi i needed his prettyboy charms coupled with his depressed everything

etc! it's hard to convey how/why something comes off a certain way, and that's mostly because imo any given appearance can be used to convey any sort of idea depending on execution! it's not Just "round = friendly and triangle = angry" yk you gotta like. flavor it for the lack of a better word

i'll put the rest under a read more so it's not too long ^^

for more general examples here's my kabuto (yeah i'm a kabuto liker. woe.), konan and nagato

kabuto (esp. in shippuden) has sharper features and i also wanted to go with a face type i'm not AS used to drawing for funsies, i also think the Angles contrast well with his (...stupid...) glasses.

kabuto is an adult but he's still very young esp when we first meet him so when drawing his younger self i'd like to put emphasis on that (especially because he presents himself as friendly), thus the slightly rounder features. by contrast in shippuden he's Going Through Some Things so the spikes in his hair are emphasized and he looks a bit more mature

konan for me sticks out as like, "bold"? not aggressive but very intense if that makes any sense, she's a very serious person and you can tell from the moment you see her, nagato ofc has the rinnegan so his eyes have to be the main feature of his face, and similar to itachi he has a thinner body type... what i wanted with him was similarly a very serious person with a lot of edge to his gaze due to his special dojutsu. and finally on a more subjective level i wanted them to look like they match/belong together because i'm very normal about them ♥

i also enjoy conveying character through how hair is maintained, so for nagato he lets his hair grow kind of however it wants to, konan is more meticulous about hers (tho i forgot to draw her bun in that LOL), and kabuto (given when his design transitions to the shorter hair) i very much picture cutting his in a moment of crisis (pictured below. <3)

there's also always like.. the Fullness of the hair if it makes sense, i enjoy drawing 'fluffier' stereotypical anime hairstyles a lot but i also really like having people like itachi with finer hair and such, i also think varying that between characters gives each a more unique charm :)

one should also note that a lot of the times the physical features are only half the impression, the other half is how they carry themselves and body language conscious And subconscious!

i think in general studying from life will never lead you wrong (even if your style isn't 'realistic', like, mine certainly has anime leanings), and being mindful of what kind of choice/feature you give someone and what you think that implies about them is always important :) the characters i draw are all characters i like so i try to let whatever makes me fond about them have an influence ^^

it's a constant learning process imo i personally find that even if i like how i draw faces Now i often find them wonky like, 6 months later? but i take that less to mean that i drew them Bad and more to mean i've improved lol

[dasher85]

lost.

featuring our Elucidation duo

Alhaitham x reader | y/n | you

short story: just a little bit of romance, adventure and fantasy.

[ Part 1 ] | Part 2

[ His own decisions brought him here. ] 

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

The sun has just risen from the horizon, a few droplets of dew fall down the leaf from the Sumeru rose. The city has just started to wake up in unison with the morning hour. 

"Did you already pack the lunch and water?"

He nodded, quietly observing the restless frown on your face.

"Alright. Have a safe trip" You spoke as you displayed a small smile.

Alhaitham who was towering over you didn't speak a word. He didn't have much to say but he's waiting for you to look up and meet his gaze. So he just stood there, in place.

"Eh? You forgot something?" You quickly looked over your shoulder to check through the opened front door if something was left unpacked.

"...Listen-"

"Hmm??" You were still unsatisfied with your view that you almost turned around to walk back inside the house and just properly check the kitchen table. It was where you packed his lunch earlier. 

He swiftly took hold of your arm to stop you from walking back inside.

"What is it?" You halted and finally met his calm gaze.

"...are you worried?"

"Not at all." You smiled but he already knew you were. 

"Do you want me to stay?" He adds.

"No… you better get going now" you exclaimed trying to show him assurance that it's all good. 

After returning to being the Akademiya's Scribe once more, he has much more time to venture outside. Every once in a while he'll be venturing out at those places he deemed worthy for a visit. He actually intended to bring you along with him but decided to forbid you from doing too much physical activities considering your recent ruins accident.

"Don't worry, I'll return before sundown"

"Of course, I know."

He nodded. He then bought his hand towards you as his fingers gently tapped on the slight frown that was forming on your face.

"What was that for?" You laughed at such an unexpected gesture from him.

"That's… more like it" he softly whispered followed by a gentle arc forming on his lips.

You took hold of his hand that was slightly covering your view to move it away but by then he had already returned to his previous self, unsmiling. 

He naturally grasped your hand in response to your gesture.

You casually searched his eyes, waiting for him to say something because he's only been staring back at you. His teal eyes greatly amplified the attention he placed on you. 

"It's fine really… I just want to make sure you've got everything you need. You're good to go. I'll be staying at home, finishing that book and cook for dinner later."

He nods, before finally releasing your hand from his hold just to fix the side of your hair that wasn't even disarranged. It was just an excuse to run his fingers through your silky hair although his facial expression was unmatched with his intentions.

Perhaps it was the way you innocently looked back at him or the way your hair could effortlessly run through his fingers. There were  many other unexplained reasons for his own understanding but nevertheless these little things made him subconsciously smile.

He was smitten all over again.

You smiled knowingly, already planning to tease him. "What are you thinking now?"

He suddenly cleared his throat although he's perfectly healthy. 

"Nothing, but…" 

As natural as it was, he effortlessly lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Just the usual.

"On the lips, no?" You unexpectedly added just to create tension because you knew he's trying to get away from all the teasing.

He briefly paused to look at you, seemingly evaluating if he got it wrong. He seems surprised but also calm at the same time. It was difficult to read him just by his facial expression.

"...you're just teasing me, aren't you?" 

You laughed, revealing pure satisfaction after seeing the frown appearing on his face.

He eventually sighed with a small smile, feeling a little helpless against your jest.

"Just go now, you'll be late" You managed to say right after calming down from all the laughter.

"So it seems…"

Alhaitham is no romantic when it comes to these little gestures. It might be simple or it might be brief but whenever he does it, it'll leave a significant increase in your heart rate. 

The moment his warm breath lingers on your skin, your mind has already stopped working. All you could think of was the proximity between you and him that slowly became non existence. 

"...you're not denying it" he softly whispered those words against your lips. As if his lips brushing against yours weren't a contributing factor towards your health because according to him, you shouldn't be involved in any of those challenging physical activities. How could he simply go against his own word?

Unlike you, he was just as calm. The closeness he feels, the sensation of your soft lips and the fragrant perfume on you was all but soothing to him. He feels at home, comfort and peace. You're his embodiment of pure love. A chemical mixture he couldn't recreate or acquire anywhere else. 

As simple as that, he eventually unhurriedly pressed his lips on yours. As if fulfilling the request you didn't actually think of getting just so unexpectedly considering his serious demeanor. 

"I feel like being that clingy person now." You displayed a smile once he finally distanced himself from you. "Get going now, aren't you supposed to be on time?"

"You said I'm more clingy than you"

"Yes. Yes you are. That's fact"

"I don't see that as a problem… well then" 

He swiftly spun around and walked down the path without looking back. Now that he has properly made sure you're emotionally happy, his focus is completely placed on his journey.

His map was inside his pouch, his earphones were charged, a sufficient bottle of water and a sand resistant cloak was readily available for him. That was the only thing he needed for this one day trip but you literally made him carry a bag of extra things that he actually deemed unnecessary. Even so, he didn't complain and went along with it.

Alhaitham once went to the cafe and just listened to random conversations from families or couples that also sat nearby his table. He did that just to observe real common behavior and interactions between these groups of people. Well, he found out that the books he read were only 65% accurate. At the end of the day he still concluded that everything depends on a person's characteristics.

It is considered impractical to be an acquiescent person and he's well aware of that but if doing that something can make you happy then he'll just skip the reasoning part for that. Much like today, if he were to reason to you about how bringing a bag was unnecessary… he'll be the one who's gonna regret it. 

In order to have a seamless travel, he needs to remove the possibility of you being upset with him. The possibility of it depends on how he handles it too. Therefore, agreeing to your suggestions will significantly increase the chances that you'll be happy. However, if you're upset then the higher the chances that he'll feel troubled. Such negative emotions would surely distract and hinder his focus.

It's laughable how his emotions depend on you now. He's well aware about this even before starting the relationship but based on his calculated reasoning, not having you all by himself is equivalent to an infinite amount of sadness and it's definitely not worth living that life. 

To make things simple, the reason why he could walk with confidence and a clear mind is all thanks to you. Now, it may sound exaggerated but that's just how much he loves you in his own way. He won't elaborate much on that though because he didn't want you to think that he's not being sincere. 

Alhaitham walked along the sand dunes while deliberately ignoring the sands that are accumulating inside his boots. He already planned to get rid of it once he reaches the place.

Today's trip was just simply for sightseeing. It's his first time going there, hence he has yet to determine if it's worth a second time visiting the newly mapped place. The ruins to be specific was discovered just a week ago by adventurers and he just thought it would be nice to quench his curiosity.

The scorching sun didn't bother him but it's only because he came prepared with a sunblock readily applied on his skin. Otherwise how would he be so confident against the ultraviolet light.

He covers his face with a hand against the sudden wind of sand before continuing his walk down the sand dune. The door of the ruins was already visible from a distance. He just had to detour around the oasis and possibly keep himself hidden from the hillichurl camp nearby. It's not that much of a challenge for him.

Minutes later, he reached the starting point without getting spotted by the enemies. The entrance was seemingly normal, nothing special at first glance, just the typical similar ones he used to study.

Without any delay, after lighting up a fire torch, he went in to inspect the overall walls. The emerald diamond on his chest glimmered  in the dark as it reflected a fraction of the torch's light. His Dendro vision at the side of his arm, emanates a soft green glow. 

After a few minutes of walking inside, he was now standing in front of two different passages. One straight up front and one that goes to the left. He shines in the light through the newfound entrance but it seems both leads to a longer path.

He calmly proceeds to check the entrance walls if there's any other ancient text written on it but weirdly enough he didn't find any indication. 

After staring at both passages for a few seconds he randomly decided to go to the left side first. The floor was made of similar blocks of bricks with the walls, the air was dry and each step he took increased the density of dust inside the passage.

He walked for probably an hour but he still doesn't know where it leads or how far it takes him. It's quite odd but he hasn't encountered any danger yet so kept pushing further ahead.

Alhaitham sighed, feeling disappointed with his current progress. He should've discovered something interesting by now. It's been two hours and still nothing. No room, no ancient text or no ancient writings on the walls.

He then decides to return back towards the entrance. Considering the time he needs to get here, he'll need to cover another two hours just to return back. The torch won't last any longer than six hours, so heading back was the safest option for now.

'Could this be a trap?' That thought suddenly transpired in his ever so calm mind. Despite that he was unruffled.

He eventually reached the beginning of the branched path and walked a few more minutes to reach the main entrance. His torch was still burning by the time he's outside.

It's probably in the late afternoon as the sun was still visible. He sat by the entrance, to take a short break, drank water and finally decided to eat the lunch that he wasn't able to eat earlier.

He opened the container with a slight smile expecting to see a wonderfully prepared food but then… the food was already spoiled. Even the pita pockets were beyond edible although it's known to be fresh for a whole day. 

"How is that possible?" He frowned unhappily. Sadly he had to throw it all away.

After another moment, he properly packed up his bag, and it's time to head back to Sumeru city. Following the same path back, he noticed the oasis nearby was all but dried mud without a trace of lush palm trees and the hillichurl camp wasn't there anymore. Seeing how things had changed too quickly, he somehow grew worried. 

Alhaitham, who've only eaten breakfast, steadily jogged his way back. He's unable to logically reason out his feelings but if something happened to Sumeru city, it's most likely going to affect the desert too.

Once he arrived at the Sumeru's entrance gate, the hustle and bustle at the city was just as normal which slightly calmed his restless heart. He went home, checked the shoe rack just to quickly confirm if you're at home but it seems it’s just him at home.

According to the time, he assumed you might be out buying groceries. He straight away went to shower as if he wasn't actually freaking out minutes ago.

Returning home from the adventurers guild, you sadly sighed, feeling tired and downhearted. No progress and no new information. People start to doubt the effort and slowly start to reduce the search. The look on their faces was pity and doubt, it saddened you even more.

"I should start cooking dinner now" you slowly try to forget it and keep up the hope. 

Alhaitham walked downstairs and neatly placed the damp towel on the wooden chair that he has used to dry his hair. He's all freshened up after the long distance run but one thing he couldn't ignore was the feeling of hunger.

He swiftly walked to the kitchen, already planning to cook something simple just to quiet down the hunger pains. It was too much for his own comfort.

The late afternoon glow painted the kitchen walls a comfortable hue. Just the comfy atmosphere. He can already smell the mouthwatering food being cooked. Oddly enough, he's beyond starving. 

"Y/n…" he walks over towards you.

You're facing the kitchen sink, the tap water was rushing with water and the clattering of the lid that was left overheated.

He glanced at the closed pan and swiftly opened the lid to let out the steam.

"...do you need any help?"

You quickly closed the tap water to confirm if someone was talking.

"How odd… had I imagined it?" Upon turning around it was just you there. You walked over towards the pan and frowned upon seeing that the lid was moved.

"...Y/n?!"

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

A/N: Idk what I was thinking while writing this but I love making things complicated for them. I'll see how this part goes and then continue with part 2 if required (actually I’m excited to write the part where he returns). Just let me know

[honestmagpie]

Time for me to post my Older Raz AU design more. :)

I like giving my Raz just a lil scruff of facial hair on occasion. A few piercings. He absolutely has tattoos I just haven't drawn him without a coat in a while and haven't determined what exactly or where.

Also goddammit I forgot to add his coat patches I knew something looked wrong but I'm not gonna fix it just like I'm not gonna fix his right arm die mad about it.

[recurring-polynya]

Sometimes, when I'm in the middle of writing something, I post little previews, and this is, like, the opposite of that. I've mentioned that I have been re-reading my big series, The Heart is a Muscle, in preparation for writing a new installment, and I came across this bit, which I think might be the most Polynya piece of writing I have ever written. It's close to three years old now, so maybe you missed it or maybe you forgot it or maybe you would just like to read it again, and also, this is my blog and I can post what I want.

This is an excerpt from Chapter 7 of Call Me Back When the War is Over, in which, as part of an escalating series of sibling passive-aggressions, Byakuya informs Rukia that she is inadequately polite to his lieutenant, and makes her invite Renji over for dinner. Renji, a chump, goes along with all of this, and spends the 24 hours leading up to it getting a bunch of terrible advice from his friends and digging through Bulletin backissues for Byakuya's old etiquette column. Anyway. Enjoy.

Renji arrived at Kuchiki Manor at 6:45pm. He had actually arrived at 6:40, but that seemed too early, so he stood at the front door for five minutes before knocking. The doorman, who surely knew he had been there the entire time, let him in immediately, and escorted him to a parlor where Rukia and Byakuya were sitting and chatting quietly. 

"Lieutenant Abarai," the footman announced, and disappeared again. 

Both Kuchiki siblings rose at his entrance, and Renji felt his mouth go dry. He didn't belong here. This was insane. He wanted to turn around and walk straight back to the Eleventh. Except, he realized with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, he didn't belong there anymore either, and to be honest, he didn't actually want to go back. He was the assistant captain of Sixth Company, and this was a thing the assistant captain of Sixth Company did. He was pretty good at most of the other parts of being the assistant captain of Sixth Company, he was just going to have to figure this out, too. 

Then he caught sight of Rukia, Lady Rukia for the next hour, he reminded himself. Her kimono was flattering and her hair charmingly arrayed, but it was her facial expression that did him in: the pleased look in her eyes, the relaxed eyebrows, the little half-smile. He'd shown up looking okay, apparently, and that gave him the little shove he needed to tackle the next hurdle. 

Renji bowed, holding out the bundle of snow drops he had brought for her. He was going to say it. He tried to remember facing down Aizen, he’d somehow gotten his mouth to work that day. It wasn't helping. "Good evening, Lady Rukia," he managed stiffly. "Thank you for inviting me." She relieved him of the flowers graciously. He straightened and stared her dead in the eye. "You look very lovely tonight!" He sounded like he was criticizing the shoddy battle stance of one of his subordinates. It’s good enough, he told himself, at least I got it out.

Rukia’s mouth quirked up with suppressed laughter. She regarded him over the top of her flowers. "Thank you for coming, Lieutenant Abarai, you look very handsome yourself."

His cheeks blazing scarlet, Renji turned abruptly towards his captain, bowing deeply. "Good evening to you, too, Captain, you also look very handsome!" That was wrong. Oh, shit. That was definitely wrong. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed to Byakuya, looking horrified. 

The captain nodded with a pained facial expression, but otherwise ignoring the faux pas. “Welcome to our home, Lieutenant. You are… certainly wearing a haori.”

Renji looked down self-consciously at his outfit. He was wearing his best kimono, which usually only saw action on New Year’s, but his old haori was looking a little worse-for-wear, especially up close, so he’d borrowed one. It was a little more ostentatious than he would have preferred, emerald green, embroidered with gold cranes at the hem and sleeves. It was also a tiny bit short in the arms, but he had thought it would do. “It’s too much, eh?”

“It’s fine,” Rukia assured him, glaring at her brother.

“It’s too much,” Byakuya mouthed back to him.

Renji nodded anxiously.

A servant showed up at the door. “The dining room is prepared,” he announced.

Renji breathed out as Byakuya led the way. 

“Relax,” Rukia mouthed to him, pausing a moment to give Renji's haori a little tug. “And don’t listen to him, I like it.”

“It’s Iba’s,” Renji admitted.

Rukia smirked at him, which to be honest, made him feel a little better.

They paraded into the dining room, and as expected, Byakuya and Rukia each took one end of the table, and Renji took the spot to Byakuya’s right. He watched Byakuya out of the corner of his eye, and sat a moment after his host. Byakuya nodded, almost imperceptibly. 

A servant placed a tray of food in front of him. It was very...arranged. It looked like an art project. He didn't want to eat it. Someone had worked so hard on this. 

"Ah, what a delight to return to spring cuisine," Byakuya commented. "Although heavy stews or the fire of a good curry are always warming on a cold day, I prefer the lighter delicacy of a vernal meal."

Renji stared at his captain, baffled. The only time his captain ever got going like this was when he was lecturing an enemy on their arrogance. Was that what this was? A battle?

"I do so enjoy a clam miso soup, and the long absence only serves to enhance the flavor of the shellfish with that most pungent seasoning, nostalgia."

Renji's eyes darted to Rukia, hoping for some hint as to how to react. She was gripping her chopsticks and glaring at Byakuya, who did not appear to notice her. Ah! She was waiting for him to start eating, and he was stalling, trying to make his dumb ol' lieutenent screw up, Renji realized. Well, he wasn't gonna. First point goes to the Dumb Ol' Lieutenant.

"And what is your favorite seasonal delicacy, Lieutenant?" Byakuya asked.

The right answer was probably seared swallow wings or some damn thing he'd never heard of. Renji might be dumb, but he wasn't dumb enough to pretend to know about fancy shit in front of the All-Time King Fancy-Shit Knower of Soul Society. "Don’t know if it’s my favorite, but I got some nice shirasu down at the fish market this weekend. Had 'em with some bamboo shoots, real lightly sauteed. Felt very springtime-y."

Captain Kuchiki stared at him like he'd just sprouted a second head.

"That sounds delightfully seasonal," Rukia said, a bit too loudly. As if she hadn't eaten most of it herself. Renji got the message, though: she didn't want him to mention that she'd been coming over for dinner. As if he were that stupid. 

“Sounds a bit rustic to me,” Byakuya replied.

“I hear rustic is the big trend these days,” Rukia continued. “I read an article about it in the Bulletin.”

“I do not care for fads. Dining should be a very classical experience.”

Were… were Rukia and Byakuya arguing over his cooking?

“You know what would be really trendy?” Rukia replied sweetly. “If we could eat while our food was still hot.”

“Ah, I was so distracted by this charming conversation,” Byakuya replied, equally sweetly, but putting his hands together. “Itadakimasu.”

“Itadakimasu,” Rukia and Renji echoed together. 

Byakuya picked up his chopsticks, but then paused over his soup. “Who is doing restaurant critique at the Bulletin these days?”

Rukia looked blank.

“It’s Captain Outoribashi, actually,” Renji supplied. Point number two to Lieutenant Dumbass.

Byakuya’s brows creased. “The man has been out of the loop for over a century.”

“I guess he thought it would be a good way to get back into it. He makes Lieutenant Kira go with him.”

Rukia made a suppressed snorting noise in her nose.

“Hmm,” Byakuya replied thoughtfully, finally picking up his soup and tasting it.

Renji glanced at Rukia, who shot him a relieved eye roll, and started in on her own. Okay. Everyone else was eating, he could eat now. He examined his tray. There was soup. There was fish. There were some pickled greens. There was a grassy thing that looked like cabbage, except Renji was used to shredded cabbage in a big heap, and this was carved extremely carefully and lined up in bundles like miniature hay bales. No one would spend that much energy on cabbage, would they? Shit. Momo had warned him that sometimes in fancy dining, there were “garnishes” that were sometimes okay to eat and sometimes not. Was this a garnish? There was also a radish carved to look like a flower. That seemed like a garnish. But it was also a radish, so that one could go either way, too.

Renji glanced at Rukia, trying to catch her eye. Her eyebrows creased. He picked up a cabbage cube with his chopsticks and slowly moved it toward his mouth, waiting for a reaction from her. She looked deeply confused.

Fuck. In their youth, in the high grifting days of their adolescence, they had developed a complicated non-verbal language of hand signs and facial tics. He knew how to ask her if the back door was unguarded or if Byakuya had any cash on his person, but they didn’t have one for “is this a garnish or not?” They were going to need to come up with a whole new set.

Renji put the cabbage back down and picked up the radish flower instead and did the same motion. Rukia frowned deeply, and shook her head frantically. Renji put it back down, and pointed to the cabbage again. Rukia’s mouth formed into an understanding “oh” and she gave him an encouraging nod. 

Renji took a bite. It was definitely cabbage. He looked up suddenly, and realized that Byakuya was staring at him. Captain Kuchiki’s eyes slid to Rukia, and then back to Renji. “This is really good cabbage,” Renji announced. “Very creative. Tying it up, all neat like that.” Did Byakuya get a point for that, or did Renji lose one? Maybe he should stop trying to keep score.

Byakuya cleared his throat. “So, Lieutenant. I hear the Futsal League Championships concluded this week. Do you have any opinions on the results?”

Renji chewed his cabbage very thoroughly, thinking frantically. Of course he had opinions on the results. He had bags of opinions on the results. But Izuru and Momo had specifically warned him against talking about futsal. Was this a trap? He took a long sip of tea.

“While obviously, I wish our squad had managed to qualify for the play-offs instead of utterly falling apart while I was gone, I was pleased to see Ten take the cup. They are a very hard-working club and Captain Hitsugaya puts a lot of thought and care into his strategic play.”

“I don’t think captains should be allowed to participate,” Byakuya opined.

“Well, he’s the only one who does,” Renji frowned. “I don’t really see a problem with it.” He probably shouldn’t say the next part, but he couldn’t help it. “I mean, you would be welcome to join our squad if you wanted to.”

“I just said I felt it was unjust," Byakuya sniffed.  "Why should I go against my principles?”

Renji shrugged. “To make a point. To completely dominate for a single season, and then get banned. Seems like the sort of thing you’d like.” He shouldn’t have said that. He definitely shouldn’t have said that.

And yet… Byakuya seemed to be considering it.

“Do you even know how to play futsal, Brother?” Rukia asked curiously.

“It cannot be hard.”

“There’s no spiritual pressure enhancement allowed,” Renji pointed out. “You bring your muscles and that’s it. Also, you have to wear shorts.” Byakuya had made his opinions on shorts well-known in the past, namely that they were an abomination unto Soul Society and that visible knees had no place in polite company.

“Hmmph, that doesn’t sound very interesting at all.”

“It’s pretty fun,” Rukia pointed out. “I’m thinking about putting a team together for next season, once I’m vice-captain. We have enough players, but Kiyone and Sentarou are always too disorganized when sign-ups roll around.”

“Really?” Renji asked, eyes wide. 

“I wasn’t so bad in the old days,” Rukia shrugged.

“No! No, you were great! That-- that would be awesome! I didn’t think-- I would love it! The league could really use another team. Do you think you would play pivot? You have such a strong shot.” He was babbling and he couldn’t stop. Byakuya was going to stab him in the face in a minute and he was going to die in the most Renji way possible, gushing about Rukia and futsal at the same time.

“You’d have to play against me, you know,” Rukia teased. “I only want to play so I can see your dumb loser face when I score on you.”

Byakuya cleared his throat, and Rukia and Renji abruptly straightened up.

“That sounds lovely, Lady Rukia, I quite look forward to it,” Renji announced stiffly.

Rukia tried to look serious, but she couldn't stop smiling or looking at him. Renji's heart flip-flopped. She was so beautiful. He was making a huge fool of himself in front of his captain, and it was all worth it, to see her like this.

Rukia took a bite of the pickle, and then blinked, her face truly serious, now. “Brother, the nozawana is quite spicy today.”

Byakuya cocked his head to the side. “Truly? It is a bit piquant, but I would hardly think that with your palate--”

“Not everyone likes spicy things, Brother,” Rukia bit off, her eyes darting toward Renji.

Byakuya stared at Renji, a weird sort of fake concern on his face. “You do not care for spicy food, Lieutenant?”

“Well, it’s not my favorite,” Renji excused, “but it would be boorish of me not to enjoy this meal in its entirety, as the chef intended.” 

Byakuya blinked at him and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

Oh. Oh shit. Renji realized, belatedly, that he had just quoted one of Byakuya's etiquette columns, word-for-word. Had Byakuya caught him on it, or was he just wondering why that phrase sounded so familiar? As a distraction Renji stuffed a massive bite of pickle in his mouth.

It was “a bit piquant” in the way that Ryuujin Jakka was a little bit on fire. But Renji had endured a lot of physical pain in his life, he could take this. His eyes were watering, but he managed to maintain a straight face. Rukia was watching him like she expected him to start heaving any second. Byakuya was also watching him with an air of bored curiosity, which was slowly morphing into horror. Carefully, Renji swallowed, feeling the pickle burn all the way down his throat. Still. It was not worse than being shredded by Senbonzakura. At least there was some use for having that benchmark in his life.

“Renji, are you okay?” Rukia asked, abandoning her formal tone of voice.

“Please do not injure yourself, Lieutenant,” Byakuya added.

“I’m… good,” Renji croaked, after a long sip of tea. “Maybe we could talk about something. Instead of everyone lookin’ at how bad my face looks right now.”

Rukia let out a long sigh.

A servant very discreetly placed a fresh cup of tea in front of Renji. “Thanks,” he nodded, and chugged that one, too. One million points to the Assistant Dumbass of Squad 6.

“I have been dominating the conversation,” Byakuya announced, not sounding the least bit sorry about it. “Rukia, you know your guest better than I, perhaps you could suggest a topic that perhaps he could tell us something new and interesting about.”

Rukia shot Byakuya a look that very clearly said, ‘You share an office with this guy, you see him every day, are you kidding me?’ while she swallowed the (overlarge) bite she was currently working on. Fortunately, Rukia seemed prepared for this possibility, and already had a topic at hand.

“You’ve always been such an avid reader, Lieutenant Abarai, what book is keeping you up late at night these days?”

This was the second time she had addressed him by his title, and it sent a little shiver down his spine each time. Did she feel the same way when he called her Lady Rukia? Probably not, judging by the face she usually made when he did it. Byakuya regarded him curiously while he tried to get his tongue back in order.

“Ah, well, I’ve been a bit overtaxed, catching up at work, you know,” he stumbled. Don’t talk about work! Kira’s voice scolded him. “So, I, uh, admit that I’ve been retreating into old favorites. Got an urge to re-read ‘War Between the Oak and the River.’ It’s like visitin’ a friend you haven’t seen in a while, y’know?”

Rukia’s eye twitched. Why had she even asked him this? She hated listening to him carry on about his favorite books. 

“Did you know, Lieutenant,” Byakuya broke in, “that is also one of my favorites?”

“You don’t say,” Renji replied mildly. Of course he knew it was one of Byakuya’s favorites. Was he an amateur? Oh! Oh, wait! That was why Rukia had asked about books. Cripes, he was lucky to have her on his side.

“Rukia and I attended a theatrical performance based on it several years ago,” Byakuya went on.

“Hmm, was it any good?”

“The adaptation was faithful, but there was an inclusion of musical numbers that I did not care for.”

“There are an awful lot of songs written into the text.”

“Oh, I approved of the songs in principle, I simply found their arrangements to be insipid. The actor who played Mamushi was simply brilliant, though. I hear he will be portraying Yamasachihiko in a production of ‘Cormorant House’ later this summer, I am very much looking forward to it.”

“That’s some range,” Renji commented, tasting some of the main dish, a lightly vinegared sayori. It was probably the best piece of fish he had ever eaten, and he was a little sorry that he'd already burned off most of his tastebuds with the nozawana.

“This is the postmodernist novel, ‘Cormorant House’, it came out maybe twenty years ago--”

“I read it,” Renji assured him. He glanced over to Rukia quickly, suddenly fearful that he was fucking this up and hadn’t even noticed. She looked strangely smug. He looked back to Byakuya. “Not usually much for postmodernism, but I liked that one a lot, maybe because it was a folktale reinterpretation. I always go in for that stuff. I, uh, did a lot of reading when I was in Squad 11. Good use of your rest days, I always said.” 

Byakuya was still regarding him like some sort of stranger who just happened to have his lieutenant’s distinctive haircut. 

“Anyway,” Renji said, nodding to Rukia. “Back to ‘War Between the Oak and the River’. I’m almost up to your favorite part.”

“Where the possessed suit of armor attacks the castle?” Rukia asked.

Now Byakuya was staring at Rukia as though this were the inverted world. “They cut that part from the play.”

“A travesty,” Rukia announced.

“But how did you know of it?”

“I’ve read your boring old favorite book, Brother.” She paused to take a sip of tea. “Renji made me.”

Byakuya’s eyes darted between them.

“It was a fluke, I’m sure,” Renji replied. To be honest, he couldn’t remember how he had convinced Rukia to make through an eleven-hundred page semi-historical novel that tended to take deep swerves into poetry written in an invented tree-people language. He did remember her attempting to make sure that particular literary journey was as painful for him as it was for her. It hadn't worked, though, the memory of being poked and kicked and complained at was swathed in a pleasant haze of cozy togetherness. When had that happened? “It was very thoughtful, Lady Rukia,” he added, “to take time out of reading your dust-covered medieval kidou texts to try to relate to your brother and myself.”

“Maybe you should try reading one of my ‘dust-covered medieval kidou texts’, sometime, Lieutenant Abarai,” Rukia returned. “Couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure it could,” Renji assured her. “You know I’m banned from the public kidou butts, right?” Do not talk about the time you got banned from the public kidou butts!! Momo and Izuru’s simultaneous voices rang in his head.

Byakuya had unwisely chosen that moment to take a sip of his soup, and he sat, frozen, his bowl at this lips. Renji could not gauge his captain’s expression in the least, beyond “trying very hard not to spit out soup.”

Renji cleared his throat. “Er, my apologies, sir. That’s not an appropriate story for polite company.”

Rukia’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened eagerly.

Byakuya couldn’t manage to swallow his soup, and his face was turning a little bit red.

Renji backpedaled furiously. “I mean! It wasn’t anything indecent, just kinda dirtbaggy! I did set someone on fire, but to be fair, it was Captain Kyouraku. I am going to stop talking now, nothing I say is making this any better.”

Byakuya set his bowl down with a loud clunk, and with grace and self-possession only the 28th Head of the Kuchiki Clan could manage, forced his soup down his throat. “If you do not relate this incident immediately, I am going to fire you. Do not omit any details.”

Renji glanced over at Rukia, who was leaning forward, her chin propped on one hand, an expression of rapt (and utterly sarcastic) interest on her face.

“Well…” he said slowly. “I guess I should start with Lieutenant Kira’s birthday party...”

[cherryfemm]

Welcome to Merston High

Chapter five - Being in Denile

Cleo strutted down the hallway in front of all of her loyal subjects. Some smiling and waving, others, mostly Clawdeen scowling and rolling their eyes. She blew kisses and waved back as she made her way to her locker. As she opened it a note fell to her feet. She picked the note expecting the usual, either a girl begging to be on the cheer squad or a guy begging her for a date.

'I hope you had a good time this summer,

I sure did'

She quickly folded the letter in half multiple times and shoved it into her purse. She knew exactly what it meant and who it was about. For a moment the note made her smile but she immediately thought about the consequences of her actions. Clawdeen and Draculaura soon approached Cleo, Clawdeen being reluctantly dragged by Draculaura.

"Hey Cleo, did you have a good summer in Greece?" Draculaura excitedly beamed. "I bet you saw so many hot guys,"

Cleo sighed. "Yeah, so many.."

"Must be nice, I was stuck on a rickety boat touching worms all day" Clawdeen tutted.

"Yikes, yeah your brother told me you weren't having fun," Cleo coughed at the thought.

Clawdeen rolled her eyes once more. "Yeah I forgot you and Clawd are besties now" She tutted. "I'm surprised you even got in that car this morning, I thought it wouldn't be up to your standards,"

While Cleo wouldn't have said it to his face Clawdeen wasn't wrong. Clawd's old car wasn't exactly luxurious, nor should it have been road legal. But Cleo understood that the car itself had been a hand down from their dad so she didn't really feel comfortable being honest about it's condition.

"I guess you could call it retro," She giggled trying not to sound stuck-up. "Besides I'm not interested in Clawd for his car, I like uh his umm"

"Definitely not those god awful mutton chops," Clawdeen howled.

"At least he can grow facial hair," Draculaura chuckled in her high pitch cadence.

The girls formed a three way line and strutted off towards the girls bathroom. They stood hogging the mirrors even through Draculaura couldn't see herself. Clawdeen would fix Draculaura's makeup and hair for her instead. The bathroom stalls were all empty but one. When Clawdeen checked underneath she couldn't see any feet touching the ground. She banged on the door as loud as she could.

"I don't think anyone's in there," She stated. "I gotta go to the library so I'll catch up with you guys in class,"

After Clawdeen abruptlyleft Draculaura and Cleo continued to apply their makeup and adjust their clothes. Cleo couldn't stop thinking about the note in her purse. It felt like it was burning a hole in her bag. She sighed deeply.

"Drac can I tell you something?" Cleo turned to her looking distressed.

"Oh my ghoul are you coming out to me?" She immediately jumped to.

"What!- No!" Cleo defended. "It's about Clawd and someone else.."

"A girl?" Draculaura continued.

Cleo stomped the ground with her heel. "No Draculaura a guy" she grunted. "I met up with a guy while I was in Greece, and he goes to school here, and I can't tell Clawdeen because she'll have my head on a spike"

Draculaura with her jaw hung open and eyes widely lit immediately grabbed Cleo's shoulders. "Cleo you naughty ghoul," she teased. "But wow poor Clawd,"

Cleo sighed once more but this time out of sympathy. "Yeah I know, he's a nice guy but we just don't click like me and this other guy did," Cleo screwed the note into a ball and threw it into the grey trash can. "I know I should break up with him, but Nefera told my dad that I was dating the basketball captain and he seemed so proud of me and-"

Draculaura grabbed Cleo tightly. "I get it, you're not the only person with an incredibly overbearing dad," Draculaura grabbed Cleo's hand. "C'mon let's ask Ghoulia, she always knows what to do,"

"She'll probably just tell me to do the right thing and tell them both the truth, she's no fun!" Cleo huffed as Drac dragged her out of the bathroom.

As the two exited the room a pair of purple boots lowered through the bottom space of the stall. It swung open with a thud against the wall and a gangly pale figure floated out. She had long purple hair that trailed further than her body length. Her eyes were wide and had no whites, only a misty purple glow to them. She giggled to herself as she realised the perfect crime was laid right infront of her. Gently picking the note out of the trash she saw the boys poor scrawl of a confession.

'Cleo De Nile the queen of being vile'

This was perfect. Finally someone had some real tangible evidence to strike Cleo from her throne. Cleo begging on her knees felt like the ultimate power move. She knew she had to make quick work of this. She promptlyfloated away into the ceiling, continuing to cackle as she did.

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Forging Ties - Chapter 30 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

No. This person couldn't be Nim because Nim was dead.

This guy was older than Nim... or...no, too young because time had passed. Too alive.

His hair was longer than Nim's had been and Nim hadn't ever had facial hair.

Sure, those things could change but no they couldn't because Nim was dead.

This was just someone else, like Yore, who looked like Nim.

Who looked exactly like Nim.

But this man who couldn't be Nim was looking back at Skye and he looked just as stunned as Skye felt.

Why would a stranger look at him like that?

The word escaped Skye's lips as barely more than a whisper.

"Nim?"

Long legs crossed the distance between them in an instant and then arms embraced Skye and he knew it was Nim.

He didn't know how but it was him and he felt real and warm and alive.

Skye wrapped his arms around him and clung.

He didn't know how this was happening but nobody was ever going to take Nim away from him again.

Eventually, Nim pulled back just far enough that he could look Skye in the eyes.

"How did you find me?"

"Ah," Slone said as he rounded the side of the cabin, Yore at his side.

They were both dressed in shorts and nothing else.

"Long story, that. Short of it is that I found him on the other side of the mountains."

"Fuck," Nim whispered. "I never thought..."

"Took me way longer than it should have to put the pieces together," Slone said. "You'd think the name and what he looks like would be enough but nah. I ain't heard the story since I was a kid and sometimes my brain just don't seem to put together what's right in front of me. Got there in the end, though. Guess that's what matters."

"What happened, Skye?" Nim asked. "Where have you been?"

Skye shrugged.

"I forgot most of it."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"I thought you died. I saw..."

Skye shook his head.

His eyes felt damp and his throat was tight.

"You were dead."

"I was," Nim said. "The Fae found me and brought me back."

"Oh," Skye said. "I should have just waited. Everything would have been okay if I'd just waited."

"No, it wouldn't have. It took days. You would have frozen to death if you'd stayed."

"Well, okay but I could have..."

Skye pressed his lips together and shook his head in frustration because he knew he couldn't have done anything but what he did.

He couldn't have seen what he saw and then held himself together long enough to find the others.

"You couldn't have done anything to change what happened, Skye," Nim said, his hands squeezing Skye's arms. "It's not your fault."

Skye nodded but he didn't feel any better.

They could have been together this whole time and everything would have been fine.

"How long have you been yourself? Aware, I mean?"

Skye shrugged.

"A year or two or something. I'm not good at time."

"I thought so," Nim said. "I've looked seventeen for over a hundred years but over the last couple of years, I've started to look a little older. We have a connection."

"So if I just forget, you get to live forever? You only get older if I do?"

"I don't want to live forever, Skye. I want to live the life I've been waiting for all of these years with you."

"You had to wait all this time just because I went the wrong way and forgot. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You see that young man?"

Nim pointed to Yore, and Skye nodded.

"That's my grandson. He's my daughter's son. I've missed you every single day but I wouldn't wish away the people I've brought into this world in the time we were apart. If things had gone differently back then, many things would be different now."

"Oh," Skye said. "Do you have a wife?"

"No, Skye," Nim said. "I'm still gay."

"Well that's very interesting because I know how babies are made, you know."

"Through artificial insemination, in this case."

"Hmm," Skye said. "I don't know what that means."

"It means I give them my sperm and they do the rest without me. It wasn't an intimate relationship. People thought that perhaps me being this un-aging immortal being would make my genetics more powerful but as it turns out they're just powerfully gay."

Skye twisted his lips together in contemplation as he nodded along.

"Is that why you have a beard now?"

"Huh?"

"Because you didn't kiss anyone to make the baby, so they couldn't tell you that it feels bad."

"I take it you don't approve of my facial hair, then?"

"Well..." Skye said. "No."

Nim laughed.

"I can shave. I was just trying not to look like a teenager anymore but it seems like you're the best cure for that."

"Hmm."

Skye hugged Nim's arm against his chest.

"You can have a beard if you want to. I just want you, no matter how bad your face feels against my skin."

"I haven't even kissed you yet. You don't know how it feels."

"No, Nim, you don't understand. Everyone used to have beards. It was the fashion and also maybe good razors didn't exist yet, I'm not sure. I know what beards feel like."

"I'll shave," Nim said as he rubbed the top of Skye's head. "Hey, do you know what happened to Aris?"

"Oh," Skye took a deep breath in.

"Okay, so I had the egg with me when I forgot and then I woke up and I was aware but I didn't remember anything and I didn't have the egg with me then but then I made some friends and one of them did have the egg with him but I didn't remember anything so I was just like, oh, cool, a big sparkly egg, right? And then also you know Rodney, the slime monster? Rodney was there, only everyone calls them Cookie now and it turns out they're full of ghosts. One of the ghosts helped me remember and I was like, oh no, I'm sad. And I was sad a lot. And then I remembered about the egg, so I threw it into a fire, only I didn't tell anybody first why I was doing it so the guy who had it got angry and shouted at me but then the egg hatched and he was like, oh, okay, this makes sense sort of. And... now he has a baby and that baby is Aris."

"Huh," Slone said.

He'd sat down in a swing that hung from a tree and was pushing himself back and forth.

"Y'know, he kinda did cover it all."

"I think I got the gist of it," Nim said. "Is your friend who has Aris here, in town?"

"Uhm..." Skye said. "Yes."

Nim sighed.

"I guess I'll have to go for a trip into town, then."

"Things are better than they were," Yore said. "I know you've felt like there's no place for you for a long time, and I understand why but I think your perspective and your influence right now would be valuable. Skye's too. Werewolves have become too insular. We could do with a reminder that we didn't used to be so insistent on keeping to our own kind."

"Well, I'm going to let Skye decide," Nim said, a little bit of venom creeping into his tone. "I'm not going to put up with him being treated badly. If everyone treats him well enough that he wants to keep going back into town, we'll go. We'll go every day if he wants to."

"I did make some friends," Skye said. "We'll go into town and you can meet my friends."

"I bet they're gonna be so excited for you," Slone said. "Like he said in his story about Aris, he really did only just remember. Everyone's been real sad for him 'cause he was upset about it but we didn't really know what to do."

"I didn't know what to do," Skye said. "I'm glad you just weren't actually dead. Just waiting to stop feeling sad wasn't working. I probably would have had to run off and live in the forest because feeling sad is hard and I don't like doing hard things."

"Well, now you can live in the forest but in a cabin, with me," Nim said.

"I like that way better."

"How about I show you around?"

"Okay."

"Have any of you eaten yet?" Nim asked. "I could make some breakfast, too."

"You show him around and I'll fry some eggs for breakfast," Yore offered. "I know where everything is."

"Okay but don't let Skye's size fool you," Nim said. "He can eat as much as any of us."

"After this, you're gonna hafta come into town," Slone said. "You'll be out of food by the time we're all fed."

"Food is what I sell, not what I buy," Nim said. "We'll be fine on that. I'll go, though. Skye wants me to meet his friends, so... I'll go."

[demispark]

Okay I finished episode 14 and have some thoughts

I guess this will be spoilers so I'll drop a readmore

- Opening on the beautiful bro hug between Laios, Senshi, and Chilchuck while Marcille looks dead in the foreground is fucking hilarious I did not think the episode would pick up right there

- Damn Kabru really is just as fucked up as Laios just in completely different ways

- Obsessed with how his eyes look when he's fucking murdering people lol there is something wrong with him

- Mildly infuriating that Kabru's party still think the Touden party are criminals but whatevs

- The politics of this world are fascinating, which you know is good because I hate politics. Like it's fine if they exist in the worldbuilding but on the whole it's a pretty lame and frustrating thing to focus on. Ryoko Kui once again proving how amazing they are because even I care about the political workings of this world!

- Speaking of which the casual racism in this show is almost funny at times. How can you say "the guild wouldn't be happy if they knew I hired this guy" with a straight face

- Dense Kabru fr. Pays attention to literally everything about everyone but doesn't quite grasp how abruptly kissing his party member while in the form of a fish man might be off-putting

- Speaking of which Kabru knowing basically everything about the Touden's but still thinking they're criminals feels weird but he also doesn't strike me as very trusting so that's probably why

- Oh hey Nemari and Co. (Sorry I forgot the gnome guy's name-) I've cooled off on my grudge against her so it's good to see them again :)

- Crazy that Kabru was like "alright this'll be easy just gotta hit the carotid artery" without even knowing if sea serpents have those.

- Admittedly I know some (what I consider to be) small spoilers, but I am not happy to see Shuro again. Abandoned Falin's party to look for her as if that makes any sense at all

- Anyway more importantly Shuro's new party looks super cool! Love the oni girl sm, her name was Tade I think? She picked up the serpent's head and suggested it'll be yummy, she'll fit right in around here! And by here I mean whenever she meets Laios and Senshi, everyone else is boring and doesn't wanna cook -_-

- Also Shuro looks like a complete wreck which is kinda funny. Got that "not taking care of myself" type of facial hair

- Anyway back at the plot Laios and Co. are lost and starving. Can't wait to see them eat bricks next episode <3

- I'm liking the new ending too. This one doesn't feel like it'll punch me in the gut after an intense cliffhanger like the last one did :3

- Bunch of great shots in the ending too

- Oh yeah Leed was there! That was the cool orc girl's name right? Love her to death just haven't heard her name enough to commit it to memory

I know I forgot new episodes come out on Thursday, but WHY didn't anyone tell me about the new opening? It's so cute!!!

[xoryugujixo]

“𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈?“

𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩!𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

cw: facefucking, use of a vibrator, facial, degradation, slight hair pulling, barley implied chubby reader, slight bimbo reader

masterlist

as always kaminari was sitting in front of his PC and you laying on his bed watching his finger furiously working the keyboard, with the LEDs radiating against his milky skin. and of course, they were displaying the color pink because as soon as you walked inside his small slightly messy room it was the first thing you commented on.

laying on his bed was getting more and more bored by the second. especially when you were promised a good time upon arrival.

“kami, it's s’boringgg, can we do something, please?”

“yeah just a sec babe,” releasing a long whine as this was the third time he’s said this. assuming denki is no long even listening to your words anymore and just letting out an automated response whenever his ears pick up your voice. so instead of sitting on his bed for the rest of your visit, you walk over to him to see what has him so invested on the screen.

wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing your head on top of his. “what game even is this kami?” in this position, he was unable to answer as his mind went blank. maybe it was because kaminari could feel your warm plush tummy pushed against his back or how he felt the steadiness of your breathing.

“umm, i-it’s something new y’know,” he stuttered out with flushed cheeks and a small smile. but you were too distracted by his discord chat to notice the red renting his ears.

“what does glazed mean kami?” you asked squinting your eyes to see the continues messages pop up. kaminari wasn’t able to comprehend what had just left you in a pouted lip confusion.

flexseal💪💯: get glazed bitch 💀

a true loss for words, kaminari had no idea what to say. he knew you weren’t really into gaming that much so he doesn’t blame you for not knowing some terms.

“kami are you okay? i’m sorry if i did something wrong.”

he was starting to lose it. denki always had a thing for your innocence in these type of situations, even though you both were far from it.

“no i promise you haven’t! it’s j-just.. you re-remember last night right?”

you were left stumped for a second trying to figure out what you boyfriend was referring to, then it hit you like a truck.

================★=================

“fuck baby, you always take me so good.”

this sentence always went straight down to your pulsating sex, influencing more clear nectar to spill its way out onto the vibrator underneath you. especially when his swollen cock was stuffed in your throat.

“why dont you look up with those big brain-dead eyes babe." doing as told, looking up at denki as best as you could even as he rammed you throat.

"and keep moving those fucking hips bitch. dont think i didn't notice you stopped."

even if it was agonizing you listened as always, because with this view who would complain. denki's thighs were spread, sweat glistening on his torso and chest, and his head thrown back with loud whimpers escaping.

he slowly brought up a hand to the back of you head to get a firm grasp on your hair releasing a breathy string of curses.

“shit, i don’t know if im gonna last," the whines that left his mouth only made you only rut harder against the vibrator.

“f-fuck y/n!”

expecting the usual warm salty nectar to spill into your mouth instead you feel something land on the center of your forehead and cheeks. being startled when it starts to drip down restricting your vision.

“oh! sorry babe give me one sec!”

================★=================

“nope, i kinda forgot. can you show me?”

[writerlyhabits]

The Office Christmas Party

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 8.6k

Summary: Your co-worker makes a snide comment about your relationship status, and Bucky is having none of it. But he might be just a little too eager to volunteer to be your fake boyfriend for the office Christmas party in order to prove her wrong. (Written for this request)

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ only. Swearing, so many pet names, soft passionate sex cause Bucky is just a sweetheart, reader is intrigued by his facial hair, oral (male and female receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (be careful everyone, lets be responsible), a hint of a praise kink cause I can’t help myself, they laugh during sex I think it’s cute sue me, I can’t think of anything else but please let me know if I forgot something!

AN: I… I want one, that’s all I have to say for myself. I did this with neighbor Bucky after tfatws because that’s my go-to 😂 This has no tie to my Neighbors series, I just am a sucker for neighbor!Bucky. I think it makes for an easy, logical meet-cute of sorts with the reader 🤷‍♀️ Thanks as always to @deceiverofgodss for being there to help with this late night booty call fic when I was stuck 💖

“This okay?” You looked up from the kitchen counter as you were organizing your necessities into a small clutch purse to find Bucky stepping into your apartment, clad in an all-black suit, the top couple buttons on his shirt undone and two different ties in his hand. The suit fit him well, his arms filling out the sleeves very nicely, and the leather lapels on the blazer made for quite an appealing contrast. He’d let his hair get a little bit longer after everything had gone down with the flag smashers, and he swept it back nicely, his incoming beard trimmed and neat. You didn’t try to hide the way your eyes raked over his whole figure, admiring everything he had on display.

“Holy shit James.” He looked like something out of a dream. You had to physically turn away from him to avoid revealing yourself when a waft of his cologne hit you, and it was divine. “I have to go change my dress.”

“What? Why? You look good,” he called after you, but you were already shutting your bedroom door behind you, quick to yank the cocktail dress from your body.

“If you’re going to look like that, I have to up my game. Otherwise, none of this will matter,” you shouted back, frantically searching through your closet to find something that looked compatible with the eye candy in your living room. Tonight was going to be a little trickier than you thought.

You’d come home from work one afternoon, fuming at your coworker’s audacity, and Bucky had been quick to notice.

“She gets a boyfriend, and all of a sudden the only thing she thinks needs prioritizing are the couples events at the office Christmas party,” you explained as he sat across from you, happy to listen. “I was already dreading going, but now that I’ll be stuck in the corner by myself the whole night makes it super tempting.”

“Oh come on, watching a bunch of other couples rub it in your face doesn’t sound fun?” He’d laughed, and you could tell he was trying to lift your mood as best he could. “This is Cathy, isn’t it? The one who fucked up the last office party?”

“Yeah, cause nobody tells her no. And when I tried to, and she immediately made a snide comment about how of course the singles don’t understand,” you mocked, and Bucky’s demeanor straightened a bit. “And I have no leg to stand on with that one, but I just wish I could stick it to her, prove her wrong.”

“So do it,” he offered, a half-whisper accompanied by a mischievous grin. “Who’s to say you don’t have a boyfriend?” You simply cocked an eyebrow at him, because he knew that answer. “She doesn’t get to say shit like that to you. Come on, take your very attractive boyfriend from next door, we’ll prove her wrong.”

“Are you volunteering to be my fake boyfriend for an office Christmas party?”

“It’ll be more fun with me and you know it. Cause trouble, show her up… We’re gonna knock it out of the park, let’s do it.”

Now that you were actually facing him the night of the party, having stepped out of your bedroom in a tighter, darker colored dress… you weren’t so confident you could handle it. Watching his eyes travel from your heels up your body before meeting your gaze with a warm smile made you want to run your hands through his styled hair.

“How’s this one?” you asked, acting like you didn’t watch his reaction.

“You look great, doll,” he sighed, unable to stop himself from taking another look. “I- you look really great.” This time he let out a nervous laugh as his gaze turned back to the ties still in his hands. Tossing one on the counter, he started to wrap the one in the same shade as your dress around his neck. “This one it is.”

-

“Okay, let’s run through the story one more time,” Bucky started, turning towards you in the passenger seat as you made your way to the party. “We’ve been dating for three months-”

“Four months,” you interjected. “That’s when we went to the Smithsonian.”

“That was four months ago? Already?” You laughed as you watched him furrow his brows, thinking back on the day he’d taken you to see the Captain America exhibit, not knowing how else to tell you after too many weeks of awkward interactions that left something to be desired. “Alright, four months ago, I asked you out to the Smithsonian.”

“We got dinner on the way back, I invited you in, and the rest is history,” you finished, the story only slightly inaccurate. You picked up a pizza on the way back, and invited him in to keep talking about… well, him, and what all that entailed. You both thought it best to keep it as close to the truth as possible, making it easier to remember and to keep the details accurate.

“There’s one more thing we haven’t talked about,” Bucky piped up after a moment, shifting in his seat a little nervously. You hummed, tilting your head in his direction to acknowledge him. “What are we doing about mistletoe? You know it’s going to be everywhere.”

“I- it’s a work party.”

“Yeah, with friends and partners and spouses; and Cathy, who’s probably eager to suck face in front of everyone. There’s gonna be mistletoe” he elaborated, and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh at his reasoning. He looked at you and you caught him biting his lip out of the corner of your eye, playing with the hair under his lip, a habit he’d picked up as he let it get longer. After a moment, he continued. “I don’t want to cross a line, so if that’s not something you want to do, that’s okay. But we’ll need an excuse for it now so it doesn’t look weird should the time come.”

If that’s not something you want to do…. meaning that he- No, you had to stop yourself from looking into the details. Bucky was a friend willing to help you out, that’s it. But all the same, he was putting something out on the table you’d thought about for a long time, and it was possibly the most tempting thing you knew you shouldn’t accept.

“I’m okay with that. Maybe even without mistletoe.” What were you saying? “I mean, if’s it’s going to make it feel more real, you know what I mean?” You tried finishing with a shrug, to make it seem like your heart wasn’t pounding against your chest.

“Yeah, okay,” he said softly, nodding with a hint of a smile on his lips. “When… what’s the boundary? When is an okay time to do it?” Of course Bucky was being a perfect gentleman, needing to know when he was allowed to kiss you when just the thought of it was rendering you a mess.

“Just, whenever feels natural,” you replied, glancing over at him, waiting for some kind of response or reaction. “If that’s okay with you?”

“I- yeah. Natural… I can do that.” He licked his lips as he kept smiling at you, and you quickly turned your attention back to the road before you got yourself in any more trouble than you already had. This was going to be a long night…

-

A burst of hellos erupted as you and Bucky walked into the party on your department’s floor, his gloved hand laced in yours as you walked in practically shoulder to shoulder. You raised the hand that held your purse in a brief wave, navigating yourselves further into the room. After making it through the crowd to find your cubicle, locking away the things you didn’t want to carry all night due to your dress’s only downfall – a lack of pockets – the two of you jumped headfirst into the center of the room, ready to begin the night.

Your floor of the office building was beautifully decorated, strands of tinsel and garland wrapped around the columns and cubicle walls, string lights everywhere gave the room a warm feeling, and there was a larger than necessary Christmas tree in the corner, visible to the entire city through the large windows that lined the walls. Cathy might have been horrible at the games and entertainment for these things, but she knew how to decorate.

“I didn’t realize your office was so fancy,” Bucky poked as he took a look around.

“It’s easy to look over when I’m banging my head against the desk doing my paperwork.” He let out a deep belly laugh at your comment, his hand easily slipping to the small of your back.

“There you are! And this must be the elusive boyfriend,” a voice called, shattering your fun as you turned to find a woman with a disgustingly large fake smile on her face. “You didn’t tell us he was so handsome.”

“Cathy,” you smiled unenthusiastically, already tired of the interaction. Bucky, however, was quick to respond, his left hand slinking around your waist and pulling you in closer as he reached his other out to shake her hand.

“I’m James, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he smiled, and only you could see through his expression to know his shit-eating grin from his genuine one.

“How funny, I can’t say the same about you?” She quipped, cocking her head to the side, not even trying to hide her intentions at this point.

“I’m not surprised, my babygirl likes to keep things private.” He promptly placed a kiss on your temple, looking down at you with too much adoration in his eyes to be allowed. The nickname made your knees weak, and you wanted to do whatever it took to have him call you that again. “But I have heard a lot about your guy, I feel like I already know him. Is he tagging along soon?”

“He um… well, he actually had other plans tonight,” she admitted, quickly losing her steam. Your brows shot up, and you made an effort to turn them to ones of concern, fighting hard to keep the corners of your lips from turning up.

“That’s a shame, he’s going to miss out on all the fun couples activities I’ve heard you have planned.”

“Who are you going to partner up with on those? Can’t have you sitting out during your own party,” you asked, hoping desperately that the tone of your voice sounded at least a little sympathetic.

“We’ll… see what happens.” She gave you a pained smile as she glanced down at her hands. You were about to dismiss yourselves and save her from anymore tormenting when Bucky opened his mouth.

“I guess I’ll just have to meet him at the next one then?” You watched in delight as she gave the two of you a tight-lipped smile and the smallest nod you’d ever seen, before moving to pester another of your coworkers. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you turned to tuck yourself into Bucky’s chest and started giggling uncontrollably. “You could have looked a little less amused,” he teased.

“We didn’t even have to do anything, she’s already falling apart,” you said in a hushed tone as you looked up at him, wrapping your arms around his middle to mirror his hold on you, his hands running up and down your back softly.

“Alright, we don’t know if they’re having problems, or if they’re even together still, that’s not nice to joke about,” he deadpanned, and for a second you almost took him seriously. “It’s going to be hard enough when she finds out how much her games suck cause she can’t play ‘em,” he laughed, trying not to but failing miserably.

“You were right, this is fun,” you smiled after the two of you had gotten over your giggles. You couldn’t help but lean into him, your hands sliding up to his chest, going to smooth out his lapels to make an excuse for it. You looked back up to find him watching you, and you smiled softly. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Anytime, baby,” he said sweetly, his hands coming to still at the small of your back. He gave you a smirk before one of his hands came to your hip, the other giving a light tap just under your waist…. as if he’d planned it for somewhere else and changed his mind. “Come on, I think you said there were snacks, and I plan to clean them out.”

-

You and Bucky were naturals. Which should have been very telling, but you did your best not to think about it in the moment. For a man who preferred keeping to himself, coming over to have you alone as company with a movie or even just to read his book, he had become the life of the party. He talked and joked with your coworkers like they were old friends, and seemed to have you down to a ‘T’ as he improvised surprisingly accurate aspects of your “relationship.”

The two of you continued to banter like you always did, but there was a different kind of intimacy to it when he would wrap himself around you to relate your change of outfit for the evening.

“She did too! She put herself together so nicely, she looked beautiful, and then second-guessed herself at the last second,” Bucky had started when your co-worker’s husband had talked about her current look being outfit number four. You rolled your eyes.

“You dressed yourself far better than I was going to, I would’ve looked out of place.” He shifted you in his arms so that he could look down to catch your gaze, your soft glare being met with his warm smile.

“You would make a floursack look good, sweetheart. But then you walked out in this dress…” he paused to close his eyes and bunch his eyebrows together, humming in exaggerated approval, earning a couple of chuckles from the rest of the group. He looked back down at you with those blue eyes that held too much emotion for his own good, taking in your features before he continued. “I would have waited through your entire closet three times over if it meant you felt as pretty as you are.”

His words made you glad he was holding you upright, giving you the perfect opportunity to lean into him and smile bashfully as he landed a kiss on your cheek. And it filled you with a strange sense of pride to watch the other man reconsider his comment, holding his wife a little tighter, evident on his face that he was taking notes.

Now the two of you were sitting back at your desk, observing everything over the short walls, and purposefully avoiding the horrible couples games being played. He was sitting against your desk, his legs spread far enough apart for you to take your spot between them. You had one arm crossed over your chest with a drink in the other as you leaned against him, one of his hands on your waist while the two of you made fun of people together.

“I enjoyed talking to Megan, I really did… but is the Christmas sweater really necessary?” He asked, making you giggle as you both watched her from afar. “She kept putting her hands above her head to make the tree, and wouldn’t stop complaining about the different pieces… Watch, she’s going to do it again.” Sure enough, you watched her grab the star and make herself into a tree, reducing the two of you to laughter.

“You two lovebirds don’t want to join in on the fun?” Cathy asked as she maneuvered her way through the rows of cubicles, having to make a point to come and talk to you. Which was exactly why you sat where you did. “We’re about to start the ornament relay!” Bucky looked to you with his shit-eating grin, so graciously allowing you to take the lead on this one.

“Oh, that one sounds like it’ll be entertaining to watch,” you smiled, reaching your free hand out to rest on Bucky’s thigh, catching his attention. “We’re pretty comfortable over here though.” Cathy opened her mouth to rebuttal, but your partner in crime was quick on his toes.

“I’m sure you know how it is, sometimes it’s nice to just sit off to the side with your person and enjoy their company,” he said sweetly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “That’s why I was kind of surprised to hear you’d planned couples games. I feel like these kinds of events do better with games for everyone, have a little co-worker competition.” Oh, he was wonderful.

“That’s what I was going to say in the meeting last week!” You refrained from adding ‘before I was so rudely cut-off,’ but you had to keep your cool and at least act like you were the bigger person. “Even James and I, I mean we have fun working together for those kinds of games, but-”

“But it’s so much more fun when I win,” he snarked, earning a light smack to his chest that made him snicker, his arms circling around you to pull you in close enough so he could rest his chin on your shoulder.

“You make a fair point,” Cathy admitted, attempting to laugh with the two of you. “I’ll keep that in mind for the next one.” She continued making her way past you, quick to dismiss herself before your menace of a companion could torture her any longer, looking to find her next victim.

“You think she’s jealous?” you asked after a second. You feel him lift his chin off your shoulder to place a kiss on the bare skin there, sitting up straighter to allow you to lean back into his chest. He hums in question, and you feel it rumble through his chest. “Cathy… I mean, I show up with this perfect, sweet, handsome boyfriend… I think I’d be jealous, too..”

You didn’t realize what you’d said until he was leaning in close to your ear, the hair on his face tickling the skin there and making you shiver. “Then it’s a good thing I’m yours,” he whispered, and he had you preening in his hands. Oh, this was a bad idea… it was a wonderfully bad idea.

“I hope I’m not interrupting a private moment,” your head snapped in the direction of the voice, and you saw Bucky falter a second out of the corner of your eye.

“Is my desk the place to be tonight? First Cathy, now you… what’s it take to get a moment with my man?” you teased as your coworker approached, setting your drink on the other side of your desk.

“Trust me, I come bearing gifts,” she assured. Before you could ask what she meant, she turned her attention to the super-soldier still wrapped around you. “Sorry, I’m Judy. Your girl is the reason I stay sane.”

“James,” he smiled, giving her a friendly nod vice a handshake, not willing to move from his position despite the company. “It’s nice to put a face to the name.”

With the quick introduction out of the way, Judy wasted no time in telling you about all the gossip she had gathered through the night, and the dots she was starting to connect. That was what she thrived on; she liked working in an office less so for the work, but for the social environment it provided. More specifically, the interesting plot developments in the lives of her coworkers, for better or worse.

“Megan told me she finally called that guy, which will be really great for her. But, Rob was there when she told me- Yes, I know! It was good for him to hear though, cause I heard he’s been playing the worst breakup playlist you could ever imagine, man needed an update.”

As you listened mindlessly, entertained more by your co-worker’s investment than the actual details themselves, gloved fingers were tracing soft circles to your sides. He would press his lips back against your shoulder every couple of moments, like he was breathing in the essence of you before he would face Judy again, at least pretending to care. It was nice… gave you a reason to almost wish she would keep going so that you could enjoy the intimacy of the moment with him a little longer.

“Alright alright, I’m done for now, I know I’m boring your man to sleep,” she teased after a while, and Bucky tried to make an apologetic excuse. And while you knew Bucky Barnes was not a man to be driven to sleep so easily, you did know he didn’t care for this kind of small talk and encouraged the change of subject.

“I’ve got to be honest with you, when you told me about this secret boyfriend, I expected him to be a bit more on the scruffy side,” she explained, catching you off guard.

“Well, it’s a little longer than she usually likes it,” Bucky started, taking one hand and playing with the hair on his face. “Thought I’d experiment, see how I like it a bit longer… It’s kind of growing on me,” he finished, turning back to you for approval.

“Mmmm, I’ll let you keep it for a little bit longer. We’ll see how I feel after that,” you played. You were met with a very enthusiastic kiss on your cheek, making you giggle as he made a point to push his facial hair into your cheek.

“As long as you don’t make him shave all of it off… you and I both know facial hair feels so much better down there,” Judy said with a mischievous grin. Both you and Bucky snapped to look at her, and you just about choked on your own spit.

“Judy,” you started incredulously, trying to save yourself by laughing it off. “We’re not talking about this stuff at the office! You’re a menace, go bother someone else.” All she could do was laugh at you, which gave Bucky time to recover as you felt him settle back around you.

“I’m just saying…” She shrugged, side-stepping past to leave you two in peace. She gave Bucky a knowing look, holding it there for a second before you watched her face shift into a sly smile. Oh no… “Alright, don’t have too much fun without me.” She gave you a little wave and left the two of you alone once again.

“What did you do?” you whispered harshly as soon as she was out of earshot, turning your body towards him a little more to shoot him a look. He gave you a pleading expression in response.

“I didn’t know if you guys talked about that stuff, and she looked at me like she was expecting an answer… so I winked,” he rambled quietly, nothing but apologetic. “I figured she could interpret it as whatever the right answer was, and be on her way without suspicion.” Judy had thrown him off his rhythm, she usually had that kind of effect on people. You could feel your lips start to come up in a small smile at his quick thinking, despite being in a panic.

“Alright, I’ll give you that one. You’re forgiven,” you teased, trying to get him to relax again. “For the record, we don’t talk about it. So I have no idea what that wink told her.”

“I guess you’re gonna find out,” he giggled. You rolled your eyes as you joined him, muscular arms pulling you back into him.

It was annoying how nice it felt to be held by him all night because you knew at some point it was going to have to end. You would have to leave the party at the end of the night, and go back home as friends, nothing more. And after getting to see this side of him, being on the receiving end of the adoring boyfriend inside of him, you weren’t sure how you would be able to manage. You were already yearning for the man holding you to actually be yours, but all you could do was enjoy him before things changed.

“As your boyfriend, I feel like I should ask. You know, in case we run into it again…” He pulled you out of your thoughts, and you glanced back in his direction with a raised brow prompting him to continue. “Do you like facial hair?” The way he asked the question sent heat directly to your core, his voice deep and husky as his eyes finally met yours, and you realized his question was not as innocent as it sounded.

“I- Well, it’s-” you cut yourself off with a nervous giggle, and you knew he was watching you bounce between his eyes and his jaw, his expression patient and ready to listen. You took a breath to compose yourself a little before continuing. “Okay… there are some men who look good both ways, clean-shaven or with facial hair. Other men look better with it…” He made a noise of approval, and you gave an exasperated sigh. Cocky fucker knew where he landed. “I have had the unfortunate luck of being with men who are better off without it.”

“Mmm, that is unfortunate,” he chuckled softly, a mischievous glimmer in his eye. You had to look away from him before your thoughts betrayed you, already unable to stop the shiver that ran through your body, his left hand moving to rub your back in response. “Have you ever thought about it? Being with someone a little… scruffier?”

Oh god, have you. You enjoyed his company, wouldn’t trade it for anything. But sometimes you wondered whether he was trying to kill you, or if he genuinely didn’t know that he had a body crafted by the gods. Walking around your apartment in tight shirts, his dog tags and vibranium arm on full display. Or sitting on your couch with his legs spread wide, his thighs as tempting a place to sit as ever. And when he licked his lips or played with the hair on his face… who wouldn’t wonder what it would be like to have James Barnes between their legs?

You saw out of your peripherals that you were being watched, Cathy’s eyes drawn to the large man beside you. Bucky must have seen her as well, placing another kiss on your shoulder before leaning away from you. Was he… shying away from the conversation he started? After asking you such an intimate question? You know you should leave it, ignore the urge to give him a taste of his own medicine, you should behave.

You turned to face him, and his hands were quick to rest on your hips as you pressed yourself up against his chest, catching his blue eyes darken as he watched you. Hands slid up his chest, not bothering to pretend with his lapels this time as they kept traveling up the sides of his neck until reaching the prize. You scratched at the thick hair on his cheeks, a devilish smirk growing no matter how hard he tried to keep a straight face.

“I have, I’ve thought about it quite a bit,” you answered quietly, giving him a moment to take it all in. “I think….I think it’s hot.”

You watched in delight as he clenched his jaw with a hard swallow, blinking a few times before taking a quick glance around the room. His eyes locked on yours for half a second before he tilted his head to attach himself where your neck met your jaw, his scruff tickling deliciously against your skin. You managed to mask your sharp gasp with a laugh, arms wrapping around his neck as he kissed yours.

“Someone’s gonna look, James,” you whispered harshly through your laughter, and his own vibrated through your neck.

“And they’ll look away if they know what’s good for ‘em,” he mumbled, and you felt like you had to be dreaming as he continued planting kisses across your sensitive skin. You couldn’t hold yourself back from carding your hands through the thick hair on the back of his head, and the sigh he released was what brought his lips away from you. He leaned back to look at you for a moment before he spoke up again; “Is there anything else keeping you here?”

“How do you mean?” You furrowed your brows slightly, confused by the sudden change of subject.

“I mean, is there anything else you want to do here,” he paused to think about his words, hands caressing your sides. “Or can I take you home?”

Only a few moments later you’d made your way to a group of your co-workers, saying a final goodbye as you escaped. Bucky was eager to leave, actively leading you to the door as he was making his excuse; “It’s almost Christmas, I’ve got to get her to myself for at least part of the night.” A few steps later and you received a chorus of cheers. Of course.

“And we’ll send you off with a proper mistletoe kiss!”

You would think that him having just made out with your neck would have prepared you for this moment, the one you’d been bracing yourself for all evening, but you couldn’t be more wrong. The soft expression on his face rendered you breathless as he cupped your face in his hands, his lips molding to yours too well to make sense. You couldn’t hear the whoops and hollers, all you could focus on was how good it felt to have his lips on yours, and how badly you wanted to get him out of the office.

The ride home wasn’t any better. At first, neither of you quite knew what to do. This was supposed to be the end of the arrangement; the party was over, Cathy had been proven wrong, everything would go back to normal. But what normal was had been disrupted when the two of you kept up the act when no one was looking, when you were all over each other specifically because nobody was paying you any mind.

He’d insisted on driving home, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him as the night lights of the city illuminated his features, his now bare left hand keeping an easy grip on the wheel while the other rested on the console. Neither of you said anything, sitting in a somehow comfortable silence despite the uncertainty of it. He would look over and catch your gaze every now and then, giving you a warm smile before turning back to the road.

Until you hit a red light. The car had stopped and Bucky’s tongue traced his lips as he looked at you again, his hand moving from the console to rest on your thigh. When he leaned closer you found yourself doing the same, his hand leaving the wheel to tangle in your hair and bring your lips to his once again.

Sensing the color change inside the car, Bucky released you to continue driving before upsetting traffic, his right hand giving your thigh a small squeeze.

“Whenever feels natural… right?” He asked, echoing your words back to you with a grin.

-

He held you the entire trek up to your floor, his hand resting easy around your waist or on the small of your back when it was more convenient. And it was only once you’d made it to your front door that he removed his hand. You missed it.

“You wanna come in for a sec?” You asked after a moment, playing coy. His hands went back to your body as you unlocked the door to let him in behind you, setting your purse to the side as he shed his blazer. One more look at each other and you felt something snap.

Bucky grabbed you by your waist, pulling you back into him, encouraging your arms to touch him. You avoided his gaze, knowing you’d be gone within seconds, opting to fiddle and tug on the tie around his neck to bring him down closer to you.

“Let me show you what it’s like,” he practically groaned as his nose touched yours, resting foreheads together. “Please doll, I want to devour you.” You were too drunk on him to be embarrassed by the noise he elicited from you.

“Show me,” you nearly whined, yanking him down to crash your lips back into his. This time it was all tongue and teeth, wildly different from the first couple he’d stolen through the night. It was passionate, needy, desperate to taste each other, to be as close as you possibly could.

Holding each other was suddenly not enough, you wanted to be enveloped by him, needed his body like it was part of your own. Your arms found their place around his neck, hands deciding between roaming his broad back and ruining his hair while his explored every part of you he could reach, holding you steady against him. Bucky lifted you up into his arms and you wrapped your legs around him, cupping his face to continue your assault on his soft lip as he carried you through to the bedroom of your apartment.

You were abruptly deposited on the bed, his lips traveling down to nip at your neck before lifting off of you almost entirely, hands lifting your leg to place a kiss on the inside of your knee. His hands left goosebumps on your skin as he took his time trailing them down to your ankles, undoing the strap on your heels with the utmost care.

“I need to taste you, sweetheart,” he pleaded, glancing up at you when he pulled the shoe off of you delicately, moving to the other. “Want you to feel the scratch of my beard against these pretty thighs.” This time you got a kiss on the inside of your other knee, and you were going crazy with anticipation, a puddle of arousal already waiting for him.

The duality of his hands as they began to glide up your legs was delightful, one crisp and cool while the other was warm and calloused. He caressed right up to the place where you wanted him most before he continued pushing the hem of your dress past your hips, and you couldn’t decide whether you were disappointed with his neglect or enamored by his hands cupped over your bra. He made quick work of the tight dress, carefully tossing it to the side and moving to unhook your bra.

“James…” You moaned his name when his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, his hand massaging the other breast with the occasional pinch to balance his attention. His hot tongue flicked against the nipple in his mouth, the tickle of his facial hair absolutely delightful on the soft skin there, switching his ministrations between the two as he pleased.

“Bucky, please, I need you,” you whimpered, longing for his mouth somewhere else.

“I know babygirl, I’m on my way. Let me adore the rest of you for a second,” he murmured into your skin, sending a shiver through you, which made him smile against your skin. He placed a kiss to your sternum before he trailed down your stomach, and left the softest of kisses to your navel before hooking his fingers into your last piece of clothing.

You barely had time to process that you were now fully naked and vulnerable before him, his breath fanning across your dripping folds almost as soon as the fabric had slid down your legs. Bucky readjusted himself so that his muscular arms were wrapped under your thighs, holding your legs comfortably open for him.

“Good god, your perfect pussy is already soaked for me.” His praise had you gripping the sheets with a vice, your hips bucking of their own accord to seek some sort of relief. He chuckled at your reaction.

“Then hurry up and do something about it,” you smiled, pleased with the growl you pulled from him as you ran your fingers through his hair, nails scratching gently against his scalp.

“Yes ma’am.” He’d barely finished speaking before his tongue was on you, flat against your folds as he started licking up all the excess you’d dripped for him. “Taste so sweet, peach, I knew you would,” he praised, and you arched your back as he dove back in to pay special attention to your clit, his facial hair scratching the inside of your thighs.

It was bliss… you couldn’t think of a time you’d felt better having a man eat you out. If you were being honest, you couldn’t think of a time another man had made you feel this good at all. Bucky had you gripping his hair tight as your hips bucked against him, chasing the feeling of his talented mouth as he sucked on your bundle of nerves.

You whined when he lifted off your clit, earning a chuckle at your reaction. “No, please, I’m almost there.”

“I know, baby, that’s why I’m doing something else,” he smiled, shifting his grip on you slightly before he lowered himself back down to your pulsing core. It was like he nuzzled himself into you, his nose brushing against your clit as he pressed a kiss to your glistening lips. “Gonna drink up everything you’ll give me.”

He settled himself to slip his tongue inside you, pressing into you as close as he could get, and you gasped sharply with the wonderful intrusion. Your legs jerked up around him, your heels digging into the muscles of his back and he groaned into you, the vibrations making you shudder. Bucky’s hands massaged the top of your thighs as he lapped at you, his scruff rubbing against you as his jaw worked to devour you. His hands then gripped the underside of your thighs, stretching them back and opening you up just a little more.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you moaned, your body filling with a familiar sense of anticipation, and he responded by burying himself farther into you, his nose making you jolt as it brushed against your clit every now and then with his aggressive motions. “You’re gonna make me snap, baby.”

The noise he made sounded like a whine and it went directly through your desperate pussy. As you carded your hands through his absolutely ruined hair, you caught him grinding his hips against your bed, seeking some sort of friction himself. He was enjoying this just as much as you were… just the thought of it was delectable.

And you couldn’t help but egg him on.

“Your tongue feels- mmmm… so good inside me, honey. I, I’m- ahh, I’m gonna get that handsome face all wet.” Your words seemed to fuel whatever was going on in his head; he groaned desperately into you as his hands tightened their grip on your thighs, and you found yourself wondering if there would be evidence of it in the morning. He stopped his ministrations now that he was holding you steady, only pausing for half a second before he began to shake his head, buried into your pussy.

There was a cry stuck in your throat as your hips shook violently against him, his nose tickling your clit and his beard attacking the soft skin he could reach with it. There was no warning him before a wave of warmth spread through your body, the combinations of both of your moans and noises mixing in the air like a song as he continued to work you through your orgasm.

It took you pulling him off of your throbbing center with broken pleas, begging for a reprieve before you got overstimulated. You looked down at him between your legs, smiling at the drunk look on his face matched with a cocky grin.

“How’d that feel, doll?” he asked as he crawled up your body, and you hummed enthusiastically as you reached for him. “I take it you like ‘em scruffy?”

“Mhmm, I like you scruffy,” you replied as you dragged his lips to yours, not caring about the taste of yourself on his lips, wanting just to feel him around you. “You’ve already ruined me for anything else, I hope you’re happy,” you teased in between kisses, and you couldn’t help but smile as he giggled into you.

“More than happy, I’d eat your pussy until the day I die.” You laughed as you arched back at his words, exposing your neck to allow a barrage of scratchy kisses there. You were already getting worked up again as he attacked your neck, but your walls weren’t ready for more just yet…

“Let me suck your cock…” you sighed, and you felt his head snap up at you.

“What?” he asked with a breathless laugh, sounding like he hadn’t quite committed to it. You closed your eyes and tucked into him a little bashfully, but had no intention of backing down from your request. He supported himself up on one arm while he used the other to cup your face gently, saying your name as he made you look back up at him. You opened your eyes to find his shining blue ones looking down at you so sweetly. “Sweetheart, I appreciate it, but you don’t have-”

“James.” You cut him off, voice steady and demanding. Your hands reached the tie that was still around his neck, realizing he was still fully clothed, and you found it wildly unfair. You began to untie it as you spoke, making an attempt to fix the problem. “I need a little bit of a break before I’m ready to have you properly fuck me tonight, and oh god do I want it.”

You threw his tie to the side as you leaned up to kiss his neck, feeling him swallow hard. His strong hands supported his weight on either side of you as your fingers made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, untucking it from his pants and moving to shove it off of his shoulders.

He moved back on your bed to stand at the edge, and you got up on your knees to follow him, watching delightfully as he tossed the shirt aside, hands finding your hips. You grabbed the buckle of his belt, lips eagerly kissing on the raised skin where the vibranium met the man. Bucky gasped sharply, shocked by both the bold placement of your hands, and the intimate intentions of your lips. You smiled against his skin as you continued kissing your way up his shoulder, across his neck until you could whisper in his ear.

“Let. Me. Suck. Your cock.” He groaned as his head tilted back, eyes rolling in the back of his head before he grabbed the back of your neck and slammed his lips to yours.

“You’re gonna kill me.” You laughed as he let you push him back, having to lean down to continue kissing you as you stood before him, working on his belt.

By the time you’d gotten him down to just his boxers, your legs were wobbly and your core was dripping again. You were probably ready to take him at this point, but you were determined to get what you wanted, and you wanted to watch him fall apart the way you had. Kneeling down in front of him, you slipped your fingers into the band of his boxers and pulled them down slowly over his large bulge.

He sprung out of the fabric at full attention, his tip already leaking pre-cum. Stepping out of his boxers leaving him just as naked as you, he combed a hand gently through your hair as you took him in, caressing his bare thighs before you looked up at him. Another chuckle escaped him, and you cocked an eyebrow in question.

“You look like a cat who’s caught the canary,” he smiled softly. “And it’s horrible how pretty you look right now.” You bit your lip, humming in amusement as you turned your attention back to his crotch. Oh god, he was big… Could you take him? Absolutely. But would he stretch you to make it happen? In the most delicious way.

You wrapped one of your hands around the base of his dick, gauging the impressive thickness as you started pumping him slowly, already being rewarded with his quiet grunts. He would be a lot to handle, the girth alone would be a challenge. But after prepping yourself for it, you stopped your motions, settling yourself comfortably on your knees and placing a kiss on the underside of his shaft. You got a glance of him from this angle, and the state of relaxation on his features was enough to keep you going.

Returning your hand back to his thigh, you licked from the base of him up to the leaking tip, taking care to notice his sharp intake when the tip of your tongue hit his weak spot. When you wrapped your lips around the tip to collect the pre-cum, Bucky combed your hair back with both hands and held it behind you gently in his left hand, loose enough to just keep it out of your way while you set to get to work. You couldn’t help but moan as you took him little by little, bobbing your head and sucking his tip on the way back as you slowly adjusted yourself to him.

“Shit… oh babygirl, you- oohhh,” he tried, unable to compose a sentence, too focused on the way your tongue swirled around him. You gave another amused hum around him, the vibrations of your voice causing him to release another slew of curses. With each bob of your head, you took his cock deeper in your mouth, steadying yourself when you’d reached your limit.

You continued taking him that way a few more times before your eyes traveled back up to find the blue of his almost swallowed by his pupils as he watched you. You started to quicken your pace gradually, and you watched as he struggled to keep eye contact. Rolling his eyes back, closing them in pleasure, or throwing his head back entirely, he was falling to pieces in the palm of your hand.

After a few more moments, his grip tightened on your hair inadvertently as his other hand gripped your wrist, your hair tugging slightly as you sucked down on him again. “Wait wait wait, I- hold on,” he stammered, finding his voice with a groan as you released him with a pop.

“You okay?” you asked gently, seconds before he was reaching down to pull you back upright.

“You keep that up and I’m not going to last,” he groaned huskily, goosebumps forming on your skin. He grabbed your face and kissed you deeply, seeming to be catching his breath in the process. “And I distinctly remember that we had more plans.” He picked you up at the end of his statement, keeping you in his arms as he crawled up the bed, laying you delicately against the pillows.

Bucky settled perfectly between your legs, feeling him pressed up against your weeping pussy, and stealing perfectly soft and gentle kisses from your lips. Your hands couldn’t decide where to settle, combing them gently through his hair before you dug your nails into his back. His large hands caressed your sides, settling at your waist as he gave his hips an experimental roll, grinding himself against you.

“James, please,” you begged against his lips in between kisses. “Wanna feel you, want you to fill me.” You felt his wide smile as he kept kissing you, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate it as he shifted to hold his weight above you. You arched against him as he ran his tip between your folds, teasing your entrance. When he finally pushed in he took his lips off of yours to latch onto your neck, allowing you to take a sharp breath while he stretched you slowly.

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed in your ears, sinking into you easily with the help of your slick walls. You both gasped and grunted as he bottomed out, waiting for you to adjust to him. “Taking me so well, sweetheart, god you feel good.” You squirmed against him at the praise, and suddenly there was a delicious need inside you for more.

“Move, Bucky. Please.” His poor back became your personal scratching post as he dragged out of you, and you let out a desperate whine when he pushed his hips back down to yours slowly. “I can’t- I… Buck, need you to go faster, I need-” You didn’t have to say anything else before his lips were on yours and his hips picked up the pace.

The sounds of both of your pleasure as you moaned into each other was quickly becoming your favorite song, in a state of pure bliss as he thrust his hips into you at a steady pace. His large muscular body crowded your every sense, his hands holding a bruising grip on your hips to balance himself, his cologne clouding around you, and it was all so heavenly.

Your mind started to fog, and you would have entertained the notion that you might actually be dreaming if the pleasure coursing wasn’t acting as a strange sort of tether to reality. You’d thought about what it would be like many times you’d shamefully admit, but having James Barnes pounding into you with perfect, calculated force was something unimaginable.

“Fuck, I can feel you getting close, peach,” he groaned, resting his forehead against yours as both panted heavily. He let out a strangled moan, his hips faltering for a millisecond, and you realized he was right behind you. “Go ahead babygirl, wanna see you come undone under me.”

You felt like you should probably be embarrassed by how quickly he could coax you into an orgasm, but all you cared about was how intensely wonderful it felt, your legs shaking around him as you anchored yourself with the grip on his back. Your ears were ringing, and you only became conscious of the noises you were making when you felt them against your throat.

You realized he was practically crumbling over you, desperate moans falling from his lips as he struggled to maintain a rhythm, thrusting into you erratically to ride out your high. You leaned up to kiss his cheek sweetly, removing your nails from his back to brush his ruined hair out of his face, combing it back as he chased his own release.

“Come on handsome, you’re so close, let go for me,” you mumbled into his skin. You seemed to have a similar effect on him, and his cock twitched inside you at your words, letting go with a cry. He dropped his head to the base of your neck as he finished, pumping you fuller than you’d ever felt, before he carefully collapsed on top of you.

You giggled underneath him, wrapping your tired legs around his hips and massaging the back of his head, kissing his temple until he turned to look at you. His eyes were glazed over but had never looked so blue, a telltale smile teasing the corner of his lips as he basked in your attention.

“So much for fake boyfriend,” he managed quietly, and you threw your head back in a laugh, giving him a chance to pepper more scratchy, smiley kisses all over your neck.

…

Join the Taglist!

Taglist: @deceiverofgodss @janebby @lam-ila

Bucky Barnes: @toothhurtyam @keepingitlokiii @ragnaroqk @iambeeee @st-verygreen @maltifandomwar @buttybarnes1917 @mass-percussion @johnricharddeacy @aiyanalevina @jjmrpcr @xxrikixx @lexibexbal26