#I don't know how to do the underwater thing RIP

[kurakurakura99]

Come the fuck on you can't actually be serious.

Like this has to be a fucking bit right

[fadingdaggerr]

HIIII! I LOVE THE FIC YOU WROTE, THE AND NOW? SINCE UHM YOU'VE DONE CASUAL AND RED WINE SUPERNOVA, DO YOU THINK YOU CAN DO ONE WITH GOOD LUCK, BABE? OF COURSE WITH A HAPPY ENDING BUT WITH LOTS OF ANGST? OH AND IF YOU CAN'T OR TOTALLY DON'T WANT TO, IT'S ALSO FINE!

truth be told

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: melissa loves you, in what way, she doesn’t want to know. based on good luck, babe! by chappell roan | 7.8k

includes: they/them used for reader (legit once), r is mean direct during the fights (within reason? up to interpretation), angst, HURT/comfort, happy ending

warnings: internalized homophobia and comphet, unhealthy relationship dynamic, swearing, verbal fighting, light kissing/making out

note: i do think melissa is bisexual, but the song is about a lesbian dealing with comphet, so for the sake of the fic, melissa is meant to be read as a lesbian. let’s go lesbians, let’s go! buncha lesbians coming thru! also u can’t tell me mel isn’t a taurus. be so fr. i know lisa’s a leo but look me in the eyes and say that a primary trait of ‘stubborn’ isn’t melissa. u can’t. ruled by venus? like come on.

I, Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti

You’re quite comfortable in this spot on the floor, curled against the couch with your head resting against Melissa’s thigh, rounded nails grazing over the stretch of your neck and exposed shoulder. Eyes numbly glued to the corner of the coffee table, the chattering of the Schemmenti family around you feels far away, not even Vinny and Annette’s arguing over God-knows-what can reach you. It’s peaceful here, even with the yelling and seemingly genetic snort-laugh they all possess. It feels like home in every way.

Something that sounds far away, underwater, that resembles your name passes your ear, but does not breach the wall of comfort around you. The light rocking of your head and grazing nails turning to gentle scratching pulls you back to shore, head shifting to look up at Melissa, eyes scanning her face. All you manage is a questioning hum as you regain your social bearings.

Melissa’s hand slides up your neck to softly hold your chin, “was asking if you’re alright. You’re awful quiet down there by yourself.”

“‘M good, Mel. Just existing, I guess,” you answer, leaning into her more.

Her thumb brushes over your cheek, just barely passing the corner of your lips, foregoing an actual response. The twitch of a smile against her skin has her heart racing, her own light smile fading. Melissa’s mind pushes the casualness to the forefront of her mind, how you are so at ease in this undoubtedly chaotic environment. A sip of her wine replaces the instinct to rip her hand away from you, cross her legs and leave you suddenly without a place to rest.

Take you, Joseph Vincent Peterson

“Why does this credentialing shit have to be so intense? I mean, seriously, didn’t I just fucking do six years of schooling and another two, two, of assisting,” Melissa loudly complains as she goes through all her notes over the counter, “that should be proof enough, but no.”

You grab her tensing hand from across the table, ceasing your organizing of notes by topic, “honey, see how confident you are though? Means you’ll kill it, won’t even be a sweat.”

“You don’t know that,” she says dejectedly, peering back down to her elementary mathematics notes.

“I do,” you say, standing from your seat to round the table and stand behind her. Slowly, you wrap your arms around her, reaching for her balled hands, and leaning to rest your chin on her shoulder, “I know these things. You got this in the bag, pretty.”

Taking a deep breath with closed eyes, Melissa relaxes against you as a lingering kiss is pressed to her cheek. Turning slightly to face you, she presses her own lips to the corner of yours in silent thanks. You suck in a tight breath, she rarely ever allows herself to be so affectionate, even a kiss on the cheek is a rare occurrence. Sure, Melissa is a hugger, with only a select few, but this is so different. Blood rushes to your cheeks, and you are grateful her eyes are back on the notebook and she can’t see the dumbfounded look on your face.

You give her another half hour to obsess over words on a page before convincing her to call it a night, not even you can bear another moment looking at any of this. Admitting defeat, she lets you guide her to the couch, melting into the plastic lining. Melissa watches as you take your place against the arm of the couch, legs crossed in front of you while you flip through channels.

It takes less than ten minutes for the redhead to slowly start scooting closer, creaking plastic making her movements unstealthy. Taking the hint, you uncross your legs to make room for her and open your arms in quiet invitation. Unlike her previous shifting, Melissa nearly pounces into your arms, taking residence against your chest. One hand goes to her hair, scratching her scalp, the other rests on her arm, massaging the muscle.

It’s hard to tell when, or even if, Melissa is asleep on you. Her lack of talking or the slightest movement leads you to believe she’s dead to the world. Only a small whisper of caution passes your mind as your lips press to her crown, lingering there longer than you should. Snuggling into you, the redhead suppresses the smile of utter peace that begs to cross her wine-stained lips.

To have and to hold

Movie nights are always some of your favorite times with Melissa, struggling on a puzzle that you swore you could do. When you were sober. Now, the border still remains incomplete as your attentions divert to the TV when dramatic music begins playing. Admittedly, you aren’t really watching the movie to begin with, but Melissa seems to be so engrossed she hasn’t realized she’s still fidgeting with the same piece.

Aiming for her hand, you flick a puzzle piece into her lap to get her attention. Peeking up over the frames of her glasses, Melissa looks at you quizzically. Gesturing to the puzzle, you look back to her in silent question. She answers in a shrug, moving in tandem with you as you sit up to sit on the couch. A little grin grows as she realizes that she’d get to take her typical spot, but she has something else in mind.

Rushing ahead, she takes your usual spot against the arm of the couch, legs open to make space for your body and arms stretched out in invitation. Without question, you take your place, tucking your face into her neck as her arms wrap around you. Melissa is so warm, so warm that you feel like a cat on a sunspot, settling into her as her breathing calms your heartbeat.

Something switches in your mind, a sense of bravery fills you, and you press your lips to Melissa’s neck gently, lingering against soft skin. You try to pull away, but a hand on the back of your head keeps you in place, and you’re quick to oblige. Lazy, wet kisses glide across blushing skin, never harsh, not one mark left, just simple adoration.

Frayed whimpers leave her as you find a particularly sensitive spot, just below a freckle on the underside of her soft jaw. You can’t help but smile against her at the sound, instantly becoming your mission in life to hear it again and again. Trailing downwards, you stop at her clavicle, allowing your teeth to graze the bone, relishing in her breath hitching. She is chrysanthemum and mirth personified.

Wanting hands pull you up to her lips, and you stay hovering, barely a space between you. Noses brush, nails dig into your neck, hearts rapid. You feel you should tell her before you go any further.

“I love you,” it’s merely a whisper into the miniscule space, but it makes her hands pull you down to her lips. All teeth, all tongue, all need, but she doesn’t match your words.

For better, or for worse

Arm-in-arm, you and Melissa brave the harsh wind of the Philly night weather. She hadn’t believed you, and now she’s proven wrong, of course she passed her credentialing exam with nearly perfect scores. You’ve always told her how you have enough faith in her for the two of you.

Whiskey sours brought you together, at this very bar, having seen each other drinking one after finals junior year, and whiskey sours were how you celebrate every occasion. Ever since then, she has stolen the maraschino cherries from your glass with a grin, always pretending she didn’t.

Three drinks in, Melissa sweet talks you on to the dancefloor. With little room from the sea of people, she stays pressed against you, hands gripping at your sides. As the music slows, she slides her hands up to your neck, looking into you with something you can’t place, but you don’t complain. She’s a heavenly being, especially under the color-shifting lights and strobes. Green irises flick from your lips to your eyes, and there’s something in them that makes you desperately need to kiss her. Fluttering lashes quicken as she catches herself, stepping back before you can think of acting.

Just as much as she seems to not notice the pattern, you pretend not to.

“I’m gonna get a beer,” she shouts over the music, refusing to make eye contact. You manage a nod, watching her disappear into the crowd of drunk dancers. Carefully, you weave through the crowd to the bathrooms, needing a moment to breathe air without sweat mixed in.

After an embarrassing amount of recovery time, and a hit off a pipe offered by a kind stranger, you make your way back out to the bar, scanning for familiar red hair. Spotting her, no longer near the bar, but off to the side with a man. Melissa’s wearing her go on, get me a free drink smile, teeth just barely digging into her bottom lip, and he seems to be perfectly happy to do so. And you let him, cozying up to the bar to order a double to nurse.

Against your better judgment, you periodically check on Melissa and this mystery man. At first, her hands are to herself, and impressively, so are his. A few sips later, and her weight rests on the hand on his leg, leaning into his space with hooded eyes. Bile rises in your throat. You want to leave, but you came together, leaving her isn’t an option, not that it ever has been. When you check again, the man’s hand is cradling her face, and Melissa’s eyes flick to yours briefly.

She wishes she didn’t see the way your lips pursed, forcibly hiding a frown. In an effort to displace this feeling she can’t describe bubbling in her chest, she lets Joe kiss her, rough and wanting. Melissa kisses him back, lets his hands roam, nods when he mumbles to ask to take her home. With an arm around her waist, she walks with him as he walks her out.

Passing by you, she asks him to wait and sidles up next to you, “I’m- uh- I’m going home with Joe. You good to get home?”

“Yeah, love walking” you reply shortly, “just text me the address, so I know the secondary location.”

Melissa gives you an unimpressed look, “not funny. If I need a ride out of there, can I count on you?”

Looking her directly in the eye, you respond, “you can always count on me.”

Joe drives her home the next morning, with a hand on her thigh that makes her skin crawl, but she lets him. When he asks if he can see her again, she tells him she’ll let him know, and he seems to take it in stride. Stepping inside, taking her shoes off, making coffee, she’s fine. But the moment Melissa sits on the couch, a dark, twisted feeling crawls up her back and into her chest at the thought of seeing you later. The inevitable conversation you’ll have makes her feel sick, almost feeling as if she has to hide it despite you knowing. 

For richer, or for poorer

It almost feels too good to be real. Here in Melissa’s room, fan blowing, radio playing some classic rock station, on top of her comforter, pressed against her. Her lips dominate yours, tongue stroking yours for another taste of the cherry cola you’d been drinking when you got here, currently going flat on her nightstand. Greedy hands hold your shirt, refusing to let you move, needing you right where she has you.

Some days, she reveled in your attention so much that she would let herself turn her head when you went to kiss the corner of her lips. It always leads here, with her lips on yours, though she particularly loves it when it travels to her room. Your hands on her hips, fingers just barely dipping under her shirt, only the softest of touches. Always so gentle with her, your touch was never anything more than featherlike, especially so in moments like this.

Needing air, Melissa cups one side of your jaw and travels down your chin, to your jaw, to your neck, open mouth kisses littering your skin on the other. Shaky pants pass your lips, spurring her on further, mumbling baby as her teeth nip at the unmarked expanse of your neck. The hand in her hair only scratches her scalp, as it had before, but the slower ministrations match your deep breaths at every pass of her tongue. A thought passes her mind, one that freezes her from head to toe. Melissa needs you like this forever.

Feeling the lack of lips on you, your eyes peek down to Melissa’s paling face. Warmth leaves you as she pulls away, rolling from her side to lay on her back, face fear stricken. Taking the hint, you don’t touch her, just propping yourself up on your elbow against her pillow, “you okay, baby?”

You watch her take a few deep breaths, keeping your eyes on her saints, “I’m fine.”

“I can-” You take a breath yourself, “I can go, if that’s what you need.” Her short tone was making you squirrely, and her eyes forcibly ignoring you wasn’t helping the case.

“You don’t have to go. I said I’m fine,” she realizes her own tone, “I just… I just need a minute.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, rolling off the bed, “I’ll go put something on for dinner… you can take over when you’re done with your minute.” Melissa only looks at the door once you leave, face crumpling as she tries to push tears back. 

She doesn’t need you, doesn’t want you, she doesn’t. She doesn’t, she doesn’t, she can’t. Not when you hold her hand to not lose her in crowds, not when you fix her hair before getting out of the car, not even when she caves the moment your lips brush hers. It’s hard to deny the way her heart clenches when you forgo her name, always baby or pretty. It’s easier to say she loves you when she reminds herself you’re her friend.

In sickness and in health

Joseph ‘but call me Joe’ is a major pain in your ass. After three months of having his number, of not mentioning him, she texted him to invite him to the bar with you and your friends. Not once did she mention him coming, yet here he stands in a navy auto-body shop t-shirt. Their previous, singular night together clearly gives him this gnarly confidence, arm around Melissa’s waist and a hand just above her ass.

Your fingers burn from your biting, wishing you could throw the glass in your hand at him. He dares touch her in front of you, and she dares to let him. Each forceful placement of your glass back on the table makes green eyes flick to you, but they dart away before you can look back. Melissa wishes that the permanent frown on your face didn’t make her so upset.

Instead all she feels is acid in her throat, guilt and self-disgust making her squirm under Joe’s touch. Joe. She entirely forgot his presence until his hand slid into her back pocket. Peeking up, she notices that his eyes are not on her or the people talking, but on you, a hard look in his eyes. Acid bubbles, angered that he dares to look at you with such contempt.

Melissa nudges him with her hip to get his attention, cocking her head towards you in silent question. Joe leans into her, “your friend looks at me like I’m breaking a rule touching you.”

“Doesn’t mean you need to give the ugly eye. They’re just looking out for me,” she mutters, taking a sip of the amaretto sour he ordered her. It’s God awful, but she deserves as much in her mind.

Joe just gruffs a laugh, “looking out for you or jealous?” He takes her silence as not understanding, “when you’re not getting goo-goo eyes, I’m getting death rays.”

She won’t dignify an answer, hoping he’ll just take it as processing. Melissa knows, oh, she knows how you care for her, how you do more than just that. How you love her. It makes her feel ill, when it’s so clearly swirling in your eyes. The fact that others know, both her family and not, how they push her towards you, it’s terrifying.

Her mother adores you, always asking if you’re coming to dinner, begging for your presence at every dinner after the second one you attended. Kristin Marie jokes with you, not just insults, even asks your advice on things. Annette calls you Melissa’s other half, and when she gets a stony jade glare, it’s only because you two go everywhere together.

As if she knows it’s on her, she meets your gaze from across the table. Her mouth opens to speak to you, but a hand tugs her chin to the left, and Joe presses a rough kiss to her petallike lips. It’s a dare, a dare to cross him, a dare to even look at Melissa, a dare to take what he claims as his.

Forty horrible minutes pass, and on her way back from the restroom, Melissa scans the room. Everyone was right where she left them, chatting through mouthfuls of chips, except for you. Your spot had been filled in by the others, empty glass still sitting on the coaster. Over his shoulder, Joe gives her a grin, sated, waving his hand to get her closer.

Her hands scramble through her purse the second she’s seated, digging for her phone in hopes of a text from you. A single notification sits on her screen.

To anyone else, to Joe rudely peering over her shoulder to read the message, it would seem normal. However, Melissa knows better. There’s no heart at the end, no little ‘love you,’ probably written after you’d already started your journey. Just simply got tired, walking home.

In irritation, definitely not to shovel away guilt, she lets Joe kiss her again at the end of the night, after she downed another amaretto. Even lets him take her home, though he tried taking it back to hers, but to have him in a bed you have lied in? Unthinkable.

Joe’s kisses are as rough as his hands on her, just short of hurting when he grabs at her breasts. His voice is gruff as he offers to drive her home, despite her not feeling anything close to pleasure, close to some sort of good. It’s divine punishment, it seems.

To love and cherish

Melissa misses you. You are right next to her on the couch, yet she misses you. She’s grown too used to the comfort of laying against your chest, having your arms wrapped around her as you watch whatever movie she decides on. It’s ridiculous, truly. She’s with Joe, she shouldn’t be seeking comfort from anyone else, but her ear longs to be above your beating heart.

You’re still pressed against the arm of the couch, though you stay balled up and keep unblinking attention on the screen. The thought passes her mind to simply scoot up next to you, but it’s unwise with the mood you’re in. Since she called you and said Joe officially asked her to be his girlfriend, you’ve entirely pulled back. Not so much as a kiss on her cheek in six months. Melissa feels like she’s in the thick of withdrawal. 

Green eyes feel like crosshairs as you feel them scope your body, attempting to read your displeasure without asking. Truthfully, you want to be here with her, but the clock on your time goes down with each second that gets closer to Joe arriving for their date night. In effort to not cause a fight, you’ve kept away, always leaving before he gets there so as to not be forced to talk. Joseph gets a lot of joy in reminding you he’s there to see his girlfriend.

“What?” You speak into the open air, not bothering to peek at a staring Melissa.

“You’re quiet,” the redhead offers cautiously. She’s seen your bad side, but she’s never been on it. Silence from you is a sort of weapon.

You sigh, “I don’t have anything to say.” More like you don’t have anything good to say.

“You’ve got plenty, or else you wouldn’t be quiet. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Her hand comes to stroke your hair, an attempt to smother the fire, but you duck away from her touch, finally looking at her.

“Just drop it, Melissa. You don’t wanna hear it,” you look back at the TV. It’s the most honest you want to be with her.

The calm demeanor drops, “and how do you know that?”

“Because I know you.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell! Me!”

“You! You are what’s wrong!” You shout as you turn to face her, brows furrowed and nostrils flaring. “You kiss me! You touch me! You tell me you care about me! You hate every woman that gets within ten yards of me, who dares show interest in me. For what?” Melissa is in shocked silence, not answering. “Because you can’t stand that they want me, that I could want them too? Because I could maybe, just maybe, have feelings for someone that isn’t you?”

“That’s not-”

A bitter laugh leaves you, “have you ever stopped to think about what you’re doing to me when you kiss me, let me kiss you, and then just start sleeping with some guy? How do you tell me you care about me more than anything and then kiss him in front of me? I have never hidden how much I love you Melissa, not once, and you rub it in my face?”

Standing from the couch, you try to create distance as you pace with your hands on your hips. You can’t even look at her, knowing the hurt look on her face will break you. You’ll say it’s all fine when it isn’t. This dam cannot be patched. She tries to hide it, but you hear her sniffle as she stands to be level with you.

Her arms cross to create a proactive barrier, “you are the one that just assumes it’s all about you. Joe is a good guy, he cares about me, loves me. He tells me, he tells his friends.”

“And do you care about him? Love him too?”

Melissa’s eyes widen, “I… I could.”

“You could?” It’s almost a laugh. “You sound real confident in that ability. Let me know how that goes.”

The red she sees matches her hair, “and what have you done? Sit and wallow.”

“Oh, sorry, were the many times I said ‘I love you, Melissa’ not clear enough? Or were you just purposefully pretending to hear ‘you’re my bestest platonic pal’?”

“How was I supposed to know what that meant?!”

Your stills, a sudden calm coming over you as you realize the lost cause, “be so fucking rea- you know what? I’m done.” Stepping around her, you go to the door to put on your shoes, feeling like there’s glass coating the soles.

“You’re-”

“Going home,” you say standing, “I can’t do this anymore. At this point, I’m just torturing myself.” There’s no pause before opening the door.

“Please, don’t leave,” Melissa’s voice cracks.

You can’t face her, “I love you. But I can’t say I feel the same about the idea of you only loving me when others aren’t around.”

“I love you, I do. Just, please don’t go.” The door slams in Melissa’s face.

Eyes stay on the driveway as you leave, immediately pulling into your spot, Joe.

Until we death to us part

A surprise dinner for their one year anniversary might just be the most romantic thing Joe has done for Melissa the entirety of their relationship. He called her to tell her to dress to the nines, well maybe the sevens, which made her laugh, quick to hang up to start curling her hair. As she sections her hair, she wonders what kind of restaurant, which cuisine, silently praying that it’s not Italian.

Leaning against his truck, Joe lays on the horn to alert her of his presence, climbing into the cabin as Melissa steps outside. When she gets in herself, Melissa does a once over of his clothing for the evening, hoping to not find an oil stain that seems to be on every single shirt the man owned. None. Not even a mark of too-much-bleach to get rid of an old stain. Collar pressed, not a wrinkle in sight. Joseph bought a new shirt, just for tonight.

“You look handsome,” she says, leaning against the middle console to press her lip to his cheek.

Wiping her gloss from his face, through a cocky grin he says, “thought I should clean up.”

Metallica plays on the radio, no other conversation is even attempted before he pulls into the parking lot of Yamitsuki. Joe’s already a quarter of the way to the door by the time Melissa gets out of the truck, carefully dropping to the pavement in her heels. At least it’s not Italian, at least it’s not Italian.

In hopes to get and keep his attention, her arm wraps around his when he reaches him at the host stand. When the host seats them, Joe yanks his arm from Melissa’s to get in the booth across from her. The redhead sits silently, letting the man order her drink and the appetizer he wants. When he reorders his beer, wanting an American brew, she mentally steps back. Nodding and humming seems to get her through most of these conversations.

A loud laugh from the hibachi station captures both hers and Joe’s attention, though he seems more interested in the puffs of fire coming from the grill. The woman laughing grips the counter as she tries to catch her breath, her date, facing away from Melissa, is shaking with laughter as they rub the woman’s arm. Silver catches the light, and green eyes are drawn to the rings on the date’s hand. A wide silver band, only one constellation engraved into the metal. She doesn’t have to look closer. She knows it’s Taurus, she knows it’s hers.

Tempura, onigiri, even her beloved donburi, they all taste like straw as her mind rotates her constellation brushing against someone new. Melissa doesn’t even have in her to frown when Joe slams his glass on the table to get the attention of the server as they rush past with trays. Peeking away from the adult tantrum over a Budweiser, her eyes go back to the grill.

God, she wishes she hadn’t. Talking kindly to the cook, she gets a view of your profile. Warm lighting makes you glow, the easy smile on your lips makes her heart clench. You’re here, with this woman, and you’re happy. You’re without her and you’re happy. Her grip in the table cloth tightens, pulling everything her way.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asks with a mouthful of noodles. Her eyes snap to him, brows furrowed in confusion, “your face, you look upset. Is it the food?”

She finds it in herself to smile a little, “I’m fine. Just spaced out for a second.”

He doesn’t believe her, so in true Joe-fashion, he talks about everything and nothing to move her attention away from whatever’s bothering her. It would be annoying if it wasn’t a tad endearing.

A silent prayer goes to all deities above when she walks into the empty restroom, Melissa also locks the door to ensure the privacy stays. The ringed fingers gripping her lungs let go, and for the first time since she walked in the restaurant, she can finally take a deep breath. Leaning on her hands against the counter, Melissa looks at herself in the mirror. Time to put your big girl pants on, Schemmenti.

Turning on the sink, Melissa runs her hands under the cold water to cool down, the splotchy red on her chest finally dissipating. Shaking the water from her hands, she nods to herself. Turning on her heel, she forces her shoulders back, spine straight, totally fine. Stepping back into the hall, she immediately collides with another person.

“Shit, I am so sorry,” a familiar voice says as hands hold onto Melissa’s elbows to stop her sway. Long lashes flutter around wide eyes as she only stares, watching your eyes fly from where your hand rests on her arm to her face. Your eyes quickly widen as your hands pull away, though they harden swiftly, concern becoming stone. “Sorry,” is all you mumble before turning away from her, giving up on your journey to the restrooms.

What possesses her, she doesn’t know, but she follows you. Grabbing your arm, she tugs you in the restroom she had just left, locking the door behind her, she leans against it as you just stare at her. The unblinking glare you give is something she hadn’t ever been on the receiving end of, but it feels as awful as she assumed.

“Nothing?”

Your jaw drops a little, and you let out a sharp, breathy laugh, “nothing? Nothing what? Was I supposed to faint?”

“Was maybe thinking you wouldn’t just walk past me when I haven’t seen you in six months.”

“And why’s that?” At her lack of answer, your head tilts, “did you want me to stay behind glass to break in case of sudden realization?”

“Sudden realization?” It could be better to play dumb.

Biting your cheek, you look at the ceiling before you speak, “yes. Sudden realization. Maybe realize that kissing me, wanting me to kiss you, it’s pretty gay. Very gay, actually, in my professional opinion.”

“I’m not gay,” Melissa mumbles, twiddling with her fingers. Maybe playing dumb wasn’t the move.

You nod slowly, “right.”

“I’m not. I love Joe, we’re here for our anniversary. I’m not gay.”

Closing your eyes, you exhale deeply, “glad that’s settled. Can you stop holding me hostage?”

Melissa can feel the weight of your words. You’re not just a hostage of this room. You’ve been perpetually held hostage by your feelings for her, imprisoned for years and years, with never getting the love you bore in return. She tries to step closer to you, but you move at the same time, pivoting around her and unlocking the door. Your name leaving her lips in a cracked voice makes you halt, but the simmering fire in your chest refuses to let you soften.

“Let me go, Melissa. Should be easy, since, you know, you don’t love me, not really.”

“B-” The door shuts in her face again.

This is my solemn vow.

—☽—

Melissa wakes with a jolt, beads of sweat gliding down her spine. Heaving breaths constrict her chest and she drops her head into her hands in an attempt to focus and calm herself. The tight feeling in her chest dissipates as a final deep breath leaves her lungs, face cooling and heart slowing. Lifting her head from her hands, she peers to the right to make sure she hadn’t woken Joe.

Perhaps she would have, had he been there.

Joe was only ever home maybe two nights a week, always ‘working late’ and coming home well rested the next morning. Nina was getting most of his time these days, all his attention, love, and acknowledgement. It was getting hard to keep track of the times he’d almost called her Ni instead of Mel, after it hit double digits, she didn’t care anymore. It was clear now, more than ever, that she was his wife in nothing but name.

Only in her dreams does she get a level of peace, the smell of patchouli and spearmint comforting her in the haze of sleep. Oversized knit sweaters and denim brush her skin in this personal Eden, but the morning sun brings her to gasoline and another woman’s perfume. 

A part of her, deep in the back of her mind, screams, and it has only gotten louder over the last ten years. The voice screams, bordering on blood-curdling, telling her how much she hates him, how much she doesn’t love him, how much she regrets him. Every morning she wakes with him gone, the more she listens to that little voice. Every time she smells Chanel on the Eagles jacket she bought for their five year anniversary, the voice gets a little louder.

The voice warps and becomes familiar as Melissa stares blankly at the empty space beside her. You could? Let me know how that goes. If you were able to see her now, you’d be giving her that raised brow, biting your inner lip to keep from saying something she probably didn’t want to hear. In this moment, she would do anything to hear what you’d say, even if she may cry, even if she doesn’t know where you are.

With her mind running a mile a minute, she was unable to will herself back into sleep, giving up to make coffee instead. As if the universe wanted to mock her, the door quietly opens and closes, careful footsteps walking through the living room before the pause in the doorway to the kitchen. Joe and Melissa just stare at each other blankly, silence permeating their existence in these four walls. Without another word, she just pours him a cup of coffee, spooning in a little sugar before sliding it towards him.

Joseph, to his credit, reads that something is wrong, terribly wrong. There’s no anger on Melissa’s face, not even a twinge of sadness. The few times she was awake when he got home, she wouldn’t even look at him, just frown, but now, nothing. Sipping his coffee, he accepts the fate that comes at him like a fastball.

Before he even fully sits down across from her, she speaks without breaking eye contact, “I want a divorce.”

Joe did not argue, he’d seen this long coming. He saw it when they told her parents they were engaged, how Annette had to purse her lips, Kristin Marie taking her sister aside to talk privately. He loved Melissa, for a time, but he knew she loved the non-existent obligation to him, and he drifted. Regrets of his behavior disappeared the less Melissa seemed to care. Their positions were identical; he is only her husband in name.

By the end of March, he was fully moved out and placing his key in the palm of her hand. Pausing his steps, he turns back to Melissa, pressing a short kiss to her cheek, “I hope you find what you need.”

July is Melissa’s favorite month. No school starting or ending, no prep days just yet, not even a single manilla folder on the coffee table. Just Melissa, Cabernet, and the sunlight. She felt content under the sun, warming her skin and making the freckles across her chest and shoulders bloom. When Barbara invited her to the beach, she almost said no, until the mention of a private beach hut and bottomless margaritas.

By the second marg, the cackles coming from the hut could be heard from the waterfront, not that the two women cared. The third, and beginning of the fourth, the conversation went from silly to serious, both women speaking in not-so-hushed voices.

“He just didn’t care. I said I wanted a divorce, and all I got was okay. Was expecting some sort of fight,” Melissa says as she plays with the pink umbrella in her drink.

Barbara’s head drops to the side, “to be fair, dear, you weren’t really in it anymore either. You can’t seriously think he couldn’t pick up on that.”

“Wasn’t expecting a screaming match or anything, just a talk. I tried making it work, he’s the one who was out and about with Nina.”

“Melissa Ann,” Barbara starts, “you have been mentally checked out of that marriage before you even walked down the aisle. I’ve known you seven years, and I’m sorry, but it’s been clear you didn’t love him anymore. If you ever did.”

The redhead stares at Barbara with a heavy look, “what do you mean by that?”

“I’d like to think I know you well. And knowing you means I see you, see you as you are. That man, any man, is not what you long for.” Putting her drink on the table, Barbara reaches over to grab Melissa’s hand, squeezing it lovingly, “you look more in love in those university photos that you do in your wedding ones.”

Melissa fiddles with her fingers, “I’ll never have that back, I’m too late. It’s too late.”

“It’s not. Not too late to give yourself the space to see yourself, to find who makes you happy,” she reassures her friend. The tears threatening to spill from Melissa’s eyes make her tug her in for a hug, “you will be okay. And you won’t be alone.”

—☽—

Elaine stands from the table slowly, avoiding Melissa’s eyes as she mumbles a bye and leaves the bar. Six months down the drain, all because Melissa wasn’t ready to move in, just barely having given the woman the code to the door so she could let herself in. She’d called Melissa scared and a child, but what hurt the most, a coward. The redhead didn’t even dignify her with a real response, just saying if you’re done, then go. I won’t stop you.

Sipping the last of her drink, Melissa pays the tab for her vodka soda and the cosmopolitan Elaine had, telling the bartender to keep the change as she leaves to walk home. Walking the three miles home wasn’t going to be fun, but she could maybe clear her head, definitely get tired enough to fall asleep on the couch.

Ten minutes into her journey, a voice from nearby was calling out, catching Melissa’s attention immediately.

“Bosco! C’mon, inside time!” The laugh that follows stops Melissa in her tracks, another call of Bosco has her walking quickly to find the source. Under a streetlight, she pauses.

Across the street, in a little fenced yard, was a Brittany spaniel doing laps around the yard, darting and dashing away from the owner. Giggles filled the yard as the dog and owner seemingly played tag, the collar jingling in tandem with the laughter. Green eyes trail away from Bosco. You.

You look the same you had the last she saw you, apart from your hair being longer, smile lines a little deeper. Melissa can’t help it, eyes going to your hands, scanning for rings she doesn’t find. No wedding band, but especially, no constellation. Had you gotten married and divorced like her? Were you just the kind to not wear your ring? She doesn’t think so. Are you happy? You look happy, she hopes you’re happy. How long have you been here? Only two miles from her? Last she knew, you left Philly to no-one-would-tell-her-where.

She watches you stop running, hands on your knees as you speak breathily, “alright, for real. Inside time, Bosco baby!” Tears spring to her eyes as your grin grows, watching your dog gallop towards you and almost knock you over. “Oh, you’re excited to watch Living Single, huh? Let’s go.” Melissa watches Bosco trot next to you as you disappear behind the door, from her.

A watery smile crosses her lips, you were still watching the show you watched together nearly every night. Melissa still remembers the nights where you would play with her hair, twirling it around your fingers as she sunk into your chest, pressing soft kisses to her head as you giggled at something Khadijah said to Max. Those nights were her only sense of comfort, and for years, the mere memory would make her heart quake.

Pressing on, she keeps on her way home. Instead of falling asleep when she finally gets to her couch, Melissa turns on Living Single and curls against the arm of the couch, nudging her nose into plastic-wrapped fabric. She can almost smell the incense and mint gum.

For the next couple of weeks, Melisa takes it upon herself to go on more walks. Walks to the deli, to the bar, to the coffee shop, even to the park. Occasionally, there are days where she takes the longer path, one that passes the fenced yard of a brick building. To her dismay, she has yet to see you. Part of her panics, thinking that you may have seen her and were avoiding being seen. The rational part reminds her that you have a life. Luck just seems to be running low.

On a chilly Thursday, however, she stares at her feet to keep the wind from making tears and smudging her eyeliner. The clacking of steps on the pavement and jingling of a collar brings her eyes up, a familiar spaniel practically tugging against the blue leash. Bosco looks at Melissa’s still form, and starts pulling harder, trying desperately to meet a new friend.

“BoBo,” you almost whine, looking up from the grocery list on your phone, “hell you doing bud-”

Stopping in your tracks, your arm jerks as your dog pulls, but you stay in place. Wide eyes meet, and all either of you can do is stare. With a huff, Bosco pulls again, forcing you closer to Melissa. Nudging her hand, he begs to be pet, forcing her hand on top of his head.

You swallow the lump in your throat, speaking quietly, “you can pet him.”

Wordlessly, without taking her eyes off of you, her nails scratch gently at the dog’s head. Your own eyes flick around her face, only quickly dipping to where her hand pets Bosco. No ring. Shaking your head, you look back up.

“Melissa,” you say with a little nod. The corner of her lips turns up at hearing her name from you. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good…” She clears her throat, “how are you?”

“Yeah, good. You still teaching?”

A little smile stretches across her face, “second grade, over at Abbott in West. Eleven years, almost, now.”

“That’s nice, Abbott’s nice. Micah’s daughter’s starting there next year,” you say, fidgeting with the leash in your hands.

A surprised laugh leaves her, “Micah’s got a kid? Jesus…”

“I know,” you chuckle, “the man who still ties his shoes with bunny ears.”

Bosco takes the second of silence to hop up on Melissa, front paws going to her chest as he tries to sniff and lick her face. The motion shocks Melissa, who only manages a little oof! You’re quick to move, stepping close to hold under his arms and gently pull him back towards you, still hopping and trying to get to Melissa.

“Dude, what the hell?” You say, looking down at your dog, before quickly going back to Melissa, “I’m sorry about him. New people are apparently chew toys to him.”

“It’s okay,” she replies with a smile, she’s more than okay right now. Entirely stunned by the newfound closeness, the time passing around only really hits her as a car honks at a bicycle in the street, insecurity crawling in. Clearing her throat, she adds, “I- uh- it was nice seeing you.”

The little smile falls from your lips, “oh… Okay, yeah. Nice seeing you, Mel. Sure I’ll see you around.” With a little frown, you gently tug Bosco’s leash, him immediately walking with you.

Melissa turns quickly and starts to follow you, almost running to catch up. “Wait, wait. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean go, I just- it is nice to see you,” she speaks through little pants. “Would you wanna get coffee or a drink sometime? Catch up? Only if you want to,” she rushes the last part, trying not to seem as desperate as she is.

And there it is. The little grin she loved so much, had missed so much. You try to suppress it, but it’s entirely impossible. “Whiskey sours?”

—☽—

Whiskey sours. Coffee. Meeting at Wawa for lunch. Diner pancakes for supper. It was small, and then it was damn near every day for weeks on end. Time had taken the anger she had last seen in you, replaced with sheer nerves, and now comfort once again. Melissa slowly gives in and shares little things, trying to gain your trust. The lack of any Joe-mention was telling enough, as if no ring wasn’t practically shouting. To be subtle or to not be subtle, that is the question. But this is Melissa Ann Caterna Schemmenti.

“Random question.”

“Potential random answer,” you reply through a bite of your burrito.

Melissa mulls over her words, “is six months together not stupid soon to move in with someone? My ex called me a child for saying no fucking way.”

“Personally, yeah. Knowing you, even bigger yeah. Clearly didn’t know you well enough to be moving in with you.”

Melissa nods as she wipes her lips with a napkin, “no, she clearly did not.”

The pause of your chewing only lasts a brief moment before you look up, “her loss.” There’s no hiding the blush that covers Melissa’s face.

Through lunch, and the subsequent walk to finish the never ending conversation, neither of you really want to leave the other. Every topic carries to another, nearly twelve years apart coming undone the closer you sit. You fumble through inviting her over, with the mention of thinking you have the ingredients for sours, as if you hadn’t bought everything the night before.

Late into the night, with the TV low and Bosco curled in his bed, you rest against the arm of the couch. Melissa keeps her legs tucked to her chest, chin resting on her knees as her eyes struggle to focus on the screen. Sitting here with you, it’s so hard to not want to be held by you, it feels almost second nature. The churning in her mind makes her entirely unaware of the attention on her.

Shifting, you rest your back against the arm, putting one foot down on the floor. A socked foot pokes Melissa, making her jump slightly. Prehnite eyes flick towards you, quickly scanning over your position. She bites her inner cheek, eyes meeting yours in silent question. The answer she receives is a weak attempt to reach for her, too lazy to say anything.

Lightning quick, Melissa lays on top of you, taking her place in the warmth of your neck. Your arms wrap around her snuggly, holding her as if she would disappear. She feels your nose nudge her hair, a little movement against her forehead feels like a smile, one that matches her own. Gently, with a butterfly's touch, Melissa pressing a short kiss to the column of your throat before resting again.

She loves you. She does, she does, she can.

i’ve got a doctorate in projecting

if you’re looking for a longer form of a similar concept then please, if u haven’t, read the entwined series by @lot-of-nothing it is INCREDIBLE i’m speechless

feedback appreciated as always <3

[marvelouslizzie]

Trust In What Tomorrow Brings - Co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: After your first date with Bucky Barnes, you two spend some time alone in your apartment. That's when you realize you actually want to keep him.

Pairing: 40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, second encounter, teasing, pet names, sir and sergeant kink, a tiny bit of mommy kink, mentions of past relationships, mentions of trauma, protected and unprotected sex, praising dirty talking mixture, dry humping, ripped clothing, face riding, blowjob, rough sex, multiple orgasms, light punishment, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 11.9K

A/N: This is technically a second chapter to You’re My Desire but you don't need to read the first chapter to understand what's going on since this is their second date. We actually planned it as a one-shot but somehow 40s Bucky and this universe didn't want us to be done. So here we are with a sequel. We kinda went overboard with it because we just want Bucky to have a little bit of a good time in the middle of the war.

Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's a great writer and a talented creator in general.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the fourth paragraph of the story.

You may wanna read You're My Desire first

"This is absolutely crazy. They are all yours?" Bucky's fascinated smile is so cute that you smile, too.

“Oh yeah, I have been collecting books for a long time.”

"What's this?" He takes a book with a white cover that had no title or author written on it and analyzes it carefully.

“No, no, no.” You immediately try to take it back. “That’s not for your eyes, mister.”

"What?" Bucky snorts. "Is that your diary or what?"

“No, it’s not my diary.” You try to take the book back again, but you're not successful.

"Then why not?" He is even more curious now, turning his back a little to you to open it. "Even a dedication, huh? Is it from an old lover?" 

“No, it’s not. Come on, give it back.”

He sighs, not wanting to push you and hands you the book. "Okay, sorry."

You didn’t expect him to give up this easily. His consideration makes you wanna share a little bit more with him. So you open up a page and show him.

“This is why you aren’t supposed to see this.”

He was careful not to hurt her as he pushed her.

Her skin was so soft under his touch that nothing matters anymore.

"Oh god," Bucky covers his mouth. "Is the whole book like this, doll?"

“Pretty much.” You giggle a little, amused by his cute reaction.

"Wanna read it to me?" He winks.

“You can read it yourself if you wanna learn a thing or two.”

"Excuse you?" Bucky raises his eyebrow. "Are you questioning my skills now?"

You throw your head back, laughing, and Bucky crosses his arms with a frown as he watches you.

“I’m teasing you.”

"Sure." He puffs. He knows you have experience, but what if he doesn't keep up to your expectations?

“I’m really teasing you. Half of the things they do sound unrealistic.”

"Give me an example." His voice is somehow a little vulnerable.

You take a big breath, already regretting this. “Let’s see: having sex underwater like crazy. The girl is… wet for hours. They are going at it all night, and the guy comes several times in a row.”

Bucky snorts, coming closer to you. "Does he have the super super serum? Because that's not biologically possible."

“That’s exactly what I meant.“

"Yet you still read them. Who wrote this?"

“There aren’t many options when it comes to these kinds of books. The author is not written as you can see.” 

"How do you find them though?" He's genuinely curious.

“Mostly we borrow from each other. This one is my favorite so I bought a copy.”

"We? Who's we?"

“Girls. Exchanging books.”

Bucky's eyes glow all of a sudden. "Like a book club?"

“Yeah, like a book club.” You can’t help but smile at how excited he is.

"Oh god. Is it only for girls?" He tries to calm down a little, but this is so interesting he can't control himself. 

Your smile turns into a full laugh. “You wanna read erotic books with girls?”

Bucky groans embarrassed as he covers his face. "No, of course not. I was just wondering. I can read erotic books with my girl."

“Your girl?” You raise your right eyebrow playfully.

"Aren't you?" He drops the hand from his face to grab yours.

“It depends on you.” You really wanna kiss him, but you hold yourself back.

Bucky surprises you by grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your book falls on the floor, but neither of you cares as he kisses you gently. "Want to be my girl, doll?"

“Yes, yes.”

"Are you sure? I can't make love to you the whole night," Bucky says amused.

You laugh. “I don’t think I would survive that even if you could.”

He joins you in laughter. "I'd probably die mid-thrust."

“You know what, though?”

"What?"

“I didn’t think having sex against the wall was realistic. You know, carrying the other person the whole time while thrusting. I thought that no more than 2 or 3 minutes could be possible, but you proved me wrong.”

Bucky looks at her surprised. "Really?"

“Yeah, really. I still don’t know how you did that.”

"I just held you. I'm a soldier." He brushes it off. "Maybe your... friends need to exercise more."

“My friends?” You repeat in a joking manner.

"Special friends."

“I don’t have any special friends.”

"Doll," he groans. "You know what I mean."

“I know and I never had any special friends.”

Bucky sighs. "Your previous... partners."

“I just had one partner, and he wasn’t a special friend. He was my fiancé.”

"Oh?" He feels like a total fool for assuming that. The word engagement, though… That burns a hole in his stomach. "Your fiance? What happened?" 

“He got drafted, and then I found out he was cheating on me. So I broke off the engagement.”

Bucky can't believe it. How could he do that? "Wow, I'm sorry. I have no idea what to say. When did it happen?"

“Over a year ago.” You offer a little more information with a bitter smile. You're glad you found out then. It would have been a mess if you had gotten married before that. “It’s okay. You already said more than he ever did.”

"I..." Bucky takes a step back. You're probably still in pain. Maybe even in love or regretting what could have been. He doesn't know how to process this. "I'm sorry once again."

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “And look, I know what kind of impression I gave you on that first date. So if you don’t believe I only had one partner before, I understand it.”

"That's not... I frankly don't care how many partners you had. That is the last thing I'd ever care about. What we did was to follow our needs." He sighs. "But I want to know what you really want us to be. Because I am not sure I would be the right guy to mend your heart only."

He wants a whole lot more.

“I am not expecting you to mend my heart, Bucky.”

"You talked about pain," he says naively.

“Pain that happened in the past. I’m not in pain anymore.”

"Oh." He slaps his forehead. "I'm sorry. I misunderstood, I guess. I was surprised because we have a connection and I felt like you liked me back, so hearing that you suffer..." Bucky's eyes soften. "He's an idiot. He never deserved you. A coward and a horrible man. I am sorry you had to go through this."

You wrap your arms around his neck. “You think we have a connection, huh?” You ignore the rest. You don’t wanna think about the past anymore.

"I hope you feel it, too." He sounds so shy and vulnerable you can't help yourself but smile.

“You are in my apartment all alone. What do you think?”

"I think we should dance."

“Dance?” You are surprised by his sudden suggestion.

"Yes. I mean, I am not a great dancer, but I’m decent enough. Can we?"

“Yeah, of course. We should put some music on first.”

"You have a record player?! He doesn't even try to hide his shock and excitement anymore, so you grab him by his hand and drag him toward your record player. 

You watch him staring at the big pile of records on the table.

“I have my apartment now, so I can spend my money on books, records, and stuff to cook.”

"Can you adopt me?" He jokes, without taking his eyes off your record player. "Wanna be my mommy? You can be my special young mama."

“Oh?” You try really hard not to smile, a little confused. “How does that work?”

"How do you think it works?" He's not even trying to sound seductive, but he still does. You have to take a deep breath, trying to keep your excitement down.

“I really don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

"Hmm, maybe another time. How about we dance?"

“Okay,” you say and you start to go through your records until you find Frank Sinatra. You put the record on and manage to find There Are Such Things really quickly.

"I love this one! You have a treasure here, doll." You extend your hand out and wait for him to take it so you two can start dancing. "Wanna sway with me, ma'am?" He finally takes your hand and brings you closer.

“I would love that.”

You're not surprised he's a good dancer. You expected this to be honest. But his goofiness, his funny faces, the way his voice feels so pleasant as he sings the lyrics… You feel shy to sing along when he's such a good singer, so you only hum against his chest.

He is warm and strong under your touch. It makes you remember the time you were much closer than this. You wondered what got into you that day, why you acted the way you did. He’s just intoxicating, and you would totally do it all over again.

"What are you thinking about?” He looks at you. “You seem distracted. Wanna do something else?"

His voice takes you back to reality. You are ashamed to admit you were thinking about sex, so you snuggle against his chest.

“No. Let’s keep dancing.”

"Only if you tell me what got you so distracted." You feel his lips on your head as he speaks.

“Your touch.” You try to be honest but also not expose yourself completely.

"What about it? Already tired of it?" You know he does it intentionally. He's so easy to read at this point.

“Yeah, so tired of it, that’s why I wanna keep dancing.” You try to surpass the urge to smile.

Bucky snorts, unable to contain himself. "All types of dancing?"

“How many types of dancing do you know, Sergeant?”

"One that you know for sure, too. We practiced it before." The change of tone is so obvious, and his hands fully wrap around your hips, pushing you more against him. He's so hard.

You look up, not moving away from his chest when you realize you aren’t the only one thinking about sex just because you are dancing. It’s a relief.

“I thought we were doing a regular dance,” you say, but the smile on your lips is giving away your actual feelings about this situation.

"Isn't this regular?"

"If you want it to be."

"Sounds good to me."

"Where should we dance, though? Kitchen? Bedroom? Here? Bathroom?" You start to laugh. He’s such an idiot. "Floor?" He joins you and starts to laugh as well.

“Floor?” You frown. “I think we deserve a bed this time.”

"I was teasing you," He lifts your chin to kiss you properly. "Thought you liked it rough."

“It can be rough in bed.”

He groans at the thought of taking you hard in a soft bed. "I might break it, doll."

“I bet you could.”

"Is that a challenge?" You love the subtle tone in his voice.

“No, it’s a prediction.”

And just like that you finally realize the music has stopped, only the sound of the needle-moving breaking the silence.

"Should we, uhm, play another or…?" He asks curiously, letting you go.

“We can, but I am a little hungry. We can listen while eating, and you can choose the time. How does that sound?”

Bucky's eyes widen. "That's perfect."

*

"I love this. Where did you get it from?" He's playing with the bracelet you're wearing as he eats another strawberry, laying on the couch next to you. It feels so natural, like you did this a million times before, yet still exciting.

“Oh, this?” You move your arm a little, but not away from him. “It belonged to my grandmother.”

"It's so beautiful, a perfect fit for you."

“She told me my grandfather gifted this when they got engaged.”

"Rich." He can't help himself but comment. "Sorry, I mean it's really beautiful, but also kind of expensive. He must have loved her very much." Then he places a small kiss on your wrist, right below your bracelet. 

You laugh a little. “How do you think I could afford all this stuff?”

Bucky clears his throat, nervous. "You have a point, I just don't think about money. I don't come from a rich family."

“If you were, you wouldn’t be fighting in this war.” Your tone is suddenly more serious than you intended.

"So you don't mind going out with a nobody?" He sighs, just as serious.

“You are not nobody. Not to me!” You caress his cheek. “You are James Bucky Barnes.”

He melts under your touch immediately. He doesn't remember the last time he felt this type of warmth.

"You're so sweet."

“Wait. Does this mean…” You aren’t sure how to ask, but his comments about being rich remind you of the conversation you had not long ago. “The adopting or mommy thing you said. Does it mean this?”

He laughs so hard you can't believe it. Did you misunderstand? Is it not what it really means?

"I don't know, mama. What do you think that means?"

“Oh, come on! I have no idea and you know it!”

"I think you do."

“Nope. Not at all. Maybe you just want kids. That would make me a mama, right?”

"Hmm." Suddenly he’s distracted by that idea. He's simply too busy imagining his come dripping out of you to give you a proper answer, making you even more curious. 

“You are such a tease,” you grumble.

"What does that mean?"

“What do you think that means?” You mimic his question.

Bucky taps his thigh and smiles. "Come here. You can ask me anything." You look at his thighs and then back into his eyes, biting your lip. That offer is so appealing. "I thought you trusted my strength."

“Oh, I do.” You move a bit closer, but not on his lap. “I am just not trusting myself.”

He gasps, bringing you closer himself. "Fuck, why?"

“You know the answer to this one.” You remark cheekly.

"No, I really don't."

“You are lying, mister. You know what I mean when I say I don’t trust myself.” You move your legs, trying to find a comfortable position.

"I don't know exactly what you mean."

“You might find out later then.”

He groans, moving his hands to your breasts, unsure. "I wanna know now."

“I'll tell you only if you promise me that you'll explain the mom thing.” You like how distracted he looks, so you keep leaning in.

"You're a mommy right now."

“And what does that actually mean?”

He's too focused on your breasts to even hear you. "Fuck, look at those hard little things." He can't help but pinch one of your nipples.

“Bucky!”

"So squishy." He's so fascinated as he squeezes the other breast eagerly. He's like a distracted child.

You move a little bit back, so he can’t touch them. "No!" He immediately complains, reaching out to touch them again. "How dare you!"

“No answer, no touching.”

He lifts his head and gives you the most betrayed look you've ever seen. His eyes are almost glossy. "You can't take them away."

“I can actually.” You move a little bit more. “See? They come wherever I go.”

Bucky gasps, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer. "Don't you dare!"

“You are so dramatic.” You laugh while hugging him back.

"I am not." He pouts, burying his face into your boobs again. 

“You are.” You move your hips just a little while still hugging him.

"What are you doing?"

“Nothing.”

"Nothing?" He moves his hips, too.

You make a sound you don’t expect but try to act like it didn’t happen. “Yeah, nothing.”

"Fuck me," he whispers to himself before taking your nipple in his mouth through the blouse. He wants to make you moan like that again. He needs to.

“Jesus, Bucky!”

"I'm your Jesus now?" He asks teasingly, switching to the other nipple.

“You can be my God if you keep doing that.” Shit, where did this response come from? He brings out a part of you that you didn’t know it even existed.

"You can't say this." He cries out unexpectedly, still licking you through your blouse. "You can't."

“Why?” It comes out like a whine.

"It's too much."

“You are too much.”

His hands grab the edge of your blouse without warning, but before he can rip it off, you slap his arms. 

“You can just take things off without ripping them, you know?” You take the top off yourself, showing him how it’s done. “See, it’s not that hard.”

He ignores your comment and doesn't even warn you before grabbing your boobs and squeezing them together. "Missed you." Then he brings his head right between them, snuggling. You can’t help but laugh. "What's so funny?"

“You are. Look at you.”

"Can't look at me. I'm looking at something better." He licks the valley between your breasts without letting them go, and you curse under your breath. "Gonna take them away from me again?" He lets his tongue get to your right breast, and you feel his teeth dangerously close to your nipple now, making you moan.

“I think I should shut my mouth. I’m boosting your ego way too much.” You play because he’s boosting your ego, too. 

"You can shut my mouth, baby. Anytime."

“Shut your mouth how?” You bring your hands over his mouth. “Like this?”

He bites your fingers in response. "Nope. Try again."

You move your hand to his neck and put a little pressure. “Maybe like this?”

He lets out the lowest moan you've ever heard from his mouth, closing his eyes. "Oh."

“Am I getting closer?” You ask. His eyes are so dark when he opens them, you're shocked. “Or did you mean something else?” You whisper right into his ear.

"Ihm. I did, can you guess?" He tries to distract himself before he can think about how much he enjoyed your grip on his neck. 

“I’m out of ideas,” you say, making him drop his hand to your skirt. His fingers are playing with the edge of it. You can feel the implication of him wanting to take your skirt off. “You want me to… Shut you up with… Like that?”

"Imagine it." He closes his eyes, palming you over your underwear. "You'd be able to control the movements more." 

“Did you… try this before? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

"You think you can hurt me?" He sounds so offended. "Oh, hell no. We should do this right now and I'll show you."

“Of course, I can hurt you. I could crush you!”

He looks at you amused. "Can't wait. Now come here and don't you dare hold back or you'll get a punishment. Got it?"

“Punishment?” Your eyes widen upon hearing that word. You aren’t sure if it’s scary or exciting. Could be both.

"I don't mean hurting you." He realizes immediately how this sounded. "I mean... spanking lightly."

“Oh, that kind of punishment.” You get a bit more relaxed, but your heart is beating fast. You move yourself where he wants you, but it feels so wrong. “I am afraid I might suffocate you.”

Bucky wants to protest immediately, but he stops himself. He knows you only need reassurance.

"How about we have a sign? If I tap three times on the couch, we stop. How about that?"

“Tap on me. Doesn’t matter where. Just on me, so I can feel it immediately.”

He nods, all melted. "Okay, now please don't hover." He gently orders.

“Tell me if I do anything wrong.” 

You lower yourself on his face while trying to gather your skirt up for him.

"Can I rip it off or not?"

“You can. I knew you were gonna ask that, so I wore something I don’t like much.”

"Skirt too?" 

“No. Not the skirt because I can take it off easily.” You unzip the skirt and take it off your head. “See?”

"Shame..," he says disappointed before finally ripping your underwear off with only one hand. "Finally!"

“You are a savage, Sergeant Barnes.”

"And I think you love that."

“Very much.” You lower yourself on his face, practically shutting him up like he wanted. He doesn't disappoint as he moans against you, making sure you're not hovering before pushing his tongue inside you. “Oh my god!” You yelp when you feel his warm tongue for the first time.

He can't answer as he's too busy eating you, but you feel his hands squeezing your skin harder. You spread your legs even further to feel his tongue better. It feels so good that you have a hard time keeping your voice down.

"Good girl." His praise goes directly to your core, and you curse under your breath, thinking you won’t last long. He can't help himself but bring one of his hands to your clit, hesitating.

“Just your tongue.” You request while moaning, and he agrees wordlessly.

You start to move your hips back and forth, trying not to go overboard and Bucky seems to love it, groaning louder against you, moving his tongue. As it gets more delightful, you have a hard time balancing yourself, so you grab onto his hair with one hand.

"Fuck!" He takes his mouth off just to curse. "Pull as hard as you want."

You pull his hair a little bit more before he puts his mouth back on you, just to see his reaction.

"Jesus, I'm..." he's so hard and excited that he's already started to leak. "I'm gonna make a mess on your couch."

“I’m already making a mess on my couch.” You are dripping wet, and he’s worried about making the mess. He’s so cute, especially when he’s laying down to please you like this.

"Keep bouncing, baby," he demands, then in no time, his tongue is flat, ready to be used by you, and you don’t hesitate.

You hold onto his hair with your right hand as you ride his tongue. You don't even realize how hard you pull until you hear his moans, encouraging you to keep going. He's clearly not suffocating, and you don’t realize how fast you are moving your hips, either. Not until you explode on his face, moaning mindlessly while trying to keep your shaking legs moving until you are done coming.

What surprises you the whole time is how he doesn't stop using his tongue until you finish, trying to hold you in place so he can give you more pleasure. You move yourself back a little after you are done, sitting on his chest and trying to catch your breath. You feel like a mess. 

"How was it?" He doesn't move as he asks you that, only wiping his face with the back of his left hand.

“Earth-shattering. Wow.”

He snorts before licking his fingers right under your eyes. "Gonna listen to me next time?"

“Yes, sir,” you jokingly say, feeling boneless but still needing more.

"No." His answer comes more like a groan than an affirmation. "You can't… call me sir."

“Why not, sir?”

"God, it sounds so... great." He doesn't know what else to say, covering his face shily.

“Did I just discover something about you or did you already know this?” You finally move away from his chest, leaning down to kiss him.

"It's something new."

“What about Sargeant? That you must have known.” You move your lips to his cheek, just making them brush his skin.

"Come on. Kiss me." He complains.

“Ask nicely.”

"Please?"

You finally kiss him on the cheek. "You are so pretty when you beg." Then you move your lips to his jaw and neck.

"You are even prettier when you listen." 

"Am I? What if I don't listen?"

He brings his hand to your neck. "You're a bad, bad girl. And bad girls get punished." He smiles.

"I never got punished in bed before."

He smiles. "What would you want to try? Spanking as I suggested before?"

"You are giving the orders, remember? Not me."

Bucky raises his eyebrow. "You mean you pretend I'm giving the orders."

"Maybe I want you to give the orders, not just pretend." He squeezes the sides of the neck.

"You can try whatever you wanna try. You can give orders, just stop whenever I say stop."

"Deal.”

*

It feels strange to have him in your bedroom, truth be told. Especially watching him getting rid of his underwear and socks this close to you. His hair bounces with every move, so you can't help but giggle. And he looks so good. Really good, especially under proper lighting.

It’s not the first time you are seeing him half-naked, but you definitely didn’t get a good look while having a quickie in a dark alley. His body looks toned, strong, and capable. You are dying to feel his touch, but you stand still, waiting for him to come to you.

"How many taps when you want me to stop?"

“Three.”

"Good." He smiles assuringly before slowly spreading your legs further. "You're so cute waiting for me."

“Just cute?”

He shakes his head, finally positioning himself at your entrance. His eyes are stuck on you: your hair, face, neck, chest. "You're sweet too," he teases, pushing inside you.

“Fuck.” You moan silently. It feels so good to feel him inside you again. “Sweet? Anything else?” You voice comes out so breathy.

"Smart. Nerdy." He leans in, putting more of his weight onto his elbows. "Beautiful. Brave. Loud and adorable."

“Brave?” You look confused while biting your bottom lip, trying not to make a loud sound.

"Aren't you?" He smiles, starting to thrust a little faster, but not enough to make it impossible to speak. At least for now. "Brave to move on from a failed engagement. Brave to live with your friend here. Brave to accept our date. Brave to test me." His laugh is so contagious.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. “You think I tested you?” Your lips are inches away from his.

"I know you did." He kisses you, not waiting for you to do it as he lifts one of your legs on his shoulder. "At the fair." He sounds out of breath this time, his thrusts hitting a little deeper.

You wanna say you didn’t, that it wasn’t a test. It is something that happened, and you don’t regret it, but instead, a loud moan escapes your mouth. The angle change fills you with a different kind of pleasure. 

"What a responsive doll you are." He smiles against your neck. "So perfect for me." You pull your legs, spreading your legs even further to give him more space to move. It makes his thrusts feel even better somehow. "Jesus, this is..." He's trying to find the perfect words to describe how he feels, but there are none. "Heaven."

“Oh, god!” It’s hard to keep your voice down when he latches onto the closest nipple, Whatever he’s doing with that tongue, it helps you to feel better down there. It’s driving you closer to your release.

"I'm your god now?" He jokes, stopping the sucking for a few seconds just to tease you.

“Yes! Yes, you are. Keep doing that and I will worship you later.”

He doesn't just continue lick and suck on your breast, he also starts thrusting deeper than before. The sound of the bed moving is even more obvious now. There is no way your neighbors don't know what is happening. 

“Shit!” It’s so hard not to curse when he’s pounding like that, hitting all the right spots. “I’m so close,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice down. “Just keep going, don’t change anything.” 

"Just like this?" He asks, keeping the same pace as you asked. "Are you going to be good and enjoy yourself?"

“You have no idea…” You try to collect yourself to form a sentence. “How good I feel right now.”

"I do," he says breathlessly before letting his teeth and tongue mark your neck. The pain you feel somehow enhances the pleasure, and you suddenly find yourself throwing your head back, shutting your eyes, and moaning his name over and over again. You’re coming so hard. "I feel like... Doll, please, say my name again."

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.” It’s all you wanna say anyway. “Please, don’t stop. Please!” You have no idea why you’re begging. You know he won’t stop, yet you still wanna do it. You still wanna beg him not to stop. It feels that good, that precious.

"Never." He manages to answer you between moans. "I'd rather die."

“Oh god, I think I…” Pleasure keeps hitting you in waves. “I might be dying myself.” You never had an orgasm this long. Your whole body is tensed up. You can actually hear your ears ringing.

"Gonna come for you, pretty doll." He bites your neck on another spot.

“Please, please.” It’s like you forgot all the other words. You watch him through a haze how he reaches his orgasm, saying your name like a whisper as he suddenly stays still inside you.

After he finishes, you close the distance and give him a big kiss. Sloppy and loving. It feels like you are thanking him for all the pleasure he’s just given you.

"Hi." He smiles. "Are you good?"

“God! I feel like I am still on the clouds.” You caress his face, carefully admiring his features. “What about you?”

He smiles. "I'm in heaven."

“Does it always feel this good?” The words come out of your mouth unintentionally. You really didn’t mean to ask that out loud. It was just a thought. “I mean, I don’t know what you are doing different to make it feel so good. I didn’t experience this before.” You keep rambling, trying to explain yourself. “So I wonder if it is supposed to feel this good all the time. But I’m not trying to question your past or anything. Don’t get me wrong.” You would keep talking if he didn’t cut you off.

"Breathe, baby. No, it doesn't feel like this with everyone else because you don't always have a connection. I am so glad to hear I made you happy." He smiles like a fool.

You cover your face with your hands. “I shouldn’t have asked that, I am sorry. It feels like it’s something you keep to yourself.” 

"What? No. Ask me and I'll answer."

You finally take your hands off your face.

“Okay. I have another question then.” He’s still inside you. and you can feel him getting hard again. “Is it normal that you are already getting hard inside me this quickly?”

He groans. "Told you, you felt amazing."

“That’s not my question, though. Is this normal for you? You always get hard this quickly after coming?” You insist because you wanna know. You have a feeling there’s something different about him, and you wanna prove it to him. 

He has no idea about your intention, though. He’s worried that he’s hurting you, so in a few seconds, he quickly gets out of you. 

"Sorry. I didn't want to hurt you." He raises from the bed, taking off the used condom as he walks to the nightstand. "And yes, I do become hard like this. Why?"

“You didn’t hurt me.” You want to quickly clear that up. “And you know it takes at least half an hour for other men, right? That’s not… how it normally works.”

Bucky laughs. "They haven't met you."

“I’m talking from experience this time. In this case, they met me. This has nothing to do with me.”

He rolls the second condom on as he speaks. "Maybe I'm a lucky man."

“Okay, you are ignoring too many signs. I have to prove it to you. Bring me that small mirror.” 

Bucky starts laughing, but he does what you ask him to, then coming back.. "What are you gonna do, huh?"

You sit on his lap, and just like that he’s back inside you.

“Welcome back.” You joke with a smile. “Now gimme the mirror.” He hands it over, and without explaining anything, you lean down, gently licking and sucking on a certain spot. 

Bucky tries desperately not to thrust his hips. After a while, you start to bite his neckless gently, which makes you feel a little guilty.

He doesn't seem to mind though. Quite the contrary. "You can bite harder.”

“Hmm…” If he doesn’t mind, you don’t mind biting harder either. So you do it again, dragging the skin with your teeth. “God, you’re so delicious.”

His hands find their way to your breasts, making sure not to grab them too hard. You bite the same spot again, fand a red spot is already forming.

"Little artist," he says when you reach for the mirror, turning it to him so he can see his neck. It’s clearly dark red. "See? You gave me a hickey. Congrats, baby." He smiles proudly and kisses your cheek.

“Let’s see how long it will take you to heal.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. "I just have a ticker skin, baby. Now come on, please, do something. Why are you torturing me?"

“I’m a small, adorable girl. I don’t know how I am supposed to move.” You are fully lying, and he knows it. So he decides to play your game.

"Bounce a little. Up and down."

You act like you are trying and failing. “Like this?”

Bucky shakes his head. "Try again. Change the angle a bit."

“Oh, come on, Bucky.” You whine. You love and hate how he quickly catches up to whatever you try to do.

"You should be a good little girl and try it yourself."

“Fine.” You frown and start moving for real this time, and he immediately wraps his arms properly around your waist.

"What's wrong?" 

“I was teasing you, so you would get tired of it and take control.”

He smiles. "I know."

In response, you punch him in his shoulder. “Then why didn’t you?”

"Why would I give you what you want now?" His voice drops lower. "Wanna push your limits."

“My limits?” You repeat as he brushes your nipples. “You wanna torture me? Make me desperate? Is that what it is?”

Bucky smiles, getting his lips close to yours again, but before he can kiss you, he takes you by the back of the head and moves you. You whine when he gets out of you.

“Bucky! What the fuck?”

"I need you to trust me, okay?" He tries to help get on all fours as he speaks. You nod in agreement. "Need your ass a little higher."

“My ass?” You sound a little afraid. You are definitely not ready for that if that’s his intention.

"Yes." He doesn't notice the change in your tone right away. "Promise I don't- oh, I don't plan on doing anything like that I promise. Just trust me."

You take a deep breath of relief. “Okay.”

"Put your weight on your elbows, okay?" You do as he asks. You switch the weight, putting your head down while your ass goes higher. "Do you feel comfortable?" 

“It’s a little weird, but not uncomfortable.”

"Ready?"

“Yes!” You sound impatient, and he quickly pushes inside you. Not too much, afraid he might hurt you in any way.  It must feel way deeper like this, and he doesn't want to risk it.

"God," he finds himself moaning. "You feel so good." You can’t respond to him though. All you can do is just moan. It feels incredible. "All good?"

“Yeah.” Your voice feels a little different. Raspy. “You can move.”

Bucky lets out a deep breath before finally trying out a few slow thrusts. "How does it feel?"

“Good. Really good.” It’s like your vocabulary disappears when you two have sex. It’s hard to form sentences or express yourself.

"How about this?" He asks while moving much faster. It's something about this angle that gives him more room to use his strength.

“Jesus Christ!” You mumble. How can it feel this good?

"I don't think I can last as long as before." He groans as he watches you shiver under him. The way you sound like this, your position, the way you feel... He's on another planet.

“I don’t think you have to.” It’s unbelievable how close you are. It’s normally not that easy for you, but things are different when you are with him.

He keeps the same pace, focusing on your moans and the sound of your skin slapping. His mouth somehow manages to find your shoulder and he licks the same spot for a few seconds, making you shiver. "So sweet for me."

Even though you love how he is licking and talking into you ear, him leaning in changes the angle and the pace. It’s not as rough as it was before, and you find yourself moving your hips back, trying to get more friction.

"Look at that." He smiles against your shoulder, sounding fascinated. "Someone is unhappy with my services."

“Not unhappy.” You definitely aren’t. “It’s just… my hips don’t listen to me anymore.”

"Oh, no," Bucky comments amused before getting back to his initial position. "Your poor hips."

You know he isn’t mocking you for real but something about it irritates you. So you stop moving your hips. “Better?”

He lifts his eyebrow even though he knows you can't see him. "Hmm." You suddenly feel a slap on your ass. You make a sound that can only be described as a half moan half yelp.

"What was that?" Another spank follows. This time you’re moaning when the burning feeling spreads on your ass cheek completely. You feel the urge to move your hips again, but you refrain yourself.

"Look at you, bratty little cat. You're getting wetter because of this." He's so excited as he rubs your cheeks with both of his hands, but you can do this later. He's too close. You are, too. And just like that, he's back to fucking you. He doesn't go back to his gentle rhythm. Surprisingly, his thrusts are deep and fast.

“Oh my god!” The rhytm is finally the way you wanted it again. Instinctively, you lean in a bit more, and your head gets buried in the bed while your ass is a little higher than before.

"Jesus, doll." He cries out, feeling so overwhelmed. "I'm so close. So... so close."

Your hand moves to your clit, touching yourself just the way you like it, even though it feels so hard to do while he’s pounding you. That’s all you need to finally reach the climax. You're not quiet at all despite your failed attempt to muffle your moans with your pillow. And Bucky feels like that's it. He doesn't even manage to warn you that he’s following you and coming hard. He softly moans your name after he finishes, falling onto your back just to feel your skin.

His hands wrap around your body and you let yourself fall with him. The indescribable pleasure you felt is still running through your whole body.

"Wow!"

You laugh a little, trying to turn your head. You wanna see him, kiss him, and maybe tease him a little, but he's already prepping kisses all over your neck, then your back. 

“You are crushing me,” you say jokingly but it’s half true.

"Oh, sorry." He immediately gets off you, throwing himself on the bed completely.

“Don’t go that far away though.” You exaggerate a little, opening your arms. You want him as close as possible.

Bucky doesn't hesitate to use this as an opportunity to bury his head into your boobs. "Hmm, perfect. I’m in heaven with you and these babies." He kisses both of your breasts to emphasize what he means.

You can’t help but snort. “Babies?”

"Yes, my babies. My dolls."

“I thought they were mine.”

Bucky puffs before snuggling even more. "Only mine."

“And I have no say in this?” You joke again, and he shakes his head.  “Does it mean this…” You grab his dick gently. It’s soft and the condom is dangling. “...is mine?”

His whine is so loud, making you giggle. "Of course it's yours."

“Oh, I love this deal.” You use your thumb and index finger to take the condom off.

"Fuck." He closes his eyes.

“Sensitive?”

"A little."

“That’s okay.” You give him a little kiss on the head, then move a little so you can tie the condom up. That makes you see the hickey on his neck again, which is almost gone. You put the condom away and reach for the mirror you used before.

"What?"

“Remember the lovely hickey I gave you?” Bucky nods. “Wanna see it now?” You lift the mirror so he can take a look. He expected to see only a faded pink mark, but instead the skin is intact as if you never bit him. 

"How!?"

“That’s my question exactly.”

"What the fuck is going on?" His hand goes to the place your mark used to be and there's no trace of any teeth. "Holy cow."

“I think you are healing faster than any of us.” You stop for a second. “Like Steve.”

Bucky's eyes immediately find yours. "You don't mean..."

“I don’t know what I mean, to be honest, because I don’t know any details. Like… Did you participate in whatever they did to him? Or maybe it’s something transmittable, I don’t know.”

You see him going pale all of the sudden, and your heart drops. He seems to know what caused this.

"They must have done something to me when I was captured. But I didn't change like he did." He looks so confused, like he’s trying to put the puzzle pieces together. "I'm not like Steve."

“You were captured?!” That’s all you focus on. You have to know.

"I was." He sighs, placing the mirror on the floor before pulling you onto his lap. "By Hydra. Long story short, my unit and I were sent at some point at a weapon facility in Europe. In Austria... We were forced to work on an advanced bomber plane. I have no idea what happened to that, but I was so..." Bucky closes his eyes. "I was starving, losing weight every day. I was so weak I couldn't continue, so they did something else."

“Dear God.” You are completely shocked. “Are you okay?”

"I was basically a test subject for a crazy doctor. I thought they just tested different things for a death serum. But now I am not sure at all." He's so lost in his memories now. He is clearly not like Steve, but it's so weird how his health reports were fine. He shakes his head, not wanting to think about it any longer. "I'm more than well when I'm with you." He finally answers your question.

“I’m glad you are here with me.” You give him a full kiss, thinking about all the possibilities, everything that could’ve happened before you two had the chance to meet. You wouldn’t even know who he is and that somehow hurts more.

"You're so precious." He hugs you so tightly you feel like you're about to cry.

You try not the think about how he could’ve been still a captive. You can’t imagine how horrible that experience must be, but you don’t wanna cry. Not when he’s in your arms like this. 

“Wanna test out how super you are?” You suggests instead. A change of subject can help you both.

"Want me to cook for you? Going to prove to you I am marriage material after all." He smiles.

Your eyes widen with surprise. “Marriage?” That definitely wasn’t what you were expecting him to say.

"Don't mind me, doll. What did you have in mind?"

“No, no, no. You can’t say that and leave it at that.”

Bucky strokes your hair. "What else can I say? I'm embarrassing myself."

“Embarrassing yourself? Nope, you aren’t.” You shake your head. “You are giving me hope but don’t do it if you don’t mean it, okay?”

"Of course I mean it," he immediately says, not letting you doubt even for a second. "But I thought... it is a bit early. I didn't want to be overbearing."

“It’s not. I know we don’t know each other that well yet and we might change our minds later. I’m not taking this as a promise or anything.”

"Well," he raises your hand and brings it to his mouth just to place a soft kiss on it. "I would be lucky if you wanted me after all of this." You give him a confused look, and he clarifies: "This whole weird healing thing and my sad story." He snorts, belittling himself. You are not having any of this though.

“I think it’s…” You try to find the right words. “really hot, and I really wanna test your limits because I think your healing applies to your… recovery, too. Remember how quickly you got hard again?”

Bucky laughs. "So it's all about this, huh?"

“What? Don’t you wanna find out if I am right?”

"I don't have another condom, love." He sighs.

“I mean we did it without a condom before.” It’s the truth, but it feels so weird to ask for more after having great sex. You should be content with it, but no, your body craves more.

Bucky kisses your shoulder again. 

"I know, but we risked it. I don't want to make you take a risk. Even if I don't spill inside you..." You don’t like the fact that he’s right. What you don’t realize is that your face is showing what you are thinking. "I can use my tongue if you want." He smiles, trying to find another solution.

“The point is testing your limits, Sergeant.”

"My limits of my tongue count." He kisses you for a few seconds.

“You are so annoying, rejecting my offer, Sargaent.”

Bucky gasps. "I did not! I just tried to look out for you."

“It’s okay.” You make a move to get up. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

He grabs you by your wrist. "Don't do this to me." 

“I’m just listening to what you are saying.”

He frowns. "Then why do I feel like the bad guy?"

“Because you rejected this…” You show yourself. “A pretty girl’s offer for more sex.

"My pretty girl wants sex even without protection?"

“She does.” You purse your lips, feeling a bit vulnerable and trying to cover it.

"Then…" He pulls you closer and kisses you gently, holding your face with both of his hands.

“You love torturing me,” you say between kisses.

"Not as much as you do." 

"Wanna do the honors or should I?" He grabs his cock with a hand, waiting for you to move or just say something.

“Oh, be my guest. Do whatever you wanna do. Just pull out in time.”

"Promise." He kisses you before getting inside you in one swift motion.

*

There are no words to describe how tired you feel. Exhausted comes close, but it doesn’t cover the pleasure you are still feeling despite your jelly legs. You aren’t sure if you made the best or the worst decision of your life when you suggested testing his limits because you lost the count of the orgasms you had. You are ruined. Simply ruined by him. No man will ever compare.

"Did I pass?" Bucky asks breathlessly, holding you against his chest. “Am I husband material?"

You can’t believe he is still wondering that. This wasn’t meant to be a husband material test, but you gotta admit that he passed with flying colors. 

“You know we weren’t testing that, right?”

"Such a loss." He plays amused. "What did we test then?"

“How quickly your body can recover, and now we can safely say that you are not a regular guy.”

Bucky sighs. "Then what am I?"

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me.” You run your hand on his cheek, gently caressing it before giving him a big kiss. You wonder why he wants to be a regular guy. He’s perfect the way he is.

Bucky immediately melts under you. "That's not nice. You read my thoughts and use them against me," he explains more emotionally than before.

“Maybe we are just sharing the same thoughts and feelings.”

"We are a perfect match."

“It seems so.” You quickly agree. “And you are perfect the way you are. I get that you don’t know what exactly this is but it seems cool so far.” You try to put his mind at ease. “And no one knows about it. You don’t have to be like Steve, you can keep being yourself.”

"You're so sweet." He leaves a soft kiss on your hair.

“I’m not usually sweet. Maybe it’s the afterglow talking.” You joke to lighten the mood.

He snorts. "You're the sweetest person I've ever met."

“Now that’s a lie.” You keep the same tone.

"If that's a lie, I am a normal guy."

“That’s even a bigger lie. You are nowhere close to being a normal guy. Normal guys suck.”

Bucky's fingers travel to your belly. "Is that so?"

“No, no, no.” You try to avoid getting tickled. “Bucky, please.”

"Say you're the sweetest girl in the world, and I might show you some mercy."

“Fine, fine, fine.” You accept the defeat. “I’m the sweetest girl in the world. Okay?”

"I can't hear you." He tickles you harder. 

“BUCKY!” You protest, but he doesn’t stop. “I’M THE SWEETEST GIRL IN THE WORLD.”

"Good." He finally lets go, grabbing your face just to give you the sloppiest kiss you've ever shared. “Now close your eyes. You need to sleep."

You wanna be mad at him for tickling you hard, but you can’t.

“Oh, I gotta clean myself a little first.”

“Let me help you. Where do you keep your towels?" 

You already thought he was perfect, but he’s showing you he’s even better than you thought. How is he real? How did you get this lucky? You don’t know. 

“Just sit down, baby. I can handle those.”

"Let's make a deal: I change the sheets while you clean if you want." You wanna say no and you can handle those. but you are so tired. 

“Sounds like a good plan.” You can’t deny that it’s efficient, and you wanna see if he can do it right. This is the real marriage material test, but he won’t know until you see the results. You hand him the new sheets and leave him to work, so you can clean yourself pretty quickly. 

You really made a big mess. Cleaning takes longer than you expected, but when you come back, you find a freshly made bed.

"Ready for bed now?"

“Yeah.” You inspect the sheets. He made the bed perfectly. “Unbelievable.” You didn’t mean to say that out loud, but it came out anyway. “Perfectly made. I think I will have to marry you, Sergeant Barnes.”

He smiles widely. "So I passed my test?"

“Yep.” You move onto the bed. “If you can cook as well, I won’t ever let you go. Say goodbye to your bachelor days.”

Bucky pulls you to him. "Goodbye, bachelor days."

You laugh while kissing him.  

“Let’s sleep.” You snuggle closer while he yawns.

*

You have been awake for a couple of minutes, just trying to fully wake up and freely watch Bucky sleeping. He looks so pretty and innocent.

Long lashes, kissable lips, big arms. God, why does he have to be this pretty?

You lean in, with the intention to give him a kiss like a normal person, but god, those arms look so biteable. Before you can change your mind, you bite his arm and watch him slowly wake up. Then you start giving him small kisses: on his arm, on his cheeks, and finally when he opens his eyes, on his lips.

"Good morning." He gives you an innocent look. 

“Good morning, handsome.” You kiss his cheek again.

"Handsome?" His voice is so raspy in the morning.

“Yeah, handsome. Very very handsome.”

He smiles when you snuggle closer to him. "So sweet. I have a question. Do you have a toothbrush for me?" His eyes are semi-closed as he asks.

“Oh, sure. I can find one.”

"I didn't realize I will stay over. I'm sorry for wasting one of yours."

“Oh, shut up.” You push him a little playfully. “You can waste anything you want.”

You come closer to give him a kiss. You don’t care about the toothbrush or anything else. You are just enjoying being in bed with him.

"My breath smells really bad." He shakes his head, embarrassed. You shrug and give him a kiss anyway. You are sure your breath doesn’t smell good either, but that doesn’t stop you. "Such a stubborn lady."

“I just don’t care, and for your information, it doesn’t smell bad.” You keep kissing him.

"If you continue, doll, we might end up doing something else." 

“Hmm.” You act like you don’t know what that means.

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, hmm.”

"What can it mean?"

“No idea.” You don’t move away, you don’t kiss him. You just look at him.

"Okay then." He gives you an innocent look. "Time for me to go to the bathroom."

You kiss his cheek, giving him space to get up. He pouts a bit disappointed but doesn't say anything.

“What?”

"Nothing. So where do I find a toothbrush?" He finally gets up.

“I will show you.” You follow him to the bathroom.

"Also, do you have any allergies?”

His question catches you off guard. “Not that I know off. Why?”

"Gonna cook something for you."

“You really want that ring, don’t you?” You joke with a big smile on your face.

His laugh fills the bathroom. "You want to give me a ring?"

“How else am I gonna make sure others know you are taken?” 

"You don't need a ring for that. At all."

“Yeah, you are right. I was just joking.” 

He smiles. "Wait for me in the bed. Whatever happens, you stay there, okay?"

“Okay.” You raise your hands in defeat.

"Good girl, go now." He pats your ass before letting you go.

You can’t help but smile on your way back to the bed. If this is how being married to Bucky is gonna be, you are down for it.

*

"Come on, another bite. Please."

“Fine.” You take another bite. It’s delicious but you are full. So full. The breakfast he made was simply amazing. You might really need to find a ring to put on him, because he’s definitely husband material.

"Good girl, and drink more water."

“I’m so full,” you say after taking a sip. “The food was just amazing.”

"You're full, huh?" He snorts.

“I am.” You give him a look, not understanding what he means.

"I think you can take more."

“No more food, please.”

"Oh, sweetheart." Bucky gives you a smirk. "That is not what I meant."

“Oh!” You finally get it and start to giggle wile takes a bite of pancakes from your plate.

"Oh, indeed."

“You wanna?”

"Do you?" He stares back.

“You are so annoying.” 

"Annoying enough to get you to kiss me?"

You give him a short kiss. “Thanks for the breakfast.”

"I didn't have mine, though."

“You can eat this.” You offer your leftovers. You’re sure that they’re more than enough to make him feel full, too.

"But I don't want that.” He whines. "I want you."

“You can have me.”

"Want you on my face."

“Again?” You sound surprised. “I thought you would want something that you would enjoy as well.”

"Excuse you? I enjoy that." His tone shows that he’s totally offended.

“Oh, you do?”

Bucky laughs so loud. "I cannot believe it wasn't clear."

“I mean… I’m not used to that. Maybe that’s why.”

"The question is if you’d like to do that again."

“Oh, yeah.” You nod eagerly. “I would love that.”

"Then…" He places the food carefully on the table next to the bed.

You bite your lip while getting up and taking your underwear off. He watches you excited as he gets on his back completely, waiting. This time you know what to do. So you get back to the bed and straddle his face.

"Use me however you want, okay? Don't stop."

“Tap on my thighs if you want me to stop, okay?” He nods and you lower yourself completely. He doesn’t even wait for a few seconds. “Jesus, Bucky.” You breath out. It’s hard not to make a sound when he works that enthusiastically. He doesn't say anything in return, too focused on spreading your lips with his tongue. You moan loudly and start to ride his face, and you realize shortly he loves it as his hands help you quicken your pace just the way you like it.

“Oh, god…” You try to get support from the headboard. “This feels so good.”

He groans against you, so hard, thrusting his hips in the air because you taste amazing.

You start to move a little faster as you feel like you are getting closer to your release. His nose starts to bump up against your clit from time to time and that adds an another level of pleasure.

"Keep going," he says breathlessly before taking you by surprise and slapping your ass twice.

“Fuuck. I’m- I’m so close.”

"Hmm." He slaps your right ass cheek one more time as his tongue moves to your clit. The sounds you are making don’t sound human anymore. You are aware of it, but it’s so hard to care when you start to come so hard on his tongue. He doesn't let go or stop licking you until he feels you are done, then he gently helps you move.

"Hi."

“Ahh.” You struggle to find your voice. “Hi.”

He giggles while cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. "Feel good?"

“God, I’m keeping you. That’s it. That was my last drop.”

Bucky moans excited. "Are you proposing to me, love?"

“Well, not like this, and I gotta buy a ring first,” you jokingly answer.

"Hmm." He brings you close to his face so he can kiss you. "Maybe I will accept."

“Maybe? What can I do to guarantee a yes?”

Bucky smiles. "Who knows?"

“Maybe I should return the favor.”

"No need for that."

“Wouldn’t that help though? I wanna increase my chances.” You continue with that same joking tone.

"A little. What is your plan?"

“Give you head and then propose I guess.”

He suddenly blushes. “I didn’t expect you to say it so openly but love to hear what you think."

“Then I will keep speaking like this.” You move your face to give him a kiss on the lips. “So… You want it or not?”

Bucky nods and dutifully stays on his back, opening his legs more. You carefully undress him and settle between his legs. He’s already half hard and he looks so pretty laying like that, waiting for your next move. You start slowly, just moving your hands up and down, letting him enjoy it.

You lean down and start leaving kisses to him all over his skin. "Ahh." You move onto his thighs, placing your hand  on his cock without moving it.

"Gonna torture me?"

“Is this your definition of torture?”

"I'm a man."

“And I am a woman who enjoys what she is doing.” You don’t give him a chance to respond. You run the tip of your tongue from the bottom to the top of his cock.

"Oh, God." He closes his eyes for a couple of minutes.

���Open your eyes if you want me to continue.”

"Sorry..." he groans, opening them.

“Look at me the whole time, okay? Watch what I am doing to you. Think about this moment whenever you feel like giving up.” Then you finally take him inside your mouth.

"Oh, Jesus." His hands immediately get into your hair. "N-no warning?" You shake your head while your mouth is full of him. "I don't think I could forget this even if I wanted to."

You hum around his cock before you start to properly bob your head. You try to look at him, memorizing his reactions and see what he likes the most.

"Use your tongue more around the head, please."

You do what he asks, twirling your tongue around the head and watching him fall apart.

"Baby," he hisses. "Just like that."

You wrap your hand around the base after taking your mouth off it. Your fingers work on him while you take one of his balls inside your mouth, gently sucking to see if he likes it or not. He's so close as he bites his bottom lip. 

"You're a dirty little girl.” You hum in response, your mouth being too full to be able to answer him. "Wanna paint your face." It feels like the words are just spilling from his mouth.

You finally let go of his ball.

“My face, huh?” You ask before taking him back in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head once again.

"You're a dirty girl, and I have to a make you dirtier. Would you like that?"

You shake your head in agreement, then you start moving your mouth and hand at the same time, going up and down until he quickly pulls out when he feels he's coming. And just like that, your face and hair are getting covered. You close your eyes and for some reason stick your tongue out.

"God, baby. You drive me insane." He finishes coming and stares at the way you lick some of his come. You can only open one of your eyes as his come is dripping on the other one. Then you wipe it off from your eyelid and lick it clean. "And you will make me get hard again."

“We know that doesn’t take much.” You giggle, remembering last night.

"You're so pretty like this. I can't..." He smiles watching you clean yourself more.

“I am not sure about that.” You smile. “I should go and clean myself properly.”

"Should we take a bath?" He excitedly asks

“Oh, that sounds great.”

Bucky helps her get up. "Let's go."

*

"Look at this," he leans in to kiss your forehead, taking the cup from you. "Thank you."

“After last night and this morning, the coffee was needed. At least for me.”

"I am human too, you know? I need coffee."

“You are a super human.” You smile before taking a sip.

"I hope my tongue is a super tongue, too." He winks and takes a few sips from his coffee. "So good. Now, I have something and I forgot to give it to you since we were... busy."

“Oh?”

Bucky nods and brings his hand into his left pocket. "Like I promised." Then he takes out a small wrapped up package.

“What is this?” You take it and quickly open it without destroying the wrapping. “Oh my god, Bucky! You got me new stockings!”

“Wanna try them on?"

“Right now?” You are surprised by his request.

"Yep. If you want, of course."

“You just want me to get undressed in front of you again.” You joke while standing up. You don’t mind trying them at all.

"Don't act as if you don't."

“See you get undressed or get undressed myself?” You take the stockings out of the package while talking.

"Both.” He watches you as you put them on, fascinated. “How do they feel?"

“They feel really nice.” You move your leg a little, inspecting the stockings. “High quality. Where did you even find this?”

"Pulled some strings. Being a soldier has its perks, you know? Being friends with Captain America, too." 

“You did not!”

"What?" He laughs at your tone.

“You used your Captain America advantage to get me stockings?”

"Yep."

“Oh my god!” You have a huge smile on your face when you are walking toward him. And without a word, you sit on his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you. These are much better than the ones you ripped off.” You give him a kiss on his right cheek. “So you get a kiss.”

"So generous." He kisses you properly.

“Such a gentleman.” You pause for a few seconds before adding. “With dirty tendencies.”

"Well, I got a dirty girlfriend."

“Please, I’m pretty innocent.” You move away from his lap. “We didn’t even meet up in my apartment because that would be inappropriate.” You finally snort. “At least that’s what my friends think.”

"And you call them friends?"

“Gotta keep my reputation intact.” You shrug. That’s the way it is. “Oh, speaking of friends! I gotta ask you something otherwise Cassie will kill me.”

"What?"

“She wanted me to ask about Steve. Apparently, she hasn’t heard from him.”

"Oh…" It's all that Bucky says.

“Oh?”

"I didn't know."

“She wants to know if he ever mentions her.”

He doesn't know how to answer for a couple of seconds. Steve has never been into romance. "He's very focused on the future plans against Hydra."

“Well, that’s not surprising. If he thought about her, he would find a way to contact her, I guess.”

"He doesn't think about pretty much anyone, I am sorry."

You shrug. “I hope she doesn’t shoot the messenger.”

"I am sorry. Steve is very... particular. About life and work. He wanted to be in the army for so long, he doesn't see anything else."

“That’s… sad.” You reach for the coffee mug. “What about you?”

"Obviously not interested in sex or romantic life." He jokes once again, hoping that it would change the mood.

“I meant about life and work,  but we can talk about that too,” you say with a smile.

"I don't like fighting, you know? It's never ending." Even his voice sounds tired as he talks about it.

“I sensed that you don’t enjoy fighting, but I think you are pretty good at it. At least it seems that way, and I feel like you aren’t focused on the fight, but mostly on what can come after when this is all done.”

Bucky sighs, approving what you said with a nod. There is something scary and confusing about what the future. If he survives. What will change? After so much death and loss, what will happen?

"I hate this so much."

You have this urge to hug him and tell him it’s gonna be fine. Yet you don’t know if that’s the truth and you don’t wanna lie. “I hate it, too. It’s like our lives are completely revolving around the war.“

"Yes, but let's not think about it, baby." He kisses your forehead.

“It’s easier not to think about it when you are around.”

"You help me with that, too."

“Oh, do I?” You smile. “What do you think about instead of war when you are with me?”

"I think only about you."

“Another thing we have in common.”

Bucky smiles. "You're so smooth."

“Smooth? I meant I am thinking about myself, too.” You stick your tongue out a bit cheekily.

"Nice try." He snorts, amused by your comment. "I totally understand why you'd think about yourself, though."

“Why would I think about myself?” You wanna know what he’s thinking.

"You're funny, amazing, beautiful, smart." He kisses your cheeks. "You got everything."

“And what about you?”

"What about me?" He asks confused.

“What do you have?”

"Strings to buy you more stockings."

“Oh!” You both start to laugh. “That’s not all, though.”

"Right, I also got Captain America as my friend."

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Bucky sighs. "I don't have much to offer unfortunately. I have 4 siblings."

“Jesus, do you really not know?”

"If you mean sexually..."

“Not only that. Stop underestimating yourself, you have a lot to offer. Look at me.” He lifts his head as you asked. “I love spending time with you. It doesn’t matter what we are talking about, it’s always interesting. You are smart, funny, thoughtful and so so pretty.”

Bucky melts under your eyes. "No one called me pretty before."

“You are so pretty, you have no idea. These eyes…” You touch the corner of his eyelid. “These lines,” You caress the smile lines. “These lips…”

He blushes instantly feeling your touch and brings your hand closer to his lips in order to kiss it. "You're so sweet."

*

After spending a little bit more time in your apartment, you and Bucky decide to go for a walk. He’s here for a limited amount of time and he should make the most of it. Maybe you can stop by a book or a record store together, eat something he craves and enjoy this sunny day to the fullest. You don't even realize how close you are until you feel his hand touching yours, subtly trying to hold it.

You feel butterflies in your stomach. You did a lot of stuff together so far, but you haven’t held hands yet. Not publicly. Not like this. You open your hand, just showing you want him to hold it, and he does proudly. 

"Do you want some ice cream, sweetheart?"

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. It’s so hard to fight the urge to smile. This might be the best day of your life. The sun is shining, Bucky is by your side, holding your hand. You don’t think life gets better than this. 

“I would love that.” He smiles before leaning in to kiss your head. Suddenly, you feel the urge to say what you have been thinking. He should know.

“You know that I will wait for you if you want, right?” You can’t help it. All the marriage and proposal jokes aside, you really want him in your life.

Bucky stops walking suddenly. "Doll..." He sighs, still holding your hand. "I don't want to make you go through this."

“You think I won’t go through it if we act like this means nothing, but you are wrong.” 

"I did not say that! This is not nothing, but I can't be engaged to you and leave you behind like this."

“Who said anything about being engaged?”

"We talked about getting married a lot. So I thought..."

“I didn’t say I don’t want to. I just meant that we don’t have to get engaged if that’s your concern.” 

"I don't know. Either way I can't let you go through that." He shakes his head. The last thing he wants is for her to wait for him not knowing if he will survive. "Because if I die..." 

“If you die… I would be devastated regardless. It doesn’t matter even if we decide not to see each other anymore.”

He doesn't say anything else, instead, he pulls you to him in the tightest hug you've ever felt.

"I don't want to lose you."

“Believe me, I don’t wanna lose you, either.” You wrap your hands around his body, burying your face into his chest. “My kidnapping offer still stands.”

You hear him snort. "You're just making up excuses to have me tied up."

“Do I need to?”

"No." He breaks the hug and reaches out for your hand again. "My future wife doesn't need excuses. You're stuck with me."

“And you are stuck with me.”

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eeeeee! Congratulations! You deserve every single one! 🖤

Could I pretty please request:

Am I supposed to be scared now? In a Mafia AU. Vibes and item I'll leave up to your enormous, genius brain.

🖤🖤🖤

Thank you so much, Sam! 💖✨️ Hope you enjoy!

Worth the risk

Rated: E

Words: 992

Tags: Mafia AU; Hitman Eddie Munson; Dark Eddie Munson; Mob boss Richard Harrington; Secret relationship; intrigue; Referenced character death (RIP Tommy); Blood and violence; Knife play; Blood play; Groping; Dry humping

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

Nobody says anything as they make their way out of the Harrington villa, but by some unspoken agreement, they don't part ways yet. They linger in the driveway by the cars. 

Eddie knows better than to speak first. Instead, he lights a cigarette and lets the silence drag on, pretending to be brooding over the night’s events. He knows that somebody is bound to say something sooner rather than later. 

It’s Jeff who does, in the end. 

“Harrington’s losing it.” 

Gareth jumps and casts anxious glances all around himself, like he’s expecting to find the boss lurking somewhere in the shadows, while Frank shushes Jeff with a hectic gesture. 

“Shut up, are you insane?” 

Jeff shrugs petulantly, but he does lower his voice. “I'm just saying what everyone is thinking. That thing with Hagan? That was completely fucking bonkers, sending him to make that deal with the Carvers all alone. It’s almost like he wanted him to end up with a bullet through his head.” 

“Maybe he did,” Gareth says. “Rumor has it Hagan’s been making eyes at the son.” 

Eddie nods along solemnly with the rest of them. 

“All I’m saying is, it’s bad news,” Jeff mumbles. “He believes he’s invincible, that he can get away with anything. It’s dangerous for a man in his position to think like that.” 

“Then maybe he shouldn’t be.” Eddie lets the words linger, waiting until every single face is turned to him. “Be in that position, I mean.” 

Frank scoffs. “Yeah, right. Who’d even wanna do it instead? Junior seems much more interested in lounging by the pool and taking it up the-” 

“Nah,” Eddie is quick to deflect. “We’d need someone capable. Somebody younger, who knows how things work on the street.” 

“Someone like you?” 

“I wouldn’t know about that, Gare,” Eddie lies. “Just putting in my two cents on the matter.” 

Behind the garden wall, a light flickers alive, then dies again, quick as a heartbeat. Eddie grinds his cigarette under the heel of his boot. 

“Shit, just remembered I forgot something. Don’t wait for me, guys.” 

He feels their gazes on his neck as he walks back towards the house and doesn't bother hiding his grin. 

*

The hydrangeas are long past their bloom, decaying flower petals rustling under his feet. He doesn't lament their death, not when he knows that the seeds of something else are slowly taking root. 

The underwater lights of the pool bask the garden in an eerie glow, but he makes his way to the pool house unbothered. He has hardly ducked inside when a key clicks in the lock behind him. 

Eddie’s body moves on instinct and muscle memory. The key clatters off somewhere in the darkness,  and when the crimson veil lifts from his eyes, he has a warm body pressed against the wall, the edge of his knife licking at a shivering throat. A throat covered in the fading marks of his own teeth. 

“Damn, Stevie,” he hisses, retracting the blade and sliding it back into its holster. It leaves the faintest of cuts, tiny droplets of blood gathering against tan skin like dark beads. “Are you out of your mind? You can't just sneak up on people like that.” 

Steve scowls at him, face full of haughty disdain. He's beautiful in the glow of the pool seeping in from outside. He's always beautiful, of course, but something about the pale blue light rippling off his skin makes him look ethereal and downright unreal. Like an ancient deity, like a marble statue come alive.

“Excuse me?” he whispers, wriggling in Eddie’s hold. “What was I supposed to do? Nobody tells me shit, and then I overhear my dad talking on the phone about how one of his guys was killed. I just wanted-” 

“Aw,” Eddie coos. He leans into Steve’s space, scraping a toothy grin against the hollow of that pretty throat. His lips come away tasting like copper, leaving a bloody trail on Steve's skin. “Are you worried about me, honey? Why, I'm honored.” 

Steve pushes his head away with one palm against his cheek, but makes no further attempt at twisting out of his grip. 

“This isn't a fucking joke, Eddie. If my dad finds out about this, you'll be next in line for a bullet through the- Will you stop this?” 

Eddie lets Steve's thumb slide out of his mouth with an obscene, wet sound, nipping at the tender skin at its base as he goes. 

“Am I supposed to be scared now?” he drawls. “I'm not an idiot, I can look after myself.” 

“I know you can,” Steve confesses, tracing Eddie’s cheekbone with his thumb. It's still wet with his own spit, and the touch leaves a thin trail of moisture, cool in the stuffy air of the pool house. “But sometimes, I don't think you understand how dangerous this is.” 

“Believe me, darling, I’m well aware of the danger.” Eddie trails a hand over Steve’s throat, down his chest. The motion makes a drop of blood run from his neck into the collar of his shirt. He watches how it blooms on the white fabric, pretty like a flower, as he slips his hand between Steve's legs. “Good thing we both like it a little, dangerous, right?”

He gives the bulge in Steve’s pants a firm squeeze, and as always, the boy responds like the beautiful, needy little dream that he is. He rolls his hips, grinding himself into the touch, and wraps his arms around Eddie’s neck to slot their bodies closer together. Eddie bites down on that perfect, pink bottom lip and laughs against it when Steve moans. 

“Woah, honey! What happened to being careful?”

“What's life without a little risk?” Steve smiles, looking at him from under his long lashes. “And besides, you made me drop the key, so one of us will end up on his knees anyhow.” 

Eddie finds he can't argue with that.

More celebration ficlets

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Pebble!

Requested: Yes! [I just picture Silkie!Soap forgets people don't speak seal when he is excited. Like straight up doing seal noises and screams all because he found a really cool rock. But in his mind he is explaining just how it's actually sea glass and where he found it. Or something magical a mermaid gave him that will help his love be underwater longer. But you will never know. It's just a really cool rock lol]

Warnings: None

The sound that left Soap’s mouth was far from human, but it wasn’t something he seemed to notice in his excitement, barking and yelling at you as he waved around an absolutely gorgeous looking rock. A deep grey speckled with bits of what looked like different colored glass pieces all around it. He seemed to be trying to tell you a story but all that came out was varying volumes of “AR! AR! ARF!” sounds as he leaned in close to your face, grin so wide that it showed off every one of his sharpened teeth, made for shredding through flesh and tendon but seemed almost….puppy like in this instant when paired with his excitement and sparkling eyes full of wonder.

You were pretty sure he was telling you a story so you cooed along with a few repeated “Oh, really?” and “Wow, that’s so cool!” just to keep him talking, a bit like one would to a babbling toddler. He’d be huffy about it later but for now you just wanted you just wanted to indulge in his joy, in his over excited mannerisms, giggling whenever his arms waved up and down like a bird trying to take flight. For half a second you were almost certain that he would just suddenly take off, rising into the blue sky and right into the sun.

It wasn’t til he stopped, chest heaving and forced to take a deep breathe that he seemed to realize what he was doing, a light blush rising up on his cheeks, but still smiling so wide that it looked like it hurt. “Sorry.” He mumbled and you shook your head, placing a hand over top of his clawed one, stroking his wrist comfortingly.

“Don’t be, it was cute.” You chuckled, eyes fluttering closed when he leaned in to bump his forehead against yours with a little huffing growl, nipping your nose playfully, ripping another giggle from your lips.

“Am nah cute!” He protests, flipping the rock in his hands before nudging closer, almost knocking you over as he shoved his face into yours, nose twitching. “Am vicious! Terrifying! A predator of tha seas!”

“A cute little sea puppy!” You teased, squealing when he lunged forward, just narrowly escaping being crush under him, laughing as you stand and dart across the sand, your lover hot on your heels, scooping you up in his arms the second he could and planting a wet kiss on your lips that left you just as breathless as it always did.

“I want you ta have it.” He whispers, pressing the rock against your chest until your hand reaches up to take it from him, running your fingers over the coarse stone like it was fine jewelry or a beautiful new dress. It was far better than either of those things to you.

“I’ll treasure it.” You tell him, watching his eyes go half lidded. “Now and forever.”

“Now and forever.” He repeated back, though you knew he wasn’t talking about the rock anymore.

[pluckyredhead]

Red Hood and the Outlaws #6 (2011)

Hey, remember when I was recapping this series? Well, unfortunately for all of us, I'm gonna do it some more.

I will admit this is a pretty good cover.

This shit, however, makes me so mad. What an absolutely lazy waste of space. This comic is 20 pages long, not including the cover. That means that this two page spread is literally an entire tenth of the story, and it's used to convey...what? That Jason just fought some guys who were trying to smuggle nukes into Miami.

A two-page spread is meant to deliver impact: a crucial moment in the story, a stunning piece of art, an impressive sense of scale (Galactus looming over the Earth, whatever). This does none of that. Most of the page is just a teal gradient; Rocafort didn't even bother to draw an impressive underwater scene. (I kind of don't blame him, because it would have been a waste of his time, since this scene is NOT NARRATIVELY IMPORTANT.)

Also, the page before this is also a splash, and the one after is three panels depicting Jason caught in an explosion, and that's a generous description considering that one of the panels has nothing in it but bubbles. So now we're up to TWENTY percent of the comic, a full FIFTH of the story, and we have conveyed LITERALLY NOTHING except "Jason got caught up in an underwater explosion."

This is lazy writing and lazy art. This is charging the reader for 20 pages of story and delivering maybe seven, content-wise. It's shamelessly ripping off the audience, and they aren't even trying to pretend they aren't doing it. I don't know if Lobdell didn't have enough story in him or if he was trying to give Rocafort more time to drawn stupid little lines all over everything, New 52-style, but it pisses me off.

Anyway, Jason wakes up on an island a few days later (and a narration box on the first page established that this takes place before RHATO #1):

This page has six panels which is a very respectable amount, although I still don't think it's a great use of space. But I guess Rocafort was really busy adding wood texture to all the panel borders for no reason. Anyway the little pile of leaves Kori has graciously dropped over Jason's dick is very funny.

Jason wakes up, tries to demand his pants from Kori at gunpoint, and passes out again. He has a flashback to the world's most hideous Nightwing costume:

Awful. Also, Jason flounces off in a bratty little fit in the next couple panels, but I support him, because if you actually read what Dick's saying, it's meaningless filler.

See, now this is an appropriate use of a two-page spread for impact and scale. Much more effective. Imagine how effective it would have been if every other spread for five issues hadn't tried and failed at this!

Kori offers Jason some clothing, which turns out to be the hideous Nightwing suit, and Jason flashes back to Under the Red Hood: Shitty Version:

Who needs "Because he took me away from you" when we have whatever the fuck this is?

Jason gets all upset. Kori sniffs Dick's costume and says she can't remember his name, but she has fond memories of the guy who used to wear it. There's a flashback of her and Dick and Roy in action together. Okay, so she clearly remembers Dick and Roy at least somewhat, which is probably Lobdell starting to walk back the controversial amnesia bullshit in the first issue.

Jason tells Kori his connection to Dick and asks if she's mad, which...even setting aside Kori's memory issues and general lack of grudge holding in any continuity, why would she be mad that Jason has the same mentor as a guy she remembers fondly? Anyway, she is indeed not mad and they hug it out. If this is supposed to be depicting Jason's smug "I've been with her" in the first issue, it...really doesn't read like they boned.

Jason's narration on the last page further obscures things:

"Friendship and romance are really the same thing. Anyway LET'S TALK ABOUT ROY HARPER." Okay I know that's me reading with ship goggles but it truly is a very funny transition.

So that's how Jason met Kori! She...pulled him out of the water, and they discussed how they both knew Dick. Definitely worth spending a whole issue on that very interesting story!

[tumb1rprincess]

Literally jumped into this episode yelling "Get back together pleeeeeeeeeeease!" You don't know how much the cliffhanger from the last episode has been driving me crazy these past few hours. I could barely focus on work.

Yes Arthur, let's try to pull up whatever monstrous thing is splashing below the ship, ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID!? This man is going to be the death of me.

John laughing is fucking creepy, Jesus Christ. And he's already commenting about how the line between what he does and Arthur does is very thin and they're like the scorpion and the frog in the fable, oh God.

Okay, okay, okay, reeling from the last fifteen minutes or so from this. Just...everything was fucking horrifying. Deep sea stuff freaks me the fuck out, so a dead diver and a freaking tentacle sea monster thing and one of the cops getting ripped in half had me so tense. God, this has been one of the scarier ones.

Then Arthur gets shot and I literally went "STOP GETTING SHOT ALL THE TIME!" Like Jesus Christ, can this man catch a break? (I know the answer is no, but still). And he was so scared and all John could do was try to comfort him and tell him he wasn't alone, aaaaaaaaagh, I almost cried.

Being underwater when you're blind has got to be fucking terrifying, I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating. Christ, I could barely breathe during that bit.

And then that last fucking bombshell, just, WHAT!? ARTHUR HAS A DAUGHTER!? I have so many questions. Where is she? He's never mentioned her before, or a wife for that matter. Are they both dead? Is one of them dead? That song he played in the music store was called Faroe's Song, did he write that? Aaaaaaaaagh, I'm losing my god damn mind. I need some time to digest all this.

[covenantofthedeep]

forcing a smile and waving goodbye ☆

feat. | xiao, childe, hu tao, and raiden shogun summary | breaking up w them :( a/n | it's been so long since i've written angst omg

hu tao |

she's been together with you for so long that she can hardly remember days without you. her life's been split into two sections; With You and Without You. Without You is cold and dark, a cave in her mind where she vanishes during the night and doesn't emerge till noon the next day.

she remembers how, before she met you, she was just there--incomplete, always bouncing around, always tailing people. she was just that girl at the funeral parlor that somehow knows zhongli. she was just hu tao. she remembers how, just two weeks after you two had started dating, she'd become hutaoandyn. she'd become important.

when you sit her down at your perfect mahogany-colored dining table, your perfect hands cupping a warm, steaming tea, your earnest eyes staring into hers, saying i don't think this is working out anymore, she is convinced it's a nightmare. she lets the words flow over the top of her head, holding her breath so she wouldn't cry. she doesn't say anything (are there even words for this awful pain?), just swallows her burning tea and stands up. the chair makes an awful squeaking noise, probably scratching up the floors you love so much. and she thinks, i hope they get scratched up so bad that every time you see them you think of me. and then she had feels ashamed, and petty. she forces a smile and she waves goodbye, and then slams the door.

she sits in the car for what felt like ten years, tears dripping onto the steering wheel and the seat, her shoes in her hand, her nose burning. the sky is gray, the ground is gray, the clouds are taunting her. her fire is gray, the funeral parlor is bleak. there is no joy in steamed fish. there is no joy in pranking people, not without you.

glaze lilies bring to mind your love for puns, the way she would wake up every sunday morning with a fresh bouquet and a note pinned to them on her bedside table. her heart splits a little when she eats jueyun chili chicken, because it was your favorite. when it comes around to your birthday, she takes a long bath and cries until her throat is raw and her eyes are red and swollen. on her birthday, despite the party that her friends throw for her, she wonders if you're remembering her the way she remembers you.

xiao |

xiao has never been good with feelings, but he is completely head over heels in love for you. he would sprint in front of a moving train for you. he would stab himself for you. he would rip out his heart for you, except you've done it first.

words shouldn't be able to hurt this much, especially words coming from your mouth, your mouth which usually says, i love you, xiao. except this time, it's saying, maybe we should rethink our relationship. i think we need a break. and he knows that you aren't meaning to hurt him, just trying to move on, just trying to make yourself feel better, but that doesn't console him. he tries to make himself feel angry as you're talking to him, but he can't. it's as if he won't feel anything ever again, just the painful pressure in his head, the ringing of your voice in his ears.

do me a favor and break my nose, or tell me to go away, he screams at you, but just in his head. he loves you, still. he feels like a broken nose would hurt less than this, your patient, sympathetic smile, your cried-out eyes that show that you still care too. you reach for his hand, but he feels like your touch would burn, maybe it would make him shatter into a million pieces like glass. do people do that? do adepti do that? does anything alive do that at all?

he feels like he's drowning, like something's holding his head underwater. it's making your face all fuzzy. or maybe that's the tears in his eyes, or maybe he's tired. maybe he's so tired he's hallucinating the whole thing. but that would be too good to be true, because you're standing up and squeezing his shoulders and walking off.

he guesses that you won't have any more tea dates. and with that, he hurls his cup to the ground and watches it shatter.

raiden shogun |

raiden is unaccustomed to love, which is why it hurts more when you're breaking up with her. she had told you that she wasn't the right person to love, that she could hurt you, that she wasn't perfect. you had kissed her and told her that she was wrong, she was lying, of course she was perfect. despite her protests, she had fallen in love with you; your smile and your chin and your cheeks and your forehead. your hands, which hold hers.

she wants to slap you, make you hurt the way she does. she wants to kill you for how you made her love you and then you're making her stop. but of course, she can't stop. how could she ever not love you? you take her face in your hands and she melts, she slumps away. she tries to deny it to herself (of course you still love her!) but it feels like she's ripping away, like just a small gust of wind could strip her away to her skeleton.

bleakly, in her haze, she wonders if there's someone else. someone else who's stolen your gaze as she once did, who you think about at night and whisper stolen words into their ears. but then she thinks about you, and she realizes that would not be the case. you would be doing it because you would think that she wanted it, that she wanted space.

you kiss her cheek, and she thinks numbly, maybe if she was better at love, this wouldn't happen.

childe |

childe had never thrown himself into love as fervently as he did with yours. you could make him smile when he felt like he was dying, and your laugh had taken up a space in his brain reserved specifically for you.

he loved how the light dappling across your face could bathe you in such an ethereal glow, as if you were blessed by the archons. and, he guessed, sometimes you were. it's uncanny, the way your face showed no emotion as you took his hand and whispered, i think we need a break. his heart had shattered then, into a million pieces that dissolved into his body. maybe he could never fix it.

he stares at you, so blankly, you wonder maybe if he hasn't heard you. then he says, what? so softly, so sadly, it almost splits your soul apart. he thinks, probably, that no one will make him as happy as you did. perhaps he will never be happy again. this thought scares him, it rattles him, he never wants to forget your face.

he's never cried over someone before, but he does now. and the sight of his tears shock you, as if you've been dumped into an ice-cold bath and can't breathe. he's sobbing, hands curled into tight fists, waving you away, telling you to just go, please go, please, please go. you don't want to leave him, but you know his sadness will turn to anger and he will lash out. you press a kiss to his temple and he shouts, fuck off! fuck off and go!

as he watches you go, he thinks that simply "fuck off" might be too kind.

[lara-cairncross]

Hi!! I have two questions about your rottmnt fairy au, and I don’t really know if these have been answered yet or if you even have the answer to the second one, (which is totally fine btw! ＾＾). The questions may be a bit dumb but still. Curiosity got the best of me.

1. A question about Donnie’s damaged wing, I would assume it’d be quite fragile due to the damage it already has, so I do wonder if it could get worse. Like how a normal fairy’s wings have the possibility of ripping. I wonder if maybe Donnie’s wing had gotten slightly worse (like- idk a small rip or chunk coming of off it) before he had made his brace?

2. How does the whole apocalyps timeline work (if you had even planned something like that in your au). Because I had noticed you saying that yokai are fairies, and humans like april are just that, human. Does that mean Casey junior is also a human? Because the only thing I imagine is just little fairy leo teaching a full on human how to fight. (-_-;)

Btw I really really like your au! I used to watch the tinkerbell films over and over again (I have probably watched every one at least ten times-) and to see my current hyper fixation be mixed with something I really liked as a kid fills me with excitement! (Sorry if the questions may be a bit confusing I’m not good at this)

hi hi hi! your questions aren't dumb at all :D as far as I'm concerned, there's no such thing as a stupid question, y'know? I love getting to answer them ^^

Yes, Donnie's wings (particularly the damaged one) are very susceptible to further damage. Part of the reason is the fact that his wings are always on the outside of his shell (due to him being a softshell), and thus, he doesn't have the ability to hide them away for protection like Leo and Mikey (and partially Raph, although Raph's shell works a little differently, with his shell spikes folding down to act as a defense). That's why Donnie's wing brace includes that gold shell over his wings! Extra protection :) You're correct about them possibly being damaged before he was able to build the brace though-- I can definitely imagine the holes/tears in his wing getting stuck on branches and being pulled if he's not careful. There's also the fact that fairy wings don't feel pain-- referenced by Raini being able to painlessly cut off her wings in order to swim underwater in the Pixie Hollow books-- so Donnie would have trouble noticing if his wing was caught on something and tearing.

I don't really have an apocalypse timeline planned out so far. I do have ideas for fitting in the Kraang (which,,, idk if i'll ever actually make it to that plot point BUT WE'LL SEE LOL), but there's likely not going to be a future arc or anything. That being said, I DO have ideas for both Casey and CJ that involve them not being humans OR fairies... :))))

I'm glad you're enjoying it!!!! This is ALSO me combining hyperfixations lol, I'm happy someone else feels the same way!!! 💜🧡

[transfemlogan]

(both the same image one is underwater though)

@warnadudenexttime wanted me to do this so I did :3

IF YOU KNOW ME you know I don't have headcanons like normal, regular people. they jump around depending on the scenario or AU or fic. i don't keep one hc for everything. so this was a little hard to do because of how much my ideas will change brcause of the fucking phases of the moon but I tried my best :3

there is not age or height difference because they are the same person. whether or not ones older or taller changes on whatever, i don't enjoy like... only ONE height hc. i have multiple!!

OKAY MAIN LOVE LANGUAGES: I think Virgil's would be quality time. i thibk he loves to sit next to someone and scroll on his phone, while they do something else. he's a parallel play master. PLUS, this is shown at the ending of my negative thinking, when Virgil is just listening to music next to Logan silently in the living room. once he felt comfortable around Logan, he spent time with him. like . a cat.

i think logan's love language would be acts of service. i think logan wants to do everything for virgil. which is also shown in Fitting In, when Logan dresses up and plays along just to help Virgil feel more comfortable. I think Logan likes showing his love through actions because they don't require words & because he, someone who does a lot every day for people, knows how relaxing it can be to have someone else take care of you. i also think he likes it as a way to show Virgil how much he is appreciated and wanted here.

PET NAMES: I think Virgil uses silly petnames all of the time. i know i've already talked about this 20 million times, but his favourite is babygirl. he will call logan baby & babygirl for the rest of his life. (logan says he hates it but we all know the truth.) i can also see Virgil using those like, really cringey ? petnames idk the word. in private to be silly and embarrass logan. he's like "hey, pumpkin. my snookums." "my shmoopie"

(virgil: hey, pookie, we still on for our date?

logan: not anymore if you keep calling me that.

virgil: sorry .... snookums. my shmoopsiepoopsie pie.

logan: im throwing my book at you.)

i think Logan wouldn't really use pet names, but casual classic names, if he ever does. like dear. or sweetheart if he's feeling really sappy. i think Logan enjoys calling Virgil by his name or nickname, because he knows how much is held in that name. he wants virgil to know he likes it and that he's proud of him for telling them all.

catch logan cradling virgil's face in his hands and saying his name with such sincerity and care.

JEALOUSY: i think they both get jealous Super easily and need a lot of attention afterwards. some guy flirts with virgil and logans crossing his arms and pouting. virgil laughs and coos and holds his hand the rest of the day. someone asks for logan's number and virgils grabbing him closer and hissing at the stranger. logan kisses his forehead and rubs his shoulder. i do think logan gets jealous way more though.

EXPRESSING AFFECTION: i think they're both super reserved with their affection, but Virgil prefers physical contact while Logan prefers words. Virgil probably fixes Logan's tie or brushes his hair back casually. i think Virgil loves to cuddle with Logan and hold him close. & i think logan knows virgil needs verbal confirmation abt things. esp like at the end if my negative thinking, when he compliments him.

ATTACHMENT: i think they are incredibly overprotective of each other. they both know what the other has been through and how they've been treated. logan defending vitgil with his entire fucking life after AA & virgil defending logan in current episodes (if thomas had not destroyed analogical friendship directly in front of my eyes).

NOW FOR. THE MIDDLE PART.

confesses first: I think virgil would confess first only because he'd want to "rip the bandaid off" like he did with his name. i think logan would keep everything inside of him forever & never let virgil know anything ever about his feelings for him. so it would have to be virgil.

intiates first kiss: once again, it's virgil. logan is a little loser who probably shakes and gets red in the face when virgil sits near him. i also think logan might not want to in fear of making virgil uncomfortable and feel rushed, so he lets virgil do it first, but virgil is also worried about making logan uncomfortable and feel rushed so he lets logan do it forst and therefore neither of them kiss for A While until virgil finally does it like 2 months into their relationship. they are idiots and losers.

says i love you first: I THINK THEY'D BOTH SAY IT FIRST. i think logan would be very vocal about his feelings for virgil, in a very awkward nerdy way, because he's always vocal with how he feels about virgil. he wants him to know that he is loved & cared for & i bet he's said that he loves virgil before they even started dating. i also think virgil would say it at first in like a silly, joking way that could be played off as him being silly & joking before they start dating & then slowly saying more seriously & then saying it 100% serious when they start dating while he's all nervous & fidgeting & logan's just "yes. i know. you've told me that many times over the years. i love you too."

big spoon: virgils the big spoon. i dont care. i dontcare what any of you say. virgil could be the shortest man ever and still want to curl up around logan. i think logan likes being in virgils arms and i think virgil is so protective of logan that he wants to hold him in his arms so he knows nothing is going to happsn.

(logan: virge, please— i would... like to hold you in my arms at one point in our relationship.

virgil: absolutely not. what if something happens and i cant do anything because you're holding me. im holding you for-fucking-ever, baby

logan: what happens if something happens to y—

virgil: unrealistic. now come here.)

worrier: do i need to explain this one. hes got anxiety guys idk what else 2 explain.

better with money: logan probably writes out all his expenses in a little notepad & virgil runs to hot topic and 7-11 as soon as he gets a pay check so he can by another band t-shirt for 30 dollars & get a slurpee . it's his little boy treat. & then he's poor.

more experienced: NEITHER OF THEM THEY'RE BOTH NERDS WHO'VE NEVER TOUCHED ANOTHER MAN IN THEIR LIFE. they are awkward and strange but its ok. they talk about their relationship to the other sides and they all stare at each other like "why are they like 2 middle school boys in love for the first time" & thats because they are in fact 2 middle school boys in love for the first tims.

wakes up first: logan has an alarm & virgils been awake the entire night & has not slept in 20 hours

steals blankets: somehow, despite originally curled up around logan, logan Always wakes up to virgil being curled up in their blankets while he's freezing. even on movie nightnor when they're just sitting next to each other, virgil will snatch the blanket away

normally cooks: i think they both want to cook for the other and care for each other. you know that orange trend oj tik tok where couples will say they want an orange but dont want to peel it & it's supposed 2 see if the other person will peel it for them. logan's that green flag consistantly. virgil doesn't even have to say he doesn't want to peel an orange. he will pick up an orange & logan will teleport into the room going "do you need that peeled? let me do that for you." virgil's consistantly asking logan if he's hungry and bringing him snacks. they could be Anywhere & virgil will go "have you eaten or have you just been working all day?" & pull out a fucking granola bar from his pocket & force logan to eat it. they hang out & the 1st thing virgil does is get logan food. virgil will and has tied logan down to feed him food. it was a very strange convo when patton walked in on virgil straddling logan on the couch and spoonfeeding him soup.

And LASTLY... 3 SONGS FOR THEM. my analogical playlist remake is still in the works, but

arms tonite by mother mother — i think it could work in the perspective of either logan or virgil

And hey, you, don't you think it's kinda cute / That I (I) died (died) right inside your arms tonight? / That I'm fine even after I have died? / Because it was in your arms I died

I cry hard because I have died, and you're alive / I try to escape afterlife / I try hard to get back inside your arms alive

first date by blink-182 — 100% virgil's nervous rambling

Is it cool if I hold your hand? t Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance? / Do you like my stupid hair? / Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear? / I'm just scared of what you think / You make me nervous so I really can't eat

When you smile, I melt inside / I'm not worthy for a minute of your time / I really wish it was only me and you / I'm jealous of everybody in the room

loser by sunday cruise — i can see this as a pre-aa analogical song

I don't care much about you / But I wouldn’t mind if you liked me too / Kisses on your hands, meet me in the bathroom / I wanna be alone with you

I’m a loser just like you / Way too scared, too confused

[ghostedgrim]

Chapter 1

Awoken

Warning-death of child, heart gets ripped out, acid poured in eyes, abusive father, talk of murdering, child marriage. Story currently takes place over a thousand years before present-day jujutsu kaisen

When I was 10 years old, I started to see vague figures, transparent and of a faint blue color. They always made these muffled sounds that I could never understand. It was like they were underwater. For three years, I tried to focus more on these...things to learn what they are. Even at 13 years old, I never figured it out. They had a mind of their own, and sometimes it felt like they were watching me. I told my father, hoping he could help me, but he locked me in a room. The next day, I was taken to the town square and burned alive.

   I'm 7 years old, and these ghastly figures have existed for as long as I can remember. One chased me through the woods yesterday. I slipped on some mud and slammed my head onto a rock.

   I'm 5 years old, and these ghastly figures can't touch me, but they talk, and they can see me. My family is rich, and despite me being a girl, they teach me to read. By the age of 10, I still haven't learned anything about these creatures. I never told my parents. There's a feeling inside me, warning me that such a confession would lead them to killing me. At 12, I can see the creatures more clearly, and I've come to realize they are the spirits of long dead humans trapped in purgatory. I learned of a boy who also saw creatures nobody else could. In the short time I knew him, I learned that the creatures I saw weren't all the same that he claimed to see. A week later, I was sitting in my family's garden when I heard screams. Looking up from my book, I saw smoke stain the sky. My village was burnt to the ground by creatures nobody except me, and the boy could see. It didn't matter. He died, and now I lay on the ground, looking at the strange creature who ripped my heart out of my chest.

  Not all the creatures I see are spirits. Most are, but the others are curses. I'm only 14, but I've learned how to communicate with the spirits, and I can see them clearly. As for the curses, they don't speak, just make sounds, and I've learned to ignore them. The people in my village question my sanity, I've heard whispers about Jujitsu and curse users, but I hardly listen. Sometimes, there is this film that I see, and I never understand it. The film looks almost like a curtain where light is somewhat distorted, and when I touch it, all I feel is sharp cold air. I never speak around men, I dress pretty, I move with practiced elegance, I help my mother take care of my father and brothers. I was supposed to be married when I was 13, but due to the rumors of my sanity, I'm yet to find a suitor.

   My family is visiting a village that burnt down 15 years ago. According to my father, he had a little sister who was amongst the victims who died. As much as I tried to act appropriately, walk calm and quiet, I couldn't. This Damm spirit would not stop following me around and referring to me as her daughter.

   "Father, may I know the his -"

   "Why are you talking, Fuyuko? I told you to be silent," my father continued mumbling something before continuing our walk. My mother sent me a warning glare, and my three brothers smiled at me as if they had won a game. This is stupid, this is so fucking stupid.

   "Fuyuko? That is the name they gave you? Sakura was far more beautiful, my flower." The spirit circles around me trying to fix my hair, but her hands just phase through me. I try to swat her away but, of course, it does nothing. "Sakura darling, these poor people don't appreciate you, they don't even allow you a proper education. All they're doing is turning you into a useless bride to sell off for money."

"Will you shut up, and my name is Fuyuko, not Sa-."

   "Fuyuko! I should not have to remind you to stay silent," My father hisses out, and grips my wrist, "Who are you even speaking to." I had no idea how to explain myself. How would I even tell him I'm speaking to a ghost that claims to be my mother, that this entire town is familiar?

"Speak!" Spit flies from his mouth.

  "I... I see creatures that other people don't." My father slams my mother into the wall, my brothers start laughing saying mom fucked up now. I honestly want to vomit. Even the ghost looks appalled.

   "We'll marry her off for free at this fucking rate. Now get out of my sight," My mother and I stand frozen, "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

  A week later, we return home. I helped mom make dinner. We eat at the table in silence. My father announces he's found me a husband. Whoever bought me from him must've been desperate for a wife or concubine. Good riddance, I'm ready to be free of this shit hole. Perhaps I'll sneak poison into mom's tea so she doesn't have to suffer once I'm gone, father has already accused her of cheating. Poison is certainly better than rocks. After dinner my mother bathes me and I'm sent to bed.

  "Sakura! Fuyuko, wake up! My child, you must wake up!"

   "Hold her down, boys. Make sure she can't move or fight back."

  "Sakura!"

   My eyes are forced open by rough hands. My arms are tied, my legs held down. My father stands above me holding a vial. The ghost is utterly losing her shit.

  "Father -" a slap to my face silences me.

  "Just one more precaution to ensure that boy keeps you, I never want to see you again. You're a witch, a freak! You are not my daughter." He tilts the vial, one drop per eye. It burns, and I can feel my eyes dissolving. The ghost enters my youngest brother, and he drops dead, she does the same to my oldest brother. My vision is gone, I'm screaming in pain. I can't see, but I can still see the ghost as she kills my third brother. I can see their ghosts decend. My father ties me down and runs out of the room.

   My vision is gone, but I can see spirits, not just humans, but also the spirits within the plants, the trees, and the river near by, I can see the souls of animals. I can see a curse, sitting on the ceiling above my bed. I wait for it to kill me, but instead it runs.

~~~~

Thank you for reading, I intend for this story to be dark. There is death, torture, implied SA, cannibalism, abuse. Jujutsu is a dark universe, and that will be shown in this story. Also it's Sukuna x Oc, so the cannibalism is to be expected.

   I am currently writing another fic, and making a discord server and preparing for my high school graduation, so updates will be slow.

[satureja13]

Jack stepped out of the portal. So his version takes place in Moonwood Mill! And he is standing right before the Bunker! This means Noxee will be his guide! Oh he's so excited! (Since she lives here. Noxee was Jack's first crush.)

But no one was around. So Jack went to the cliff above Lake Lunvik to get an overview. He told Little Goat to stay near the Bunker. Moonwood Mill is full of wolves who would love a little goat appetizer before dinner.

He arrived at the cliff just at the border between night and day. But where is Noxee?

Oh no - he knows that smell. It's Greg! Why their former PE teacher of all creatures?

Greg: "Is this how you dress when you enter the otherworld? Show a little respect!" Jack: "These are my best trousers!" (Yes, now. Since he ripped his best trousers the other day...)

And when Greg asked Jack what he wants to let go, there was only one answer: "You! I want to let go of you! Go where ever you want but don't cross my way anymore! What are you even doing here? And where is Noxee?"

'So I went from day to day, though my life was in a rut 'Til I thought of what I'd say, which connection I should cut'

Peter Gabriel - Solsbury Hill

Greg: "Well, let's have a fight. If you win, you will never see me again." Jack: "Agreed! You must know, I never loose a fight!" (Well except against Kiyoshi. But only because Kiyoshi is his alpha and also fights with Jack's strength. This won't happen with Greg, Jack is sure.) And so they went to the fighting grounds and Greg transformed.

But Jack lost again! How is this possible? Maybe because it's the otherworld and the fight is tied to the offering?

Greg: "That was a weak offering. Your gain will be greater when you let something more important go, son." Jack: "Don't call me that! So - the most important thing in my life are my friends. I certainly won't let them go. Second is ... uhm... Pizza. (since their relationship is a secret, he can't say 'Kiyoshi') But I can't let that go either. But I will let my ... uhm let's say... 'weird obsession' for it go. That's my highest bid." (Jack is insanely jealous and has a lot of weird suspicions about Kiyoshi going on in his crazy head. Since Kiyoshi can't tell him about his actions concerning the Council and the Resistance. And that everyone (except Noxee) falls for his demonic charms doesn't make it easier...).

Greg: "Accepted. Let's call the horse then." They transformed back and waited for the horse. Greg: "There it comes!" Jack: "That's not a horse! What's wrong with you?" Greg: "Behind that girl! What's wrong with you!"

Ah there it is!

And it runs right past Jack! Just like Kiyoshi on their first date! Hahaha this game!

Jack: "He's wonderful! What's his name?" Greg: "Haha he's Lunatic, just like you!"

Lunatic: "Take that back!" Greg: "Sorry, pal."

Greg: "His name actually is 'Lunatic'. He's a Galineers Cob." ('Luna' = 'the moon' in many languages).

Time is short, the portal is overgrowing on the other side. And so Jack mounted and tried to steer Lunatic to the portal. But before they could discuss the deal there with Little Goat, Lunatic trotted right in the opposite direction.

Where they vanished into the woods...

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest

[hit-tab]

Guess who's back! Yep, it's @insufficientchill's Conall and @ritens' Lane! I took a few too many screenshots, so brace yourself. <3

Yeah, bud, that's the whole point of this party comp. I thought it'd be fun. Don't you worry about it! It'll be fiiine.

I'm sure Conall and Lane only have the best of opinions after seeing me fail this levitation-jump five times in a row because I refused to waste a harpy snare beacon. I mean, it's a jump over the brine so I can try as many times as I want without consequence...except for the rapidly dwindling respect of my pawn's friends.

Speaking of, check out this cool underwater shot I got while getting eaten by the brine. Neat, huh?

Here's a shot of Conall being awesome. Fire suits him so well! Mage vocations have such a cool aesthetic, I swear.

And here's Lane kidnapping a knacker(?) that knocked me down. It always tickles me when pawns do that.

"Lane, was that your arrow?" "'Twas not me." "..."

Guys I know you're very excited to pal around but please look out for monsters.

I think René misses being a warrior...

I managed to get a cool shot of Lane, finally. Look at him! He's so ready to wreck face!

My new favourite hobby...equipping a bow specifically so that I can kick rocky saurians. And maybe also other saurian-type monsters. I'm really not too picky.

The whole team is working together! Look how cool everyone is! It's so rare to get them all in one shot that doesn't look like they're all doing their own, random thing.

Conall helping me out after I got wasted by a goreminotaur...thanks, man. Sorry it wasn't the monster you were after. Where's Lane and René? Just over there? They're high-fiving and/or fist-bumping? Oh... ;-;

I was trying to capture a bunch of little victory poses and Lane was having none of it haha.

I don't think Conall knows how to deal with René's shenanigans, the poor guy. (Also check out Lane hiding in the tall grass like a wild pokemon pft.)

Look at these two and their lining up perfectly and their matchy bows. I forget what they were aiming at...probably a bat.

René, buddy, I'm not sure that's going to work. Max rank and he still isn't quite sure how to be an archer smh. Glitches are fun.

Er...Conall? I'm not sure we needed this spell for one teeny little minotaur that had a sliver of its health left, but at least we completed your quest.

René is way too happy about the meteors.

Camping: miserable and wet edition. The poor pawns sitting in the rain...

I had so much fun with Conall and Lane this past couple of sessions! We all got a little dinged up (no tank no real healer) but that might have also been because I went wandering around the volcano area and everyone kept stepping in lava rip. Nothing a little more resting couldn't solve. Sorry in advance if they complain about their burned feet when I send them back.

I actually did Lane's quest first, but sadly didn't get any pictures of us fighting the golem...s? I think we fought two of them. Yeah, one on the volcanic island and another in mainland Battahl, I'm pretty sure. Something about golems makes me forget to take pics I swear.

Anyway, this party comp is surprisingly viable. I only switched to my magick bow for things like spooky ghosts and dragonkin. Everything else was three bow one sorc baybee! SO much fun.

(I haven't sent them back yet! Will do soon.)

Bonus victory pose I have never seen:

Behold. René's applauding. And because there's an enemy in the distance, he's applauding angrily!

I love it so much?? He just-- looks SO mad haha.

[mists-reading-nook]

[Letter Event!]

{Game and Cult AU! Creator's friend on discord makes a Mystery Flesh Pit Au which is it's own warning! Small caps warning too in my own ramblings after this ficlet}

{This blew up into a whole AU ahdgdyej, and to think I intended this to be shorter RIP}

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

(Through diligent work, day and night, Acolytes Faruzan and Layla can now boast that they've broken a wall between them and the Creator!

(And what's this? Something called Discord where the Creator seems to converse with others! Is that a fellow God they chat with?

(The news quickly spreads as do the messages the two Gods shared between one another. It seems somebody leaked the Divine Conversation for the world to see. It's unfair for knowledge of the Beloved Creator to be kept secret as after all! So what if Faruzan and Layla think otherwise?

(But it doesn't inspire jubilee or elation. The messages the deities speak to one another bring a fearful awe amongst the people.)

~*~☁️☁️☁️~*~

[Friend] I just realized that I've been raving about making a MFP!GI AU without you even knowing what the fuck MFP is 😭😭😭

[Friend] Anyways here's a video that tells you pretty much everything you need to know

[Friend] Mystery Flesh Pit National Park | Wendigoon

[Me] just finished the video and that is the most horrifying experience ever and i never want to go through it again

[Me] what are your aus

[Friend] Basically Teyvat is worse of. Why? Well Celestia is the same as always but it's the Archons—called Underworlds here—that are different. They aren't gods, heck Celestia detests them because they're Superorganisms.

[Friend] Because of the sheer fucking scale of these fleshscapes, each Nation has religions related to their own super organism. Khaenri'ah had it's own, which is also large enough to be underneath the whole of Teyvat called the Abyss, but prior to the Cataclysm, religion dies down plenty amongst Khaen's Government and starts to view the Abyss through a more scientific lense, a creature instead of a god, hence why Khaen is called Godless. Celestia didn't like the Abyss not being revered and being questioned.

[Friend] Anyways, despite the fact that whole religions are made around these flesh pits, the Seven couldn't give less of a crap about the people. They barely even notice them, they just breathe and eat and do normal living creature stuff. Yes, they could walk around, be worshipped like deities, but that'd be too much energy wasted and they're already given more than enough sacrifices or meals to be sustained in sleep.

[Friend] enough so that they may not even need to wake up to feast (which worshipers would interpret as their Gods being displeased, but they're just hungry and don't care about you) so they stay where they are.

[Friend] They're still as intelligent as they are in canon but only want to do the bare minimum to live for energy conservation)

[Friend] Anyways, no Gnoses. Instead the Seven Underworlds are imbued with their respective elements. Buer is full of plant life. Barbatos always releases howling winds from his mouth and is full of even more winds. Hydro is underwater and produce water itself, you get the idea.

[Friend] While Celestia hands out visions, holding the element of your nation's Underworld grants the most prestige.

[Friend] Why? It helps you navigate the Seven.

[Friend] example: Jean, with her Anemo vision, can resonate with Barbatos and get a feel for how to navigate him, get a bigger picture on the grand scale of things. The more skilled you are with a vision, the clearer that picture is. You can also get an idea of what the Underworld is feeling.

[Friend] heck, people run expeditions. During the rare moments the superorganisms open their mouths, people with resonating visions join parties that explore their Underworlds, and gather resources, from the native animals to bodily fluids to mining the fleshscapes themselves. Resonator's are essential to these teams!

[Friend] It varies from nation to nation and person to person what is and isn't okay to take from their gods. The spoils are seen as blessings and gifts.

[Friend] also resonance isn't all that good, if you go too deep into the connection with the Underworld, it's MIND, you risk being put into a trance of some sort, where the superorganisms compels you to stray from your team, go in deeper, and become a permanent part of the immune system, killing of anything from outside.

[Friend] So the Resonator holds prestige but someone always keeps an eye on them, lest they be lost forever.

[Friend] Why does Celestia keep the Seven and Abyss around? It keeps humanity busy, everyone is busy with pleasing these superorganisms, and thus do not have the time to rebel against Celestia or anything.

[Friend] also I decided just now that the flesh pits were once known as the Eight but after the Cataclysm it became the Seven with knowledge of the Abyss being forgotten over time, that's going to be a big fuck up on Celestia's part.

[Friend] anyways, amalgamations. Celestia killed off most of Khaenri'ah by destroying the physical area and pushed survivors into the Abyss. Trapped, most people died off to the dangers, others became amalgamations that take the place of abyss mages, hilichurls, etc. They're killed and used for resources in the Abyss and outside. It's seen as mercy killing given how much pain they're in, or die with their unstable bodies finally breaking.

[Friend] A lucky few people managed to survive the Abyss without being turned into amalgamations. That or they're amalgamations who aren't constantly in agony as their new bodies work perfectly fine by pure luck.

[Friend] Examples include Kaeya and his family who are still wholly humans. Dainsleif may look human but he's an amalgamation who won the lottery and became immortal. Or lost it depending on your viewpoint of immortality.

[Friend] when Tartaglia fell into the Abyss, he was forced to become an Amalgamation to survive. Think Foul Legacy with more body horror and permanent. He's still completely sane with his love for battle but his shitty parents kick him out due to his state and lied to his siblings about a terrible monster that killed big brother Ajax and tried to trick the family. The Fatui is quicker to pick him up here.

[Friend] Sidenote, on the EXTREMELY rare occasion that someone becomes an amalgamation who is perfectly fine—like they don't feel any pain with their body and it doesn't collapse in on itself— they're seen as blessed by whatever Underworld they got transformed in. They also get fused w/ their element if they were an allogene w/ their vision on hand during the amalgamation process.

[Friend] During the Cataclysm, all Underworlds except for Morax and Barbatos died thanks to the Abyss thrashing around, causing catastrophic earthquakes throughout Teyvat with the others caught in the crossfire. Celestia was real violent with shoving Khaenri'ah's people into the Abyss.

[Friend] Mondstadt and Liyue were fucked, sure, but the other nations with dead gods WITHERED for a good while. These nations were built around superorganisms which were now giant, rotting corpses. The ecosystem of Teyvat was fucked for a good while. Then came the new superorganisms that ate the remains of the dead Underworlds and took their place as the new gods for Teyvat.

[Friend] 500 years later Teyvat is still worse off than before the Cataclysm but it's very close to a full recovery.

[Friend] When it comes to groups like Tenryou Commission or the Fatui, they believe they're carrying out the will of their Underworlds, be it the Vision Hunt Decree or rebelling against Celestia. They believe their Gods want them to do this.

[Friend] Except the Underworlds don't want anything except to survive, to breathe, eat when hungry and sleep. They're ultimately uninvolved with human matters. (Another reason why Celestia doesn't exterminate them)

[Friend] I don't know why people think they hear the will of their Underworlds though. Anyways, this Teyvat is not a crueler world necessarily, but a more uncaring one, that sees humans are irrelevant, not worth a thought. The Underworlds don't want to live as gods or people with agendas. The Underworlds wants to continue to survive another day and keep on existing. Nothing more, nothing less.

[Friend] That's all I got but I'll keep you updated while I create.

[Friend] nvm nvm nvm I got more, all the animal hybrid people like the Adepti or Onis or ANYBODY with non-human traits are either survivors of the amalgamation process or descended from survivors.

[Me] Damn. Neat 👍

~*~☁️☁️☁️~*~

(When Layla and Faruzan got their hands on this "video" attached to the conversation? Only a select few, high standing individuals were permitted to view it's contents in a meeting.)

(How horrible, to grapple with the understanding there exists a version of Teyvat, that is apathetic to the people, where blessing are made up, and you can't even begin to understand the horrors your God speaks of.)

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

{OR: The Creator and their friend ~traumatizes~ Teyvat on accident. They don't even know Genshin Impact is self aware}

{I cannot help but wonder what the national and individual reactions to the conversation would be. They prolly dunno what AU stands for but they would still grasp that the Creator's friend CREATED ANOTHER Teyvat worse off than theirs. And their OWN CREATOR THOUGH IT WAS NEAT????}

{As for reactions to the Mystery Flesh Pit Video??? 👀👀👀👀👀}

{Wait who would be present for the meeting?}

{Also to clarify on the Mystery Flesh Pit National Park | Wendigoon part, when the conversation was leaked to Teyvat, Faruzana and Layla only knew the video title and author, they couldn't watch or listen to it so people can only guess the context, giving even LESS perspective on the Friend's ramblings. Maybe people think it's a legitimate documentary on a real location? I mean they certainly think the Genshin Impact Flesh Pit Au is real.}

{After the leaks, security became tighter and the duo managed to gain access to the whole video. During a secure meeting with only a select group of people present, they watch the ENITRE video and take all the notes they can}

{Btw do not feel pressured to watch the whole video for this ask, you don't need to if you cannot or don't want to.}

Holy shit??? That's genuinely such a cool Au I'm genuinely obsessed. Idk what the flesh pit is,but I'm slightly scared to watch the video...

(More under cut)

As for who's present for the meeting,it's mostly government figures.

For Mondstat: Jean,Venti,Diluc (as from what I know, dawn winery is a rlly big money maker,and plus Diluc has that whole "darknight hero" thing)

For Liyue: Ningguang,Zhongli,Adeptus Xiao (and Yanfei,and Ganyu,as they are also adepti)

For Inazuma: The Raiden Shogun, BOTH Kamisato siblings,Yae Miko

For Sumeru: Nahida, Alhaitham

And for the nation's that haven't been released yet,it's mostly the same. Snezhnaya I'm not sure about attendance,however,some harbingers would be there as well as the cryo archon

Now,the reaction is mostly one of fear and respect. They consider this fellow God of yours a God of chaos,one that you are apparently good friends with. They gain a new respect for you as a God,and many holy texts are updated to include tales of your friend.

Honestly,many in attendance don't come out the same.

"AU" is now a more holy term,as it was used by you and your friend a bunch. Dispite not knowing what it means,many religious scholars consider it to be a term for different worlds the celestial Gods create.

Honestly this entire thing is highly interesting to me,and this Au is something I'd love to hear more about,as well as dive into how it would tie into sagau. This also got me thinking of how different AUs would tie into sagau,how certain characters would react to popular AUs like 5wirl.

[classificationhell]

I know you'd have to do a fair amount of speculating since we don't know all of the Sins very well (or at all), but what designations do you think the rest of the Princes would have?

Queen Bee of Gluttony (Beelzebub)- Ladies giving off Alpha, Master vibes, loud, proud, and in charge but cares about everyone else while doing it (even if only for her own gain but im not about to poke the proverbial beehive with any theories weve seen the Queen for maybe five minutes not including her song) and Tex is giving off Beta Caregiver ones, not afraid to put others in their place for his job but alright with being subservient as well, and he at least appears to like taking care of people in a way inherentlydifferent than Bee.

Belphegor- All we know is that Bee used the pronouns she/her and they're apparently close enough Bee often raids her stash of drugs and she had to lock them away and called her a jackass for trying in the first place. She is also the sin of Sloth, and her ring seems fairly peaceful if a bit incompetent with time management and undereducated if the fact that the receptionist at a clinic couldn't spell or read both likely stemming from an inherent laziness the demons in the Ring possess. Still, from what we understand she has the hospitals and the Ring looks pretty safe and clean otherwise, so I'm going with Beta Neutral. She likely wouldn't want to put forth the effort needed to care for someone, and while she probably would like to be doted on, even that is too much work if that makes sense? The laziest thing here is nothing at all.

Satan- We've seen Wrath and it's kinda country/ old western-y, but all we know about him is Bee referred to him as like a brother to her and she thought he was hot without his shirt on. This gives me two theories. 1. He's a gym bro who doesn't really care about his ring so the imps and demons have to make their own society and rules via western justice and such (This one would be an Alpha, Master) or 2. He's one of those horny yeehaw adult novel country boys, and iykyk >.> I'm talking ripped field hand and/or cowboy type who's down to earth, has a southern drawl, and sun-kissed skin atop rippling muscles from a hard day's work. My personal headcanon until otherwise, and this one is an Alpha, Neutral. (I am not really a big Twitter user so if we know anything else about him or Leviathan I don't)

Leviathan- Trickiest one here as all I know, or think I know, is that the vast majority of it is underwater. The native demons are shark-like, and that's about it. Oh, and his sin is Envy, obviously. Given how many shark demons become associated either with loaning money or the mafia, I would say that the inhabitants at least also exhibit aspects of Greed quite easily as the two sins could go hand in hand as with Envy enough is never enough and they will always be coveting the next big thing. So I'm going with Alpha, Master for now.

Mammon- He's a controlling, manipulative, douchebag who can't even come up with a decent original idea. His whole M.O. is raking in as much money with the least amount of effort possible. Any idea that someone else has that has even a modicum of success he will snatched up, theme parks, robots, rock stars, talent shows, becoming an agent, cereal, the list is honestly endless, the fucking money has his face on it for heaven's sake! Given how badly he reacted to having his authority questioned by someone perceived as lower than him he is an Alpha, Master of the absolute worst kind.

I hope this is good and entertaining!^^

[songs-in-nature]

>>>>> INTERVIEW WITH THE MUSE

REPOST and interview the muse. let them answer instead of answering for them. be as creative as you want to be. tag people whose muses you'd like to get to know better like that once you're finished.

What is your full name?

"Rahim F. Allard."

Where and when were you born?

"Ha, joke's on you, I wasn't!"

Do you have any siblings?

"Not blood related, but I have a friend I consider my brother."

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

"Most of the time I live with my Ma in the treehouse. Not like any treehouse you've ever seen, but it's awesome! The rest of the time I wander around, or sleep in my underwater hangout."

What is your occupation?

"Don't have one, but I would be a kickass fisherman. Or lifeguard. Or stripper!"

To which social class do you belong?

"I don't know what that means. Are you asking if I'm poor? Then yes."

Are you right- or left-handed?

"Right handed, mostly. But I can be pretty- what's the word? Am... ambidextrous! Depending on what I'm doing."

What does your voice sound like?

"Melodious~"

How would you describe your childhood in general?

"Like no other."

What is your earliest memory?

"A rainy day in the treehouse."

How much schooling have you had?

"Next to none. I can read and stuff, but I'm not the best at it."

Did you enjoy school?

"Eh."

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

"Half is from my mom, half is general life experience."

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

"Ma. Because she's basically perfect. You'll never meet a more helpful, sweet, great person."

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

"Great! It was just me and Ma, and I'm always on my best behavior for her."

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

"Still alive."

As a child, what were your favorite activities?

"Swimming! Exploring. Climbing trees. Playing games. Normal stuff, I guess."

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

"Cuteness."

When and with whom was your first kiss?

"My childhood friend, a forest sprite. I heard about new years kisses and there you go."

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

"Nope! It was years ago. I don't know if I got her name? Met in a bar, wanted to learn some things. It was fun."

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

"My adulthood evening out."

What is your greatest regret?

"Eh, I don't know. I've done stupid stuff, but nothing that's come back to bite me in the ass too bad yet."

What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

"Evil? I got in a fight with a demon guy who really hated my guts for some reason. Does that count?"

Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

"No record. Doesn't mean I'm innocent."

When was the time you were the most frightened?

"Growing up, thought I would die quick. Glad that didn't happen!"

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

"Most embarrassing... I've gotten caught in a fishing net before. Got out before they reeled it in, still embarrassing."

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

"Probably avoided some past 'relationships' if I had the chance. not all the connections I made were good..."

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?

"Somewhere in the middle? I'm not sure."

What is your greatest fear?

"Something happening to my mom. People leaving me."

What are your religious views?

"Never thought about it."

What are your political views?

"Ha! Like I would care about that shit. Doesn't effect me any!"

What are your views on sex?

"Fun~"

Are you able to kill?

"Sure. Give me a good reason, I could rip your throat out."

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?

"...It's a nice idea."

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?

"Who's asking?"

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances?

"Uh... Disrespect my mom."

Who or what, if anything, would you die for?

"My Ma. I'd throw myself on a grenade for her."