#This was not intentional but I don't wanna change it at this point

[foibles-fables]

This is a little rambly, but: Do you have any tips for people who are trying to re-learn media literacy skills? It’s kind of disheartening to see the number of people I’ve seen in the arcane fandom on high horses doing the point and laugh at someone else for missing the deeper meaning/metaphors/symbolism. It’s alienating to be humiliated like that you know? (Maybe I’m just still fresh jn my post-election grief but it just reminds me of how, when someone becomes open to new viewpoints and new perspectives, we should meet them halfway and encourage these new questions and developing skills, instead of antagonizing them back in the other direction. Does that make sense?)

Hi nonny!!!!

First of all, I wanna say that these are some great questions and I'm truly flattered to have been asked! I can't say I'm a total expert here, so if anyone reading has other tips, please leave them in the reblogs or comments.

Second, you're also so right that nobody should be pointing or laughing at someone who doesn't "get it," if the person who didn't "get it" is giving their genuine analysis and is open for discussion and other viewpoints. It's when folks on either side of whatever the divide is slinging start insults that conversations become unproductive--which in and of itself is not conducive to media literacy. I am so sorry you've felt alienated by any of the back and forth happening; that doesn't feel good for anyone.

There are four pieces of advice I'll give. (and this is NOT assuming you're not doing these already, nonny!)

First, consume a lot of media. Read/watch/play with abandon. Consume things that are easy, consume things that challenge you. Reflect on them. Nothing fancy needed there. Ask questions--what is this trying to show me, and did it work? How could it have been seen differently, and why do I disagree with that view? Having a bigger reservoir of experience helps you evaulate everything you consume thereafter!

Second is pretty simple--pay attention. If you're planning on actively engaging with a piece of media, of course you've gotta actually immerse yourself in it! I'm guilty of being a phone-scroller while watching some things, but it's a detriment to getting the full picture of what you're watching or playing or reading. To be able to ask the questions, you have to do the work.

The third tip I'll give is to familiarize yourself with craft, whether that's writing, cinematography, etc. It helps you recognize the hows and whys of technicality, and allows you to evaluate what was attempted and what succeeded, or did not succeed. This also helps you take genre expectations into account as you assess the story's/creator's intention versus execution.

Finally--and this ties in with your concerns--allow yourself to think about other viewpoints, even if your own evalutations don't change.

One thing I'll say about Arcane in particular is that the long (and necessary!!!) development cycle led to folks having a close-held ideal of what the next season would look like--and when reality falls short of what they built up, that hurts. Such an impactful show means a LOT to people and it's unsurprising that it's bringing out a lot of strong convictions.

[snakebites-and-ink]

Chapter 3: Start of a New Life

Masterlist

CW: Institutionalized slavery

Westwater looked surprisingly normal from the outside. Big, certainly, but not as extravagant as you’d expect from someplace selling to the richest people.

Nolan was brought inside and taken to an office.

The man in there introduced himself. “My name is Mr. Wynn, I’m just gonna go over a few things with you before we get you set up.”

“Alright.”

“So, you’re Nolan, right?”

Nolan nodded. “Yes.”

“Good, good,” Mr. Wynn said, shuffling through some paperwork. “Now, we have our superhumans go by only their first name. It helps protect their families if they end up being in public eye a lot or with an owner who’s not so good at boundaries and too rich and powerful to be told no. I know it’ll require some habit-breaking, but I’d like you to refrain from sharing your last name from here on out.”

“I can do that.” Nolan couldn’t help but wonder if it was also to distance them from their past, but even if so there wasn’t much to do about that.

“Great. Now, what’s your power?”

“I can create and direct electricity.”

Mr. Wynn pulled out one of his papers. “Can you only direct electricity you’re generating, or can you manipulate any electricity?”

“Some of both, but I have much better control if I’ve generated it.”

Wynn wrote something down. “Can you demonstrate?” he asked as he looked back up.

"Mhmm," Nolan nodded. He spread his hands and sent an arc of electricity between them. 

“Can you generate more than that?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to do that indoors.”

Wynn asked Nolan a few more questions. Once he was presumably finished with what he needed to go over verbally and fill out himself, he took out a few new papers and handed them to Nolan. “I have a few questionnaires for you to fill out so we can tailor your experience appropriately. Be honest; if you lie, you’ll regret it eventually.”

That was a little ominous. Nolan took the forms and started filling them out. Once done, he handed them to Mr. Wynn, who took them and said, “Great. That’s all I need from you for now. Lewis will show you to where you’ll be staying.” He gestured where Nolan needed to go.

The person he met seemed friendly, and more high-energy than Wynn. After exchanging greetings, Nolan asked, “Are you Lewis?”

“Yes, but it would be better if you called me ‘sir.’ We’re kind of sticklers for respect here in Westwater.”

“...Okay, sir,” Nolan responded with a hint of bemusement. He supposed that made sense though, given the purpose of this place.

Lewis gave him a dazzling smile in return. “Come on.”

He led Nolan to presumably where he was going to live now. On the way, Lewis pointed out various locations and explained a few details to give Nolan a feel for where everything was and prepare him for living here.

Nolan was shown to his new room. It looked like a fairly normal dormitory, and was a shared space with some other trainees. They introduced themselves. One was in Nolan’s same year: his name was Augustus.

“You’ll be expected to be up no later than 7 am every weekday, and classes start at 8 am sharp. We have a strict tardy policy so don’t be late. Weekends have a more lax schedule, but you’ll still have duties, so don’t expect them to be free days,” Lewis said. He handed Nolan a small stack of what looked like brochures and sheets of paper. “I’ll leave you to settle in now. The rest of the information you might need should be in here. If you have any questions, feel free to ask your roommates or an available instructor.”

Taglist: @whumped-by-glitter, @catnykit

[mr-payjay]

my thoughts on silver spoon & candle in iii18

[medicinemane]

I do wonder what people would do if they felt all the pain they'd caused in the world

Not even the big stuff, we're not even talking stuff like politicians being forced to feel just how much damage they've done, we're talking about the small scale stuff

All the off hand comments that were thoughtless and hurt someone, all the harm done without even realizing how much harm you're doing

I think if I could I'd like to know, I'd like to see the places I've hurt others around me

But I don't know... I listen to some people and it's just like... I don't think you even begin to imagine the damage you're doing around you. I don't think you even remotely begin to think about not even strangers, but the harm you'll do to people you claim to care about

What are you gonna do though? People are allowed to say and act however they want at the end of the day and even if I tried to explain I don't think they could hear me

[felixbit]

what friends do

pairing: felix x gn!reader w. 2.1k genre: fluff, a bit of angst and suggestive content summary: at some point a few months ago, felix kissed you for the first time. you didn't mean to catch feelings, but the lazy make-out sessions on his couch were melting your heart. warnings: swearing a/n: this is a fic i wrote on ao3 almost a year ago for @ppiri-bahng! i just wanted to post it on here. unlikely for a part 2 but enjoy :)

At some point a few months ago, Felix kissed you for the first time.

You'd been friends for years up to this point. You met him not long before his debut, so you're his day one. There was always something about the way you interacted with each other that felt so right, and it's why you became such close friends so fast. You spent all the time in the world together, and you'd spend every moment of every day with him, if you could. Felix had agreed with you once that you were soulmates. He was the best friend you'd ever had.

There was nearly nothing you didn't tell or do with Felix. He knew all of your secrets, little facts about you, every person in your life that was significant to you, and it was reciprocated on your end. You two knew each other like the back of your hand, and it felt as if nothing could ever separate you. There was nothing you wouldn't do for Felix, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for you.

So, when he asked if he could kiss you, you said yes.

"Hey."

Your eyes opened, previously closed as your head was slumped onto Felix's shoulder. The television in front of you had some romantic comedy movie on, but you weren't nearly awake enough to know what it was about. You moved your head off of the boy next to you and looked over at him, his chocolate eyes returning your gaze. "Yeah?"

"Would you kiss me?" Felix let his words out nonchalantly, which you struggled to tell if it was the byproduct of his exhaustion or if it was his attitude towards the question in general. His eyes never left yours, so you assumed there was some care behind it.

You shrugged. "Uhh, I don't see why not. Why, do you wanna kiss me or something?" The thought of kissing Felix hadn't really crossed your mind, aside from the few times you stared at his lips a little too long and wondered how soft they were. But really, you'd never thought that way of him.

"I might." Felix pursed his lips and stared at you, which you almost immediately picked up on what he was doing. The look in his eyes and his expression was one you'd seen a million times before, it what was Felix did when he wanted something. You'd usually see it in the context of him wanting some food or to go out, but the look never changed.

Your eyebrows furrowed a little bit, wondering his intentions. Felix never liked you in that way, at least that's what he claimed. "Is this just a totally platonic thing between friends? Why do you want me to kiss you?"

"I just.." Felix trailed off for a moment, tapping his finger on his leg, "I want to kiss you because I miss kissing. The few times I've done it, it was always so nice and fun.. and I thought you'd be chill with it. It's not a romantic thing for me. It's just something I've wanted to do for a while, but I get it if you don't want to."

"No, no.. I get it. If it's not changing anything between us, I don't really see why not. Kissing is fun."

Felix smiled and nodded softly. He let out a sigh of relief and put his arm around your shoulder. "Can I kiss you now?"

"Yeah."

That's where it started. The first time you put your hand on his chest and your lips collided, his hands finding their way to cupping your cheek and the back of your neck, pulling you in close. When you first found out that you were right, his lips were as soft as they seemed. An assortment of little pecks turns slower and into deeper, longer kisses that are more drawn out and intimate. You didn't expect him to kiss you for that long, but you didn't mind. He was a good kisser, which he occupied you with for three minutes the first time around.

Every time the two of you broke apart for little gasps of air, he'd give you these smiles that would break you. Something made kissing him so fun and easy, so addicting and great. The way your hand rose and fell as it stayed planted on his chest made your heart flutter a little. Fuck, wait. No, that's a little too much. A little weird.

Then, it kept happening.

You'd be sitting around in the dorm kitchen, cooking up a meal, and a pair of arms would surround your waist. You'd look down, seeing skinny arms covered in freckles, and smile. Felix needed kisses. You'd tell him to leave you be, that you had to pay attention to your food, but his little pecks on your neck and cheek got you hooked. You'd end up with food burning as you were pressed into the kitchen counter, giving slow, sloppy kisses to Felix for far too long. When he finally let you go, he'd apologize for burning your food and take you out to eat.

Then it was movie night again. Then it was in his room. Then your room.

Felix turned out to love kissing a lot more than you expected. Almost any time you were alone together turned into a lazy make out session. You'd learned the ins and outs of what he liked, how your mouths fit together just right, how eager he was to add tongue, or how he'd always smile into the kiss when you wrapped your arms around his waist or put your hand on his chest.

Every time you'd pull away from him, finally stopping, you'd often end up laying your head on his chest and your head felt fuzzy. Your brain hadn't felt like this before, which was utterly confusing. This was your best friend, but every time you made out with him, your stomach would pull flips and feel like you had butterflies. But, in your head, he was just a friend.

Was he?

You sat on Felix's bed, scrolling your Twitter feed and turning your brain off to the real world. The room was nice and just cold enough for you to be wearing one of Felix's sweaters, which was your favorite. He'd always let you borrow them when it was cold in the house, and they smelled like him. They smelled like home, always taking you to a safe space mentally and cooling your anxiety for a bit.

Peering past your phone, you tuned back in to hear angry phrases coming out of Felix as he sat at his desk. Watching Felix play games was funny, since he never seemed to improve much at them. He always got mad when he lost, and overjoyed when he won. It was obvious he was playing a losing game, and it would be over shortly. You watched on, picking up more about how the game worked, as he gave up and the game ended. He threw his arms up in exasperation, standing up from his desk.

"You okay?" You knew he wouldn't ever really be upset over a game, not in a true way. Though, you always liked to ask so he could vent his frustrations and feel better faster.

"Yeah, fuck, it's just-" Felix let out a long sigh, covering his face with his hands, "I hate playing this game. I always end up losing a bad game and I'm in a bad mood for a while. I don't even know why I play it."

"Awh, 'lix," You opened your arms, "Come here."

Felix walked over slowly to the bed, slumping his body into yours and burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your heart tensed, a warm feeling shooting through your body as you wrapped your arms around him and held him close. He let out soft murmurs, speaking angrily under his breath in an unintelligible way that you couldn't make out what he was saying.

You rubbed his back softly in silence until he finally sat up on his own, looking at you. You met his eyes, entranced in his beauty for a few moments before you looked at his expression. Your eyebrows furrowed. "Felix.."

"Please?"

Fuck. Felix's smooth, deep voice always won you over. As soon as he pleaded with you, you folded for him. Your mouth pursed as you tried to fight off a smile, looking away as you took a deep sigh. "Okay, fine."

Felix smiled giddily and let out a small noise of excitement, which hit you in the gut again. You leaned back against the wall behind you, legs dangling over the short side of the bed as Felix climbed onto your lap. You reached up and brushed a bit of hair out of his face, which he smiled at. Your heart wasn't dealing well with this. Before you could keep thinking, he pressed his lips against yours and you were taken into a mind-numbing state of bliss.

Your arms stayed firmly wrapped around his waist to keep him secure as his hands stayed planted on your neck and cheek. Your kisses were always perfectly slow and tender, Felix never liking to rush through it. The way his lips dragged almost lazily over yours drove you crazy, but you took it at his pace, as much as you'd like to go faster.

At least he was a crazy good kisser. You could never get bored of kissing him, even if you had to spend an hour doing it. You just might, as your longest kissing session went for half an hour with only two small breaks in it. Making out with Felix could take up all your time, and you'd be okay with it. As much as you hated how much you liked kissing him, it was true.

So when he finally pulled away from you a few minutes later, you felt a tensing in your gut. Your lips formed a thin line as you looked down at the bed, unable to contain how you were feeling. Every time you kissed, your feelings for him got progressively worse. You'd reached a breaking point.

"You alright?"

Your chest got a strike of pain through it. The innocence and caring in Felix's deep voice could've shattered you in that moment. You were a house of cards spilled all over the floor. You wanted so badly to tell him a lie, tell him everything was normal and fine, but you knew deep down it wasn't true. You loved him.

"No." Your voice shook, tears forming in your eyes. It was too much to handle.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here. What's wrong?" Felix stroked your hair softly, leaning down to try to see your face.

You pressed your face directly into his chest, a place that had grown to be your comfort spot. His scent filled you with that soothing feeling, but your stomach turned again and you knew it meant something different now than it did before. A tear slid down your cheek. "I can't do this anymore, Felix. It's too much for me."

"Too much for you? Am I making you uncomfortable? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," Felix wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

"No, it's not that at all," Your voice broke, trying not to sob, "I think.. somewhere in this whole kissing thing.. I caught feelings for you. I haven't been able to tell you because I didn't want to make it weird, but it was making me feel so guilty.. and I was liking this too much for my own good. I get it if you don't want to hang out with me anymore, Felix. I'm sorry."

Felix froze for a little bit. He continued to hold you and stroke your hair, but he was silent for long enough to make you worry. Your heart ached as you realized that this might be the end of your relationship with him.

"I think I did, too."

"What?" You pulled back suddenly from his chest, meeting his eyes.

Felix's brows furrowed as he nodded. "I wasn't lying when I wanted to kiss you because I missed kissing.. but I think I did it partly because I wanted to kiss you specifically, and I thought I'd fuck things up between us if I tried to make it more than friends."

"Oh, Felix.." You broke into a smile, a few tears still rolling down your face, "You should've told me."

"I know.. I just couldn't get myself to do it. You were in my head all the time, driving me crazy. I knew it wasn't what friends do, but it was the only way I could still be normal friends with you without going mad."

"So, does that mean we can kiss.. like, not just as friends?"

"Yeah."

[grugruel]

Your daddy know 'bout this?

(Don't be fooled, there's no daddy kink!)

Pairings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: A few days short of your 21st birthday, you decide to celebrate with your friend at the local bar. Unbeknownst to you, a close friend of your dad's is there.

When he sees you with beer in hand and in the lap of another man, things get heated. Somehow, you end up in his shirt, at his house.

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: pinv sex, passionate sex, forbidden realationship, violence, blood, underaged drinking, slight angst, cum eating, I love yous', mentions of masturation, tension, arguments, slight jealousy and protectiveness, pet names (girl, woman, ma'am, princess, sweetheart)

AN: not yet proofread, might be rough around the edges! Enjoy girlies🥹🫶

It was his one free night in a long time, and his buds pulled him along for a drink. He had no real objections, for he was in a good mood and it'd get even better once he had a drink in him.

The group of men emerged from the damp, rainy night and dove into the smoke tainted air and usual bustle of the local dive. They ordered their drinks and made their way to the back where the booths were, a jumble of familiar faces greeting them on their way. Until-

Bucky saw a face he ought not to see in a place like this. "Excuse me a moment, fellas. I got somethin' to take care of."

Their group turned to him, confused. "Wha-" and looked in the direction he was already headed. "Well shit, good thing her daddy ain't come with us." The group shared a few nervous glances, then shrugged and chuckled. "Wouldn't want to be one of those boys right now."

-

"Well . . . " a voice chuckled loudly.

She could see the source approaching their table from her peripheral, his form vaguely illuminated by soft lamp light through the gloom. " . . . Aint this a sight?"

She knew that voice, she could hear the telltale grin that shaped it.

Catching onto the change in energy, the giggles and boisterous laughter of their small group died down. Tense glances exchanged between them, all eventually landing on the intruder, all except her own.

Commotion continued sounding around them, their table the only to emit an unusually low amount of noise. "Anyone wanna tell me whats goin' on here?" The voice asked.

Swallowing, she realised she'd been intently staring into a cadleflame. She belived that maybe she'd have a chance at going unnoticed if she sat still enough.

"I asked you a question, doll."

She winced. That was his nickname for her. Fuck. She tore her gaze from the candle, snapping it to her friend across the table and gave her a sidelong glance that meant 'trouble' to which her friend nodded in agreement.

The low light that made the place cosy just moments before now only existed to muddle her thoughts. But, it could work in her favour. She carefully pushed her drink behind her elbow, hoping it wasn't too late to hide, and her friend followed her lead.

She turned toward the man, a cheap grin plaster on her face. "Hey . . . Buck," she spoke slowly, as if it'd somehow make him more agreeable.

"Hey there, princess," he grinned. Hat on his head. "Wanna explain this to me?" Pointing lazily to their gathering.

She shrugged, attempting to act nonchalant. Because admitting your wrong would confirm it's wrong. "Nothin special, we were just leavin', in fact."

A scoff blew past her ear. "The hell we are." The lap she sat on stiffened beneath her, tapping his feet–once, twice–in a show of impatience, and rocking her body in the process. The man then whispered in her ear. "Who is this guy anyway?"

She inclined her head, nervous eyes avoiding the big cowboy that stood imposing at the end of their table, and murmured a quiet reply over her shoulder. "No one. . . in particular." A lie, of course. "Let's just go."

The cowboy chuckled. "You're not leavin' with him, you're leavin' with me." That drawl could make the most steeled stumaches jittery with butterflies. Her friend must've felt it too by they way she squirmed in her seat.

She had to screw her eyes shut in a moment of contemplation. Why'd he have to be here tonight? Why'd they have to go to a bar he frequented?

She looked back at her friend with panic in her eyes. Boy, were they in for it. She could think of nothing else then to simply ask nicely, hoping it'd appeal. "Please, just go."

He smirked, putting a hand on his hips and showing a stern but playful disposition. "Your daddy know 'bout this?" He tipped his hat in their direction.

She pinned him with her eyes, narrowing them with independent annoyance. "Im my own woman, B-"

'What's it to you?' The guy beneath cut her off.

Bucky switched his attention to the guy, and she could feel him shrink a little under Bucky's gaze. "Hell, no need for that tone! I was just sittin' with my buds over there." He pointed to the group of men Buck came with, no doubt to put some pressure on the poor guy. From the looks of it, they'd been listening in on our conversation, and now waved to her, idly laughing at the situation, ready to jump in at any moment.

She shyly waved back, a tight smile on her lips.

"See, I just saw your little group havin' a grand ol' time over here and wanted to join you," Bucky laughed. "And when I noticed that fine woman in your lap, I thought I'd have a chat with her." He disguised it well, but she could hear the anger beneath his humoured exterior.

"You two know each other?" The guy asked, I'll at ease.

"Well enough." Bucky took a moment to look her over, a scan for any harm. But his eyes stuck on the short skirt and thin shirt. If possible, he looked even more bothered. "Wouldn't you say, sweetheart?" He glanced at her, and she could see the danger that lurked in his eyes. It began to dawn on her more and more how knee deep in trouble she was.

She cleared her throat, a nervous blush creeping up her cheeks. "Mhm," she hummed. It felt like he could see through her.

The guy's hand slunk to the bare skin of her thigh, attempting to mark his territory when seamingly he'd decided his dislike of the situation. "Huh, what's with the hat anyway, you some kind of sheriff?" He asked. But cut Bucky off as he was about to answer. "Either way," he waved his hand dismissively. "She's fine where she is. She can make her own decisions." And just like that, he'd successfully stolen the point she'd been trying to make.

She shook her head. Stupid, stupid boy.

Bucky's face hardened, any sign of humour gone from him. "I assure you, I dont need a sheriff's badge to take her home, It's within my right." He braced his hand against the table, leaning closer to them.

Her uterus roiled at that. 'take her home'

"Now, get that hand off of her, boy." He snarled, annoyance and authority resounding in his voice, promising a solution to the mans cocky demeanor. "She ain't yours to touch."

"Why?" The guy asked. "She yours?" His hand slid higher, squeezing her thigh, challenging the much broader man.

She exhaled, releasing a frustrated hum in early defeat, he'd doomed them both.

The cowboys jaw tensed. Silently, but undoubtedly steaming, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and pushed them above his elbows. The veins on his forearms pop from strain, knuckles turning white from his fists clenching. "Fella. . ." He began, calming his composure, then pointed two loose fingers at the girl in the mans lap. "Had she been mine, you'd be on the floor already. Now, that girl, ain't of drinkin' age, neither is she to be touched by a slimy bastard like yourself."

Fuck, so he did see the drink. She shook her head again, warning him. "Bucky. . ." A very bad attempt at dissuading him from doing whatever he was about to do. She could almosy feel the guy beneath her sink into the booth they were sitting in. Perhaps he had some sense after all.

Her friend grabbed her arm, loosely yanking on it as her anxious eyes flickered between the men in conflict. She herself sitting in the lap of the guy's friend, who was preparing to step in if necessary. "We should go before this gets ugly," her friend whispered.

"Respectfully, ma'am, she ain't going nowhere without me." The cowboy opposed, directing his attention to her friend.

No, no, no no. . . Dread filled her, he'd drive her straight home to her parents.

Bucky's eyes fell back on the guy, now shrunken and small under his gaze. "So. . . Stand up, 'n leave, boy," he spoke with the authority of a sheriff but stood with the confidence of an outlaw. "There's no need for altercations, I was enjoyin' my night. N' I don't wish that to change-"

"I'll call on the bouncer," the guy shot out, his face probably as pale as his overly white and fragile shirt, pointing to a man behind the cowboy. Her eyes followed the steps down from the seating area, and through the dimly lit dive where a big man stood posted by the door. The guy beneath her then glanced at his friend across from them, both extending curt nods to one another.

She wanted to wretch, he was acting a coward and standing up to Bucky with the threat of enlisting two other men to his side. She sighed loudly, making a point for him to hear as she eyed her friend. "Well, I sure know how to pick em'." And her friend, inspite of the commotion they found themselves in, covered her mouth in snicker.

Bucky narrowed his eyes in a second of silent fury, then answered with a laugh, not missing a beat. "You mean that bouncer?" He asked and turned around, calling a greeting to the bouncer, who in turn tipped his hat with a smile. The type of gesture that indicated a longstanding friendship. "We're well aquainted," Bucky grinned. "But im sure he'd love to sort this situation out."

If they had any sense at all, the two men would leave with what little dignity they had left and realise that they were already outnumbered inspite of being 2 to 2.

"Leave, girls," the guy easily dismissed them.

She gave him a pointed look, flashed her eyebrows, and jerked her head to the side in a 'you had it coming' motion, and then grabbed her friend's hand.

"Asshole," she sighed and steered them out of the booth, taking the cider in her other hand. Silly as she was, she thought she could simply leave, perhaps just slip by Bucky. But no, his strong hand grabbed her bicep as she passed by, and set his blues deep into her own. "Wait by the truck, I'll drive ya' home." He said, looking between the two girls.

"Fine . . . " She sighed.

"N' dont even think of running, cause I'll catch ya'," he warned, and she rolled her eyes inspite of the burning that settled in her core.

She tried to yank herself free, but he didn't let go. "What? You wanna hear a 'yes sir'?" She dared the words, teasing, as nervousity built in her gut.

His eyes searched hers, a slow grin spreading over his lips as he leaned closer, bending down to whisper in hear ear. "Dont get cocky with me, girl." And his hand began sliding downward, making her shiver, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch.

She swallowed, that tone, the hat? God. Her uterus purred, and in a sudden surge on confidence, she answered. "No, sir."

He grabbed the glass bottle from her hand and grinned, taking a sip. "Good, girl. Now go." And pointed to the door.

Would it be wrong to say she started salivating? His words, together with his lips making contact with the same surface she had? There was something about it, something that made her . . . Pulse.

Bucky whistled and his friend–the bouncer–came bounding up the steps, him along with the group of dad's and bucky's friends only a few steps behind.

The bouncer tipped his hat to her and her friend in passing, a smirk on his lips. Nice to know there was still some gentlemen in the world.

She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He was quite handsome too.

"Dont even think 'bout it," Bucky warned.

She rolled her eyes, and then they were finally on their way out, meeting Bucky's group of friends on the way, all nodding and greeting her. "Tell your daddy we missed him tonight." One said, and they all chuckled.

The girls hurried off, giggling. But anxiety lingered in the depths of her chest. Those men were rogue witnesses in all of this.

As she held the door open, voices raised behind them. She could see the crowd turning to look in Buckys direction, anf she herself followed their gazes. And found them just in time to see Bucky's knuckles collide with the jaw of the guy she'd spent her night on, sending him sprawling.

-

Plunging into the deep night, the cold swept over them. "He's hot, ain't he?"

She didn't want to answer, or simply didn't want to admit it and just gave her friend a look of understanding.

"God, I was ready to pounce on him the second he called me ma'am."

The girl understood that too.

-

After about ten minutes wait, Bucky emerged from the bar. Unscathed, apart form bloody knuckles and dark cloud around his head. Before even saying a thing, he'd already removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I only got one of them. Apologies, ma'am," he told her friend and opened the truck door for them both. "The truck'll warm you up."

"Thats ok, thank you," her friend answered, and the girls shared a knowing look. Their thoughts connecting in fiendish collectivity.

"Alright, get in. We'd better get goin'."

-

The ride was relatively quiet. We knew better than to anger him further. Anxiety was growing within her, though, she didnt wanna know what would happen when her friend was let off.

"Text me ok? I'll se ya' later." Her friend said, eyeing Bucky. She leaned her head through the open window of the truck. "But- let me know how that goes," she whispered. "And good luck." She raised her eyebrows with a smirk on her lips.

The girl rolled her yes. "Sure will." And with one last wave, they were off.

-

When there were only the two of them, they could say whatever they wanted with confidence. But so far, there'd only been a few sighs and breaths of shared irritation. Neither of them were particularly pleased with the situation.

But she wanted to be the first to speak. "I'll be 21 in a few days, Buck."

"Doesn't mean you have good judgement."

She bristled. "I'm not a little girl anymore!"

" 'Course not, I can tell by the way you dress. That what a grown woman look like to you?" He nodded to her body, barely covered apart from his thick jacket over her torso.

She pulled it closer around herself. "Like what exactly? What do I look like to you? A slut, a hooker?" Her face stung from embaressment. She felt like a child again, being berated for something she wasn't able to puzzle together by herself.

He clicked his tongue, jerking his head to the side. His patience was running thin. "Dont twist my words, doll. I'm callin you careless."

"That dont matter comin' from you, you're not my daddy." She knew the comment would get a rise out of him, because she knew he'd ment no ill intent, and she knew he cared for her. But she was mad, and so was he.

"No, n' you should thank fucking god he wasn't there to bust you. I was the better option, I can promise you that."

She exhaled a frustrated breath, turning her attention toward the windshield. Watching droplets of water paving their way over the condensation covered glass. "You weren't the only one to bust me, though, were you?" She spoke lowly, feeling like a coward for even asking. "The boys gonna say something?"

He gripped the steering wheel harder, his roughed up knuckles tearing. "I told em' I'd take care of it." It must've stung, but he took no notice. Other things pestered his mind.

Worry mixed in with all other emotions as her gaze drifted to his hands, and her mind immidetly moved into recovery mode. "So what's that mean, you gonna tattle on me now?"

He looked over at her, brows furrowed right beneath the rim of his hat. He couldnt begin to understand her. "That all you care about?"

"Right now? Well, yeah. I dont want a scolding."

"All grown and still daddy's little girl, worried about his opinions."

"And if I say yes, what then, girl?

"I dunno, m' gonna have to convince you not to."

"Like you convinced that guy to buy you beer, huh? What'd you do, flirt with him? Give him a handjob, suck him off? What did I miss before catching you?"

Her mouth hung open in disbelief. "You fucking asshole!" She shook from anger, she never expected words like that to be thrown at her. Especially not by him. But she'd get him back, there was no reason behind her actions now. "Maybe I would've, I even bet it would've worked if I'd asked you. Right? You would've just loved having your friends pretty daughter gettin' you off, huh!" She half shouted the last sentence, her chest heaving with effort and fury.

"That's enough." His tone was unforgiving, shooting a sense of reality back into her.

"I'll shut up if you answer the god damned question Buck, would it have worked?"

But Bucky didn't answer, his jaw clenched and unclenched, biting back his words. If she thought the silence had been bad before? It was deafening now.

After calming down again, her words hit her like a freight train. She always had a friend in Buck, but now she wasn't sure. The words that'd been thrown back and forth had set them off balance, their entire relationship was on unsteady ground. Something had been rewritten in the rules between them.

There'd always been attraction, but that wasn't something they ever spoke of. They'd always been close, good friends even. But now, something had changed. And it made her feel sick. She'd had an ally in him, but now, she wasn't so certain.

After a long whole of shutting her mouth out of stubbornness, the fate of her father finding out was worse, so she broke. "Please don't bring me home, Buck. Dad'll throw a fit." She tried to smile, to soften her voice. But it felt wrong.

After a moments uncertainty on her part, and strained breathing on his, he spoke. "Im not makin' the detour, you can sleep at mine, that was always the plan anyway." He admitted, sounding utterly tired.

And now she felt extremely guilty, eyes studying him as he gripped the steering wheel harder. Her gaze drifted over his body, his face, his hands. Stopping on the roughed up and bloody knuckles. He'd beaten that guy for her. Out of jealousy, or simply because he was protective?

She turned away, her chest feeling hollow and followed the birches and sprucetress as they flashed by the truck. Their colors and textures blending together as they met the dark consistent sky above them.

Bucky's house was dark, he only lit a few tablelamps when they arrived. It was better that way, she recognized herself here, within the gloom and the safety of his home. It was second to her own.

"I'll get your something more comfortable," he said, his eyes avoiding her clothes, her body as a whole and disappeared into his bedroom.

Was it because he thought they didn't fit her, or the opposite? Had he been mad at himself for being attracted to her?

She nodded slowly, calling out to him, "we should do something about that hand of yours."

"It's fine, I'm fine." He said, re-emerging, meeting her eyes. "Here," he handed here a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, most likely too big for her. "I'll take the couch, n' you can take my bed."

She nodded again, and headed into the bathroom.

Buckys t-shirt was longer on her than the skirt she'd worn, so she opted out of the shorts. Luckily findig a roll of gauze in the bathroom cabinet.

She emerged from the bathroom, a pair of panties and the oversized t-shirt the only things on her body. "You want something to-" Bucky paused as she rounded the corner, and suddenly she herself stopped short–caught off guard.

Bucky stared at her, and whatever he'd been about to say was lost the second he looked up. Bucky cleared his throat, and with the weight of a 15 year long friendship on his shoulders, his eyes stayed glued to hers.

Inwardly, she smiled and hoped the lowly lit livingroom couldn't reveal the blush on her cheeks. "Found some gauze," she held the roll up, indirectly asking for permission to bandage him.

He opened his mouth to decline, she could even see his head begin to shake in dismissal.

But she cut in before he had the chance. "Just let me help, you can be mad and still let me help."

His eyes hardened, but hesitantly, he nodded all the same. "Im fine, doll."

She raised her brows with skepticism and made her way toward him, the fabric of buckys shirt doing its best at showcasing her breats.

Bucky clenched his fist in an attempt to control himself, he winced, the wounds on his knuckles re-opening.

"Yeah," she scoffed. "Sure seems fine to me." And placed herself infront of him. From his position on the couch, he had to look up at her. At that, a flicker of heat blazed in her core. Oh, those eyes. His big, pleading eyes, all sad and hurt. Did he want her gone or want her in some other way?

She kneeled, settling between his thighs and grabbed his hand. "You don't got to be so stubborn all the time. . . Just wanna help you." She wrapped his hand carefully, enjoying every second of his corse skin over hers. Once done, he tried flexing his hand, and winced again. He still hurt, that much was clear, but was too proud to admit it. "Want me to kiss it better?" She joked, hoping it would lighten the mood. But he did that thing again, where he said nothing, and instead clenched his jaw, as if holding back a yes. So she took her chance.

Keeping their eyes locked, she brought his wrapped knuckles to her lips, and kissed them through the bandage once, then moving further up to kiss the softer skin of the back of his hand. Again, his eyes were pleading, and he moved the hand to cup her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. She took it as encouragement and kissed his palm, his wrist, his forearm. She stood up on her knees, kissing his bicep and reached for his shirt to pull him closer. She cupped his face and brought him inches from her own, nuzzling her nose against his.

Finally, when her lips reached for his, he pulled away. "Stop, stop," he nudged his forehead against hers. "We can't," he moved his lips away, cheek to cheek, he kissed the soft spot in front of her ear. "We can't."

"Cant, or wont?" She asked dully.

Those pleading eyes were back, begging her not to make him answer that question. She nodded absentmindedly, pulled into her thoughts. She stood up and moved away from him, his hand sliding down her arm and locking around her wrist, stopping her. "Dont leave."

"I'm comin' back."

After a few minutes of bustling in the kitchen, she returned to him. Sidling up next to him on the couch, her curled up legs lulling into his lap as she handed him a whiskey glass, then cradled her own. He whispered a thank you, looking into her eyes, and she whispered a you're welcome, looking into his. Then they sat like that for a while, quiet, unmoving. Bucky's hands finding their home on her legs, glas in one hand and her knee in the other. Somehow, this wasn't crossing a line for them, this was their normal, this was something not even her family questioned, this was them.

"Im sorry, doll." he said finally. "I never meant to imply-"

"It's ok, Buck." He opened his mouth to speak again, but she stopped him. "Really, It's fine. I'd rather not dwell on it."

Another moments silence passed between them, it was uncomfortable, but the unsaid lingered in the air like a thick wall between them, and hung over them with the threat of smothering. "We need to talk about us."

"I didn't like the way he was touchin' you," he said, choosing the topic before she had a chance at it. If he had to approach them, he would do it indirectly. "It didn't look like you were enjoyin' it."

Her eyebrows raised, "You would've punched him even if I were enjoying it." She commented sourley.

He squeezed her knee, gently rubbing circles into the skin beside. "He acted like he owned you," He turned his unscathed hand upside down, brushing his knuckles up and down her sensitive skin.

It all went straight to her head, veins throbbed with heat she didn't know she could feel. All brought out by a single touch of his hand.

But she wouldn't let off. "And what do you 'spouse beating him for it is?"

He stayed silent, his hand turned again, this time to grab her soft flesh, squeezing it with purpose. Much like the guy had done, but this felt different. This felt good, real good.

She swallowed, closing her eyes to focus on the words she needed to say. "What made you think you had the right? If not that I already belonged to–" she stopped, and their eyes met in a quick glance.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "I was only protectin' you." He defended, but it didn't quite sound like he believed the words himself. Nor did she. But if he wasn't ready to see it as it was, she wouldn't pressure him.

Instead, she laid her head on his shoulder. "It shouldn't be this hard."

He shook his head, the words seemingly struck a cord within him. For he sat insilence, pondering, a long while. "I would've said no, you know. And it would've killed me." She looked at him strangely, forgetting what he was referring to for a moment. "I would've said yes, if you hadn't felt forced to it, like it was a last resort to keep your secret."

Oh. . . "Had I wanted it, you'd said yes?" She stared unbelieving into the dark space infront of them.

"Nothin' could stand in my way." He slid his hand further up her thigh, fingers exploring the skin just beneath the hem of his/her shirt.

She sat up straight to look at him properly, she couldn't tell if he was serious. "You want me?"

"More than anything," his voice was breathless, barely a whisper. His index and long finger reaching further up, exploring more than he'd ever dared. "Cant even explain how many times I imagined you gettin' me off after you said it. How much I hated the thought, the sight of you with that guy, his hands all on you."

A pang of need shot through her. She put her whiskey down, and braced her hands against his chest. "But why tell me now, whats changed? Whats changed in this last hour?" His fingers rubbed the skin of her hips beneath her panties, sending shivers running over her body, shivers she'd only previously dreamed he'd be the cause of.

"You're right, it shouldn't be this hard. I'm makin' it too hard." His hand slid to her waist, still invisible to him, but no longer untouchable. Magnetically, they were pulled together, faces inching closer and closer to oneanother.

"And what about daddy?" It was becoming hard to focus, she wouldn't stop him for the world. Bow, they were close enough to feel the dampness of their breaths.

His hand continued exploring farthur up, fingertips finally reaching the soft, plush flesh below her breast. "Your daddy ain't here, is he?"

She began shaking her head in disbelief, lips brushing against eachother. "Dont promise something if you can't follow through."

His hand stopped, "I can, please," he begged, waiting for her go-ahead. "I can. . ."

His words vibrated against her skin, electrifying her body. "Fuck," she moaned, he's right there. Right, there, infront of her, for her. "Then do, please do, Buck."

And just like that, both hands were beneath her shirt, pulling her into his lips and squeezing her breasts.

Breathless moans filled the silent air, they tore at eachother greedily. Pulling and pushing eachothers bodies, fighting to get Bucky free of his clothes.

Snaking one arm behind her back, he guided her down onto cushions and placed himself above her. Still clothed by jeans, he rolled his hips against her core, grinding the rough fabric against her barely clothed clit. This, is what she had been craving. The exact static friction, the heat and movement between their bodies producing all the pleasure she needed. She moaned heavily, beacause still, she wanted more. Pulling her legs up and her panties off, she wordlessly signaled for him to do the rest.

With a groan, Bucky dove into her neck, kissing and sucking, all the while he unzipped his jeans and pulled them off together with his boxers. No time was wasted, he lined his member up with her core within a second, prodding and teasing at the opening. "Please, please, please." She sounded desperate, but fuck, she was. And feeling it was worse then sounding it.

"Yes ma'am." He said, and thrusted into her. A gasp escaped them in unisome. With the arm still around her waist, he pulled her into his hips, his body straining as he delved deeper inside her than she thought possible.

"Yes. . ." She whined. "More."

He kissed his way up her throat, their hips freed and collided into eachother with steady, strong thrusts, pushing her deeper into the cushions with every rut. Nothing could compare, he was unparalleled. Bucky, despite what he was already achieving, kissed his way up her neck, unfaltering in his duty.

Her hands found his face, cupping it and bringing him back to her, and their lips met again. "Taste so sweet," he murmured, sinking his tongue into her. The salt of her skin mixing with her saliva. "Want all of you."

She smiled against him. "Harder."

He did as ordered, keeping his pace and adding pressure. "Yeah," he moaned. "Being so good for me, girl." And pulled her deeper onto his member. Her breaths grew rapid and shallow, fingers clawing at his back as she had nowhere to go, all pleasure directed straight into her. "Close, so fucking close," she cried.

"Good," he chuckled breathely against her skin, and that was a she needed. Her back arched in euphoria, and stars stung her eyelids, speckling the darkness. "Good job, sweetheart. Just breathe," he continued thrusting into her, softly, easing her through the orgasm. "Good girl. Well done. . ." He whispered, kissing her jaw. The stars began fading and she regained her senses, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Beautiful, girl." He moaned, still rutting into her, chasing his own high while wiping the tears from her face. Her body began tingling, on the vege of breaking down.

"Dont know how much more I can take, Buck." She kissed his cheek, focusing on the skill of his lips.

"Almost there, almost. . ." he moaned, increasing his pace. The slickness of her core created a sickening sound together with the slapping of their skin. It was heavenly, but she could feel the pressure building within her again.

"Mmmh, m' gonna cum again, please buck, dont stop."

He didn't, he continued, intent on coming together with her. He bit into her lip, causing her to yelp and yield the hold on his face and licked a trail down her chest and breast, then taking it into his mouth. Sucking and slurping in an insane rythm with the slapping. "Yes, yes! Fuck, Bucky." she called out, and Bucky pulled out of her.

Coming only a second after, his seed spilling over her abdomen. "I love you, I love you." He moaned with faltering breaths, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of her, kissing every part of skin that he could reach.

Holy shit? "I love you too." She smiled lazily, drunk off of her two consequent orgasms. Laying her hand on her stumache, she felt his sticky substance coat her fingers.

His eyebrows knit together in guilt. "Sorry 'bout that sweetheart, I'll get a towel-"

She grabbed his bicep and shook her head, locking her eyes onto his as she brought the fingers to her lips and licked them off, popping them in her mouth to suck them clean.

Bucky stared, unable to form words.

"Cat got your tongue, cowboy?" She asked, a coy smile on her glistenting lips.

"Fuck," he awed breathlessly. "I just love you." He whispered, lowering himself onto her once again, this time striking his tongue into her core.

-

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Light after Dark | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You ex-boyfriend never treated you well but when Bucky steps into your life it changes and he shows you how much he loves you. Would the behaviour you had with your ex-boyfriend be there because Bucky looks distanced.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 10.057 (it’s long but worth it, guess so)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, angst, abusing ex-boyfriend, violence, slapping, shouting, wound/scars because of abuse, smut, non/dub-con, manipulation, blowjob, deep throating, nipple play, handjob (male!receiving), cum eating, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), protected p in v, multiple orgasm, belly bulge, praises, fluff

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hello hello! It's me, again. Got bit of an angsty idea. Let's say that reader has an abusive ex, and this dude was physically and emotionally draining. She never had a single nice thought about herself in three years. She always thought she had big thighs, or wide hips etc etc. And let's say that she does have some scars from her ex, whenever he used to beer bottles at her they'd crash and cut her. She always thought she was not worthy, because he used to cheat on her all the time. Now, presently, we're with Bucky. And nowadays Bucky has been a little irritated and distant. And you think the worse, and your defense mechanism come up. Back with your ex, you used to cook good food and make so much effort (but your asshole ex never bothered) Bucky is confused why there's whole royal course of a meal on the table when he comes home. You don't want to point out the obvious and say it's for nothing, but it's really because you don't want him to leave. Bucky knows something is up, but how does he approach the situation???🤭🤭🤭This was pretty long lol (Again you don't have to write this if you’re uncomfy😌😌) Okie BYE!! @amathslutsguidetofandom

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for the request. I absolutely love it and I hope you like what I made with that. Also wanna thank my best friend @imtryingbuck for listening to me, and helping me with some parts during writing.

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 -> Multifandom-Flash Bingo | 1008 | 1.1 | Cut his heart out with a spoon | @multifandom-flash | Fandom-Free Bingo: Valentines Edition | Row One-Two | Tracing Scars | @fandom-free-bingo

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“Come one, can’t you get your shit together? It’s not that hard,” he shouted at you, throwing his hands up while he looked at you.

His expression was disgusted, and he was disappointed — because of you, like he always was. You just asked him to help you with the plates, but he was annoyed, mad that you couldn’t do it without annoying him. You didn’t want to annoy him; it was never your intention, but you’re tired — working hard in the household every day, sleeping only half of the night — and he never appreciates what you did. He wanted to have a meal — a proper meal — but you presented him with something he didn’t want to eat that day. How could you dare to cook soup when he wants meat?

“Take your plate and sit on the floor,” he told you, pointing next to him on the ground.

“P—please. I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

He rolled his eyes, and not even now have you done what he told you. Alex placed his hand on your shoulder, pushing you down until you were sitting next to him on the floor. He used his hand under your chin to tilt your head up, forcing you to lock in with him. Alex let go of your chin, smirking at you before his hand met your cheek painfully. You hissed, tears building in your eyes, but you swallowed harshly and looked down on your plate, which was lying in front of you.

“Shut your mouth. I don’t wanna hear a fucking word."

Your body started to tremble, but you stayed quiet. Alex laughed, turning to the plate in front of him and sliding the spoon through it a few times. He hadn’t tried the soup you cooked; he stared at the plate. That’s nothing a person like him would eat; Alex deserved better than soup. He deserved to be treated well. He turned his face, seeing you sitting in the same position since he smacked your face. You weren’t saying a word; your hands were shaking, and you tried to hide your tears. He took the plate in one of his hands, holding it above you. With a sadistic expression, he let the soup fall down on you.

“Oh— sorry. I forgot you’re not the trash,” he said.

You whimpered, feeling the hot liquid covering your body and burning your skin. Alex watched you and the way the soup soaked your clothes. He then stood up and pushed you to the side; you were curled up in yourself, crying silently while he just kicked you. Alex walked out of the kitchen, leaving you a whimpering and crying mess lying on the ground. Alex just left the house when you started crying more.

Almost half of the night you were lying on the ground, your body trembling, and you cried until there was no tear left anymore. You loved that man; you feel in love with him because he was caring; he made you feel good and appreciated you. But you feel like you were the reason for him being the way he is now. Maybe you were too fat, maybe your food wasn’t good, maybe you didn’t do things like you should do then? You often thought about it already — sleepless nights while Alex was sleeping next to you, smelling like a bottle of alcohol itself while he wrapped his arm around your waist.

Somewhere in the night, you heard the keys in the door. Your body tensed immediately while you pretend to be sleeping on the couch. Alex knew you weren't, and even when he would wake you up, he was drunk and frustrated.

“Babe, come here now. You little bitch,” he shouted through the house, and you sat up. “I won’t repeat myself, slut.”

You slowly walked toward him, holding your arms tightly around your body to cover yourself a bit. He grinned when he saw you walking closer to him; you look so small, while he felt so good looking at your scared form in front of him. Alex was holding a bottle of beer in his hand, and he took a sip, groaning when he noticed that the bottle was empty.

“Alex, y—you should go to bed,” you mumbled, and he raised his eyebrow.

You dared to say something, telling him what he had to do. He didn’t think twice when he lifted the bottle and smashed it against your head. The glass broke and left a bloody wound on your head. You whimpered and tried to hide the tears from rolling down your cheeks, but he saw it, and it made him chuckle even more. Now you knew that you shouldn’t tell him what to do, or else Alex would show you that you were his own little toy to treat and fuck you however he wanted.

“Get on your knees.”

“P—please. C—can I just clean the wound?”

“Get on your knees, or I will give you more than just this one to clean. Fucking little bitch,” he hissed, grabbing your chin harshly.

You whined, trying to turn your face away, but he was too strong for you. So you needed to look directly into his eyes while he leaned closer, and you smelled his breath — which smelled like nothing but alcohol. You pushed the urge to look disgusted away, but when he leaned even closer and captured your lips with his, you tried to pull away from him. His tongue slid over your lips, and when you weren’t parting your lips, he just smacked your cheek to make you hiss in pain. Then you opened your mouth, and he was able to guide his tongue into it. You felt disgusted, but you loved him, and when it was what he wanted, you wouldn’t deny it; otherwise, he would still do it. He has control over your relationship, as he showed you. Alex pulled away from you, leaving you panting while he smirked and pushed you down on your knees.

“Suck my fucking dick. Other girls would beg me to suck it, so why are you complaining about my dick, huh? Thinking you’re pretty? You’re not; have you seen your ugly, fat thighs? I would be ashamed to show them someone,” he said, and you nodded.

You didn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks; you felt so ashamed and embarrassed for looking the way you do. With shaking hands, you gasped his belt and unbuckled it. Opening his pants before you shoved them down his legs. You saw the outline of his dick in his pants, but he wasn’t hard. When you looked at his dick a moment too long for his liking, he cleared his throat, grasped your hair, and pushed you closer.

“Do you really think I will be turned on when I see you? You’re just a little ugly slut,” he said, laughing about the tears in your eyes.

You knew you weren't the most beautiful person, but even when you heard that for three years now, it was still hurtful. Alex always told you that he could have everyone, that everyone wanted to be with him, but he was together with you, even when it’s just because you couldn’t be without him — that’s what he was always saying.

You pushed his boxers down as well, revealing his soft cock. Alex took his shaft in his hand, stroking himself a few times before he pulled you closer and tapped his dick against your lips. You opened your mouth slightly, and when he managed to push into you, he immediately rammed his dick down your throat. He never paid attention to how you felt when you had sex; he didn’t care. You gagged around his length, trying to get used to it, but he had already started to thrust into you. His cock always slid down your throat, and his balls slapped against your chin. His hand in your hair guided you over his cock, and he slapped your cheeks a few times, causing more tears in your eyes.

“You’re such a fucking little slut, aren’t you? That’s the only thing you can do. Sucking my cock."

Your nails were digging into your tights, trying to ground you while he held you on his cock. He was deep in your mouth and throat, and you tried not to panic, but when he didn’t let you pull back, you wiggled softly, trying to move away from his length. But he didn’t let you move away; he was holding you with his cock in your mouth in place. When he was finally letting go of you, you pulled away and breathed deeply, crying quietly, while he grabbed your chin once again. His eyes darkened as he looked into yours. And you knew you shouldn’t have tried to pull away from him.

“Do you wanna kidding me? Making a scene like that?” He asked, looking disappointed at you.

He didn’t wait for an answer before he pushed his dick back inside your mouth. His hips thrusted forward, he groaned, and you felt his dick twitch in your mouth just before he came in your mouth. His cum was sliding down your throat, and he pulled away, smacking your face again before he pointed toward the couch.

“A—Alex.”

“Can’t you just keep your mouth shut? You annoy me. You’re my girlfriend, and your boyfriend wants to fuck you now.”

When you woke up next to your boyfriend, your pussy was aching. He fucked you rough, never minding if it would hurt you or if you enjoyed this sex too. You were slowly getting up, and you felt disgusted with the mixture of sweat and cum on your body. So you walked to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake him. You really needed a hot shower, so you did exactly that. A hot, relaxing shower was perfect for your arching pussy and your tensed muscles, but when you heard Alex shouting that the breakfast wasn’t ready, you panicked again. You should have done the breakfast first and then thought about a shower. He swung the door of your shared bathroom open, narrowing his eyebrows.

“Do you think you could take a shower before making breakfast for me?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“I’m sorry—“

He walked closer, towering over you and pulling the towel away, leaving you naked in front of him. Alex looked your body up and down, slapping your breast and causing you to gasp.

“Have you looked into the mirror? Look how ugly you are, and your pussy, only great because she is still tight,” he said, turning around to took a shower as well.

You wrapped your arms around your body, trying to cover it. He is right; you’re ugly, and you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror. Your body is covered with scars — scars he caused with beer bottles or when he just hit you hard enough. You bent down to lift your towel, wrapping it around you, and got out of the bathroom to change into leggings and a t-shirt. Then you made your way to the kitchen, preparing some breakfast for the two of you.

It didn’t take long until Alex walked into the kitchen. He smirked at you when you looked so small compared to him since you tried to make yourself small around him. And especially because he can see the respect or more fear you have in your eyes when you look at him. You placed the plates on the table, both of you taking a seat, and you ate in silence; you didn’t want to annoy him. When he was finished, he looked at you, shoving his plate closer to you.

"You already made better food. I want you to clean until I come home from the meeting,” he told you.

“Oke,” you said, taking the plates to put them in the other dishes to clean them later.

Alex went to work, and you needed to clean. You weren’t really motivated to do so, but you didn’t want him to be angry at you again. So you started in the kitchen and then went to the living room. When you were almost finished, you heard Alex coming back home, and your muscles were immediately tensed.

“Lunch?”

“I cleaned and haven’t-“

“I don’t mind. You have to bring lunch to the table, and you didn’t once again,” he said.

“Thought I told you that when you’re not doing what I said, I will break up. You want that? No? But you did it, no. Lazy ass didn’t do what she was told.”

You whimpered, but he shook his head, pointing to the door of the apartment. And grasped your arm to pull you closer to the door. It was raining outside, and you knew he didn’t mind; he would let you wait outside until he allowed you to come back into the apartment. Alex went back inside and left you in front of the door. Your clothes were immediately soaked because of the rain, and you felt the cold all over your body. You were freezing, but he wouldn't let you into the apartment until he wasn't mad anymore. So you sat on the ground, your back against the wall, and your legs were pulled against you while you wrapped your arms around them. You cried quietly, trying to warm yourself up a bit while the cold rain was wetting your whole body.

"Hi, are you oke? Aren't you freezing?" A soft voice asked, and you looked at the man in front of you.

He was kneeling, offering you his hand, but you just smiled at him. He saw that it wasn't a real one, but he didn't want to pressure you. His brown hair was as wet as you were, but he didn't mind. He also didn't mind taking off his jacket and placing it over your shoulders.

"Thank you," you mumbled.

"I'm Bucky, and you?" He asked softly, his hand resting on your knees.

The warmth of his body warmed you a bit as well, and his steel blue eyes and the smile on his lips warmed your heart. You admired his blue eyes; he looked soft and beautiful.

"I'm Y/N"

"And what is a pretty girl like you doing outside in the rain?"

You blushed and turned your face away. Bucky smirked, looking at you, while he tried to find out why you were sitting there with a bruise on your pretty face. He hadn't seen that one before, but when he did, he reached out to slide his fingers over your face to turn it toward him. You hissed, trying to escape his fingers even when his touch was way softer than Alex's. Bucky removed his hand and waited until you were ready to face him again.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know I would scare you. I don't want to hurt you, but where are the bruises from?" He asked, and you shook your head.

"Nothing, really. I just- I just walked against the counter yesterday. I was stupid and ignored the open door of the counter. And I'm sitting here because I forgot my keys," you tell him.

Bucky nodded. He didn't really believe you, but he didn't want to push you either. When he noticed someone opening the door behind you, he got up to face the person behind you.

"You little slut, didn't I tell you to get pizza?" Alex asked, ignoring Bucky, who furrowed his eyebrows.

"Alex, you didn't say that you wanted pizza," you said quietly, looking at your hands.

"Don't dare to talk back, or you can spend the rest of the night here as well," he shouted at you, and you flinched.

Bucky's jaw was clenching when he saw the way Alex treated you, and when you got up from where you were sitting, Bucky reached out to grab your shoulder and pushed you behind him. Alex was laughing about it; his eyes were piercing into Bucky's.

"Do you think someone like him would treat you better? You're nothing but slut, a dumb little bitch," he said to you even when he was looking at Bucky.

You whimpered softly, but before you were able to say something, you saw Bucky's arm flying forward, and a moment later, your boyfriend was walking backwards, his hand covering his nose while he hissed in pain. Bucky just broke his nose with one punch, and you saw the blood slowly running down his chin, and Alex's hand was covered in it as well. You weren't sure if you felt scared or thankful that Bucky protected you for your boyfriend.

"Fucking slut. I'm gonna break up with you; fuck your new lover; he won't love you the way I loved you," he said, shutting the door and leaving you with Bucky in front of it.

Bucky turned around, seeing you crying, and, with widening eyes, looking at him broke his heart. He didn't want to scare you more, but he was just too angry at Alex for treating you the way he did. Bucky smiled nicely, opening his arms for you to decide if you wanted him to hug you or not. You hesitated a moment, but his warmth and the way he protected you made you crave more. So you walked closer toward him and let him wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you as close as possible. You placed your hand on his chest, inhaling his sweet-mint scent, and closed your eyes for a moment.

For the first time in years, you felt saved and loved. Someone could really like you the way you are. Bucky didn't know you, but he gave you the warmth you never got from your ex-boyfriend. His touches were soft, and you enjoyed the warmth and softness of them.

"You will come home with me. You can sleep in my bed then; I prefer the floor in the living room," Bucky said.

You were freezing, and when Bucky already offered you his bed and maybe a warm shower, you would definitely say yes. So you nodded softly, and Bucky lifted you up, his hands resting under your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist while you placed your hands around his neck. You looked at him with a smirk, and Bucky grinned just as much as you did. Only then did you realise his beautiful blue eyes, which light up when he smiles, like he did.

"Can I take a shower then as well? And Bucky, I think I'm too heavy for you to carry me home," you say quietly.

"You can also take a long, warm bath if you want to. And don't worry, you're not too heavy for me," he chuckled and gave you some butterflies in your stomach, causing you to giggle softly.

"I'm home, doll," Bucky shouts through the apartment you both live in now.

Bucky takes off his jacket and shoes and makes his way into the kitchen. He inhales the smell of the food deeply, smiling when he sees the plates filled with his favourite food on the table. He walks around the table, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Bucky places his chin on your shoulder and looks at you while you're cooking.

When Bucky picked you up that day, you met him for the first time. He brought you to his home, and like he said, you were allowed to take a long, warm bath, and you slept in his bed. It was the first time in forever that you felt safe. Bucky made breakfast in the morning — a lot of breakfast because he wasn't sure what you liked to eat, so he made pancakes and French toast, and he offered you cereal. When you finished the dinner, he asked you to look over your wounds, and when you allowed him to do so, he picked you up to carry you into the bathroom and placed you on the edge of the bathtub. Bucky slowly moved his fingers over your thighs, and when you looked away because you were ashamed, he told you how beautiful you are.

Bucky took off your shirt, revealing a lot of scars and wounds all over your body. The hiss that left his lips made you flinch, but he assured you that he was just shocked that such a beautiful person like you has an ex-boyfriend like Alex. Bucky cleaned all your wounds; he didn't say that you were ugly. His words surprised you every time because he always admired your body, and he still does. The two of you came closer when Bucky offered you to stay with him, so you both would have someone, and you said yes, but your behaviour with your ex-boyfriend needed time to slowly fade away.

Bucky was really confused when you were always up before him when you made the meals and always studied his expression to see if it was good or not. With time, Bucky learned to tell you that the food is good, that he would like to cook with you together, and that he is going to help you with the dishes. Bucky took care to always tell you when he got home and to tell you what he would like to eat, or he told you to decide. When you were unsure, Bucky helped you decide, but he never pressured you. His only intention was to make you happy because he could never get enough of your beautiful smile.

Whenever you were looking into the mirror and a disgusted expression was on your face while a few tears fell down your cheeks — you wanted to be at least a bit handsome — Bucky smirked and was standing next to you, and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. He took off his shirt and showed you the scars on his own body. The bunch of scars around his metal arm, but also the others. He showed you a side of himself that was also just a broken man, and you fell in love with that side just as much as you fell in love with the strong Bucky who would punch everyone to protect you.

When you suddenly got woken up by a scream and you were scared your ex-boyfriend was shouting at you, you needed a moment to remember that you were with Bucky. It confused you at first why you heard a scream, but when you heard another and then a noise that sounded like a punch, you got up to find Bucky sleeping on the floor in the living room. It wasn't new to you to see him lying there, but when you saw the tears rolling down his cheeks and the sweat on his forehead, you walked closer to place your hand on his shoulder. He woke up immediately and tried to wipe the tears away, but everything in his body told you that he had a really bad nightmare. You sat in his lap; your arms were around his neck, and you were sliding your fingers through his soft brown hair. Bucky had his face hidden in the crock of your neck. You being close to him is just as helpful for him as his being close to you to feel safe and comfortable.

You never judge him for having nightmares, for not being comfortable around too many people, or for struggling with his scars and mental health sometimes. And he gives you the same; he never dares to judge you. Bucky tries to show you how beautiful you are, that you're worth it, and that you are and can be more than you think. And he loves you the way you are, just like you love him the way he is.

Slowly, you get used to being good the way you are, and Bucky will never shout at you or hurt you. But for a while, he has looked irritated and distant. He comes home late, and even when he says it's nothing, you feel like you have done something that makes him mad or that he loves you less. So you try to be better, clean the apartment more often, cook what he loves, and try not to be too clingy around him.

"It smells beautiful," he says, kissing your neck softly.

You lean into his touch, smiling, while you finish the dinner. His hands are trailing up and down your sides, and you feel the goosebumps erupting all over your body. You love his soft, warm touches, his kiss all over your neck, and the way his breath hits your soft skin.

"There is something in the oven," you say, and Bucky takes a step back to walk to the oven. "You can just take a seat; dinner is almost done."

Bucky looks slightly confused. Usually, you wouldn't mind his help, but for a few days, you don't ask or let him help you with food and dishes anymore. You cook a lot of what he loves, and the meals are almost royalty meals. He doesn't mind eating your food because he loves what you do, but he wonders why you suddenly act like you did when he first met you. He walks around the table and takes his seat. He looks at you with a soft smile, but he still doesn't understand why you put so much effort into cleaning and cooking.

"How come you cook such royal meals?" He asks softly but sees you flinch.

You constantly feel like you have done something wrong; maybe that's not what Bucky likes? Maybe you shouldn't have cooked that? Bucky wants, probably, a pizza. You feel the tears building in your eyes, and when you turn around, you see Bucky's smile fading away. He looks with a worried expression at you while he gets up and walks closer to you. You shake your head, walking backwards and crashing into the kitchen counter behind you.

"Doll, can I please come closer? I can stand here when you feel comfortable, but please let me come closer," he says, and you hesitate a moment.

Bucky stands a few meters away from you, waiting for you to allow him to come closer. When you nod slightly, Bucky steps closer and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible against him. Your head rests against his broad chest, and your tears are soaking his t-shirt while he holds you tightly.

"B—Bucky I'm sorry. I didn't want to make the wrong food. I cleaned the house today; please don't be mad for not cleaning enough," you say quietly.

"Shhh. Doll, you didn't do anything wrong; why do you think that?"

"B—Because you look so distant. Don't you love me anymore? Am I too ugly or too fat? I—I can do a diet."

Bucky's eyes widen, and he slides his hands down to your thighs and picks you up. He shoves the pots away from the cooker. He then turns around and carries you to the bedroom of the two of you. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you try to wipe the tears away when he places you on the bed. Bucky stands in front of you and smirks softly, then he gets on his knees in front of you. His hands slide up and down your thighs until he reaches the hem of your shirt.

"I love you. I love you so much. And the missions with Sam were really exhausting, especially because John is always trying to tell us what we have to do. But I love you so much, and you are beautiful exactly the way you are. You're not fat or ugly; you're perfect the way you are," Bucky tells you. He then pushes you down and towers over you with a wide smile on his lips.

Bucky captures your lips with his soft and plumb ones, his hands sliding along your sides, and you sigh softly into the kiss. Bucky deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping through your barely parted lips, and he groans when you place your hands in his soft hair and tug at them softly.

You've never had sex with Bucky; he didn't pressure you since you were uncomfortable with it because of your ex-boyfriend. But right now, it feels perfect — the way Bucky has his lips on yours and his hands all over your body. You feel a heat in your lower stomach, which makes its way between your legs, and you can't help but moan about the feeling. When Bucky pulls slightly away, your eyes widen but are filled with lust, the pleasure written on in your expression, and Bucky smiles about it. He kisses down your jawline and to your neck, biting softly and licking over your soft skin.

"Bucky, please," you whimper.

He smirks, kissing your lips once again, before he plays with the hem of your shirt and pushes it up. You sit up, letting him remove the fabric from your body, and he groans about the way you look underneath him with lust in your eyes. Bucky kisses your collarbone, down to your breasts, and unclasps your bra so you can take it off as well. His big hands capture your breasts, palming them softly, and he earns soft moans from you. Bucky licks a strap down to one of your nipples; he kisses it softly before he takes it into his mouth, his tongue twirling around your nipple. You arch your back, pressing yourself more against your boyfriend, who chuckles.

"You're beautiful, doll," he mumbles, nibbling at the soft skin of your breast.

You blush and hide your face with your hands, giggling softly. Bucky looks at you, grasping your hands and pulling them away from your face. He leans closer to kiss your lips softly.

"Don't hide that pretty face of yours. You’re so beautiful; I wanna see you, please," Bucky says, pouting, and you smirk.

You lean closer and peck at his lips, just as softly as he did. Bucky moves his lips down your collarbone and to your other breast, kissing around your nipple before he takes it in his mouth as well. Suckling softly and scratching his teeth over the sensitive skin. You moan, tugging at his hair and pulling him even closer. Bucky slides his hands from your breasts down your stomach, kissing the way down and giving every inch of your soft skin attention.

“Do you want it? If not, we can wait until you’re ready to have sex with me,” Bucky says, his fingers playing with the waistband of your pants.

“I want it, please, Bucky. I need you,” you mumble, blushing once again.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he chuckles.

Bucky opens your pants, trailing his fingers along your skin while he pushes your pants down. He then kisses the way back to your belly and smirks when you wiggle in anticipation. He pushes himself up, removing his shirt as well as his pants, before he leans over you again. You can see his growing bulge in his boxers, and the outline of his cock is visible. A little wet spot forms where his tip is, and you reach out your hand to touch his cock.

“Wanna touch it, babydoll?” He asks, and you nod, your eyes focused on his covered cock.

Bucky grins, getting up the bed once again, and pushes his boxers down. His cock springs free and slaps against his stomach; the red tip is leaking with pre-cum, and you see the vein running along the underside of his shaft. Bucky gets on the bed next to you. You sit up, looking directly into his eyes, while he smiles at you. You slide your fingers over his abs and to the base of his cock. Bucky looks at your fingers, his hand wrapping around yours, and he brings both of your hands to his shaft.

“It’s oke, doll. I won’t do anything unless you want me to,” he says, leaning closer to kiss you before he wraps your hand around his shaft.

You smile when you feel the softness of his length. He is huge, but with Bucky, you feel safe, and you know he wouldn’t do anything when you say you don’t want him to do so. His hand lets go of yours.

For a moment, you just look at his cock in your hand and the way his pre-cum is leaking down his tip. It’s glistening softly, and you swipe your thumb over his slit, smearing the cum all over his tip. Bucky groans softly, smiling when you slowly move your hand up and down his shaft.

“Do you like that?”

“It feels wonderful, babydoll.”

You giggle, swiping your thumb a few more times about his tip until Bucky can’t hold back and thrusts forward into your hand. His eyes widen, and he looks at you, but there is no discomfort, so he relaxes and lets you continue to massage his dick.

“C—Can I touch your balls?” You ask, cheeks heating up.

Bucky nods, and you look at his balls before you use your other hand to bring it to his balls, taking them into your hand. They are soft, and you roll them in your palm, causing Bucky to groan.

“Babydoll, you’re doing so well for me. But when you continue, I won’t last long,” Bucky says.

You grin, moving your hand faster and wrapping it tighter around his shaft. Your other hand is massaging his balls, and when you swipe your thumb once again over his tip, Bucky grasps the sheets and thrusts his hips forward.

“Doll,” he says, looking deeply into your eyes.

The blue lights up when he smirks; they are slightly darkened because of the lust, but they show you nothing but love. When you stroke his cock a few more times, Bucky throws his head back and comes into your hand. He breathes heavily, and sweat is covering his forehead. His seeds are covering his tip and your hand, and for a moment he is worried that you could feel uncomfortable with it. But you just stroke him until he comes down from his high, and then you look at your hand, his cum slowly dropping from it, and you move it to your mouth, so you lick a bit of it away, moaning softly at its salty taste.

“It tastes good,” you smirk, tapping his cock again, and Bucky moans.

When Bucky catches his breath, he pushes you back down so you lay next to him. He spreads your thighs and slides his fingers up and down your thighs further until he reaches your panties. Your face is turned toward him, and he’s focused on your expression, making sure you’re oke. When you nod softly, Bucky guides his hand over your panties and caresses your fold through the fabric. You moan softly; he knows how to touch a woman to make her feel good; he immediately hits your clit and you buck your hips. He then slides his fingers further down, feeling your panties damp, and he smirks.

“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, and you nod, but place your hands on his cheek and press your lips on his.

Bucky moves his lips perfectly against yours; he’s deepening the kiss before he kisses your neck and collarbone before his focus is back on your panties. His fingers circle your clit through the fabric, and you moan quietly, arching your back. Bucky takes the waistband of your panties between his fingers and pulls them down, revealing your pussy. He rolls himself on top of you before he pushes you further down in the bed by your hips. He is then lying between your thighs and smirking at you.

“You’re so wet and so beautiful,” he says, placing a kiss on your pussy.

Bucky’s eyes are focused on your pussy, his fingers trialing through your folds, and he parts them slightly. Using his tongue to lick along them to your clit. Circling around your sensitive spot before he sucks at it softly, making you gasp. You have never felt so much pleasure during sex, and Bucky hasn’t really touched you yet. His fingers trail back down to your soaked entrance. He pushes his digit against it, smirking at the way you push yourself more against his finger.

“You’re cute when you’re desperate for more, doll,” he says, placing his lips once again on your clit.

One of your hands finds its way to his hair, tugging at it and pulling Bucky closer to your cunt. He chuckles against your pussy, causing vibration, and you whine. He slowly pushes one of his fingers into you while his other hand holds you down by your hips. You only then know that he used his metal hand to push inside of you. The sudden cold of his finger feels great compared to the heat in your pussy. Bucky thrusts his finger in and out of you, smirking about the way your pussy is clenching around his digit and sucking him inside. His mouth doesn’t let go of your clit while he does so, enjoying the sounds that are leaving your lips. They are like music, and he could listen to your soft moans all day.

“Bucky— please. It feels so good.”

“You’re tasting so sweet, doll. Can’t get enough of your pussy.”

You smirk, throwing your head back when he adds another finger and pushes them as much as he can into your tight hole. You’re soaking his fingers, and when he curls them, he finds your sweet spot. The moan that leaves your lips is erotic, and you look at him with shock in your eyes about that sound.

“Don’t worry, doll. Just found your sweet spot,” Bucky chuckles, licking down your folds to your entrance.

His tongue joins your fingers, and his lapping at your entrance swallows all your juice. His fingers curl inside of you, hitting always your sweet spot, and you feel the knot in your stomach growing. You haven’t felt a pleasure like that in years, but Bucky is so soft with you; he never says anything bad about you or your body. Bucky loves you; he loves your body; and he shows you that, every day, he makes sure you know how much you’re loved by him and that you’re the most beautiful woman for him.

“I feel soy squeezing my fingers; if you wanna come, then do it. Come all over my fingers, doll,” he says, placing his mouth back at your entrance.

His words, the way his tongue is working over your folds, and the way his fingers are always hitting your sweet spot make you come. Your cum is floating out of you, but Bucky doesn’t dare to miss a bit of it and takes it all. Eating you out like it’s the most delicious meal he's ever had. And he fucks you with his fingers and his tongue through your orgasm; your breath hitches whenever his tongue slides over your folds. Your pussy feels so sensitive, but Bucky is so soft. He earns more soft moans until he pulls his fingers out of you and kisses your clit once more before he places his chin on your lower stomach and smirks at you.

“How are you feeling, pretty girl?”

“Great, thank you. And you?”

Bucky chuckles, you’re always so nice. Even when it’s all about you, you always make sure that he is fine too. That both of you feel comfortable.

“I’m good too. Do you want to have my dick now?” He asks, grinning.

You nod, running your fingers through his soft hair. Bucky kisses your stomach, pushing his elf up until he kneels between your legs. His big hands are caressing your thighs. Bucky’s cock is hard again, and the tip is touching your pussy when he moves closer to you.

“Could you give me a condom? It’s in the drawer from the bedside table.”

You turn yourself a bit around, reaching for the drawer, and open it. You grab a condom and give it to Bucky, then you close the drawer and lay down more comfortably again. Bucky opens the package of the condom, taking it out and throwing the package away. Your boyfriend grasps the base of his cock and pulls the condom over his dick.

You’re spreading your legs further apart when Bucky settles himself between them, his cock still in his hand, and he taps the tip a few times against your clit. He smirks at you, sliding his dick through your folds, and covers his cock with your arousal. You moan softly when he reaches your entrance, pushing his tip softly against it. You whimper softly when Bucky slides his cock once more through your folds. He loves the way you look through your lashes at him; your lips are slightly parted, so desperate for his cock.

"Bucky, please," you say quietly, pushing your hips toward him.

Bucky lines himself up with your entrance and pushes slowly inside of you; his cock is huge, and he stretches you like no one has before. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he pushes further into you. Your back arches, but he doesn't hurt you; the pleasure is breathtaking, and you grasp the sheets. Bucky chuckles, pushing balls deep into you; he then leans closer and captures your lips with his. His cock is filling you perfectly, and you clench around him, causing him to groan into your mouth.

"You're so tight, warming my cock so perfectly," he groans.

"You're so deep," you moan when he pulls slightly out to push back into you.

You both chuckle, and Bucky takes one of your hands, brings it to your stomach, and places it on your lower abdomen. He then thrusts his cock into you, letting you feel him through your skin and causing you to moan even louder. Feeling his cock that way turns you on beyond belief. He moves his cock in a slow but steady rhythmus inside of you. Your walls are squeezing him, sucking him deeper into the warmth of your pussy.

Bucky's balls hit your ass whenever he pushes his dick balls deep into you. His dick is glistening with your arousal, and Bucky looks the whole time into your eyes.

You're beautiful when you lay underneath him like that. Your other hand makes its way to his back, and you try to ground yourself while Bucky holds your other hand, still pressed on your stomach. With every thrust you feel him against your hand, he cock is hitting all the right spots, and he smirks when he hits your sweet spot harder than before.

"That's what you like?" He asks.

"Scared that I will break when you're thrusting harder into me?"

He shakes his head, laughing while he speeds up his thrusts. Your mouth drops open when he causes a pleasure inside of you that you have never felt before. It grows in your stomach and makes its way down to your pussy. Your eyes widen while you breathe heavily, but you still push your hips more against Bucky to show him to fuck you harder. And he does; he pulls almost completely out of you to thrust back inside of you. His breath hitches, and he closes his eyes when you squeeze him harder.

"I won't last long when you squeeze me like that, doll," he says, pressing his lips to yours.

You smirk, clenching your walls on purpose to make him groan against your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and his thrusts become harder and faster while you're not far away from the edge anymore. The pleasure in your stomach is growing, and Bucky growls. When he hits your sweet spot a few more times, he feels your orgasm just as close as his own, speeding his thrusts up. Bucky doesn't want to come before you do — or at least when you do.

"B—Bucky, I'm so close."

"I know, me too. Come with me, doll," he mumbles softly.

He pushes his cock into you; you feel every inch of him inside of you; his lips are slightly parted like yours; and his breath hits your soft skin. The feeling of him feeling you completely inside of you causes you to come all over his cock. You moan his name and its music to his ears, hearing you moan his name while he is buried balls deep into your pussy. You're squirting all over his cock, and Bucky grins while he comes as well. He comes in the condom, still thrusting into you while you both calm down from your high. Bucky lets go of your hand, sliding it over your stomach and your sides, caressing your skin. He places kisses all over your neck while you catch your breath and run your fingers through his soft hair.

"Are you oke?" He asks, his blue eyes slightly worried that he could have been too rough.

"I'm— it was perfect."

His expression softens, and he pulls slowly out of you. You hiss about the sudden emptiness and grasp his muscular arms to pull him back. Bucky chuckles, placing his fingers at your pussy and strokes your folds softly. You're clenching around nothing, while Bucky admires the way your cum is dripping out of you.

He then sits up and helps you sit up as well. Bucky removes the condom and gets up from the bed, making his way to the bathroom to throw the condom away. You're looking at him, smirking. He is adorable, sweet, and caring. He never tells you that you're ugly because of your scars; he just kisses them when you struggle because of them and tells you how beautiful you are. And you're doing the same; whenever he has nightmares or suffers from his past or scars, you know exactly how to cheer him up. A lot of kisses and cuddles always help that soft, big man, and with the way his eyes are shining, his lips curl up to the softest and most adorable smile.

You rest your back against the headboard of the bed, waiting for Bucky. He throws the condom away and runs warm water into the bath; he buts your favourite bubble bath into it as well, before he makes his way back to you. He smirks, picking you up with no effort and getting back into the bathroom. Before you can say something, you're sitting in the bathtub, surrounded by a lot of bubbles and your favourite scent. You squirm softly when you feel the warm water on your sensitive pussy. Bucky gets into the bathtub behind you, wraps his arms around your waist, and pulls you as close as possible.

"I love you," he mumbles, taking some of the foam and putting it on your hair.

You giggle when it rolls down your hair and tickles your skin softly. Bucky rubs his hands softly over your stomach, drawing small circles on it while you lean back, resting your head against his broad chest. Bucky plays with the foam, placing them everywhere on your body, and chuckles then.

"You did so well for me, babydoll. Your pussy's feeling so good around my cock," Bucky says, kissing your neck softly. "Made for my cock."

You chuckle, sliding your hands over his legs. But he is right; it was perfect, and he was so soft that you weren't scared when he pushed in; you felt safe, and you knew he wouldn't do it when you didn't want it.

"My pretty doll, I'm so in love with you. How about I prepare some popcorn and pizza after the bath while you decide which movie we're going to watch?"

"Sounds like a good idea," you say, turning around to kiss him.

Bucky washes your hair, trying to avoid letting shampoo come into your eyes, and he manages to do so. When you turn your whole body around, you're washing his hair. When you put the shampoo in his soft brown hair, you give him some fresh hair styles. Laughing about the way he is pouting when you giggle about his hair. You kiss his pout away, causing him to pout again to get more kisses.

When the both of you are finished, you get out of the bathtub, and Bucky holds a towel to wrap around you, kissing your forehead softly when he walks to the bedroom and dresses himself, giving you panties and a t-shirt of his. You smirk, dress yourself, and comb your hair. Bucky makes his way to the kitchen, preparing the popcorn and the pizza. When you're finished in the bathroom, you walk into the living room, placing all the pillows and blankets on the couch and letting yourself fall into them. When Bucky came with the food and drinks into the living room, he burst out laughing. Only your arms and legs are visible from underneath the pillows. He places the food and drinks on the small table and lifts the pillow on top of you, smirking.

"Does the pillow eat you?" He asks, and you chuckle.

"No, I just like to cuddle."

You sit up, moving a bit to make some space for Bucky. He lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arm around you, then he takes the popcorn and hands it to you before he places the pizza in his lap. With a smirk, you look at the pizza and then into his blue eyes.

"Needy boy," you mumble into his ear.

You slide your hand over his chest to his stomach until you almost reach his cock, but then you take a slice of pizza and bite into it with a grin. You turn on a movie, Bucky, and you like that your head rests on his shoulder while he has his hand around your waist and pulls you as close as possible.

"Just as needy as I'm," he says, making both of you chuckle.

Bucky takes some popcorn from the bowl, which is standing between your legs, so he has to grasp between your legs like you do when you take a slice of pizza from him.

"Bucky?"

"Mhm?" He asks, half asleep, and pulls you even closer against him.

You smile softly and run your fingers through his soft hair. You move some strands out of his face and lean closer to kiss him. Bucky growls and makes you lie on top of him, his arms holding you tightly pressed against him. His fingers draw small circles on your soft skin, and he hides his face in the crock of your neck.

"Y-You know about my things, which are still at Alex's house, right?" You ask carefully; you don't want to upset Bucky.

He hums in response and looks at you, his blue eyes as soft as always. He leans closer and captures your lips for a passionate kiss, showing you that you don't have to worry about telling him about your ex-boyfriend. Bucky knows you love him just as much as he loves you. And he understands that you want to get your personal stuff from your ex-boyfriend.

"A—And I wanted to ask if— could you maybe come with me to him?"

Bucky immediately nods, rolling both of you over so you're underneath him, and he smirks at you. His soft lips grace over yours and along your jawline to your neck, where he bits softly into your skin. His hands move smoothly over your sides, caressing your skin and causing goosebumps all over your body. You sigh softly and enjoy the warmth and softness of Bucky's touches. He is always so soft and careful with you, like you could break into his hands when he doesn't pay attention. But you don't complain; Bucky is everything for you — the love of your life and your best friend.

After a lot of kisses, cuddles, and a good breakfast, you're ready to go to your ex-boyfriend and get your personal stuff. Your hands are sweating, and you dry them on your pants. Your body is slightly shaking. Bucky recognises that; he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Your head rests on his chest, and you listen to his heartbeat.

"He won't hurt you again, babydoll. I'm taking care of you; I'll protect you, and he won't do anything when you don't want it." Bucky mumbles and pushes you softly away.

He presses his lips against your forehead, which helps calm down your nerves. Bucky opens the door for you, holding your hands tight in his while you two walk along the street to the apartment you used to live in a few months ago. When you see the entrance of it already, you panic, stay still, and inhale deeply. Bucky turns toward you and places his hand on your cheek, sliding his thumb over it.

"Doll, you're stronger than you ever were. This man never broke you, and he never will. He can't harm you; I love you, and I won't let him touch you again," Bucky says softly.

He knows how hard it can be to accept a trauma you're carrying in your soul. Wounds that turn into scars, but it needs more time as a cut on the skin. Bucky knows how much you suffered because of your ex-boyfriend, but he also sees the strong woman behind all that pain. He loves you for the person you are, not for the person he wants you to be. When you nod, he leads you further to Alex's apartment. He knocks with a strength you're not used to at the door, and then the door is opened by a man you feel like you don't know.

Alex has messy hair; his beard isn't shaved like he used to, and he has dark shadows underneath his red eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept for a while, but when he sees you, he smiles. A smile you had only seen on his lips when you first met. The one you fell in love with. But when Alex sees Bucky standing next to you and holding your hand in his, his smile drops.

"Hi, I—I would like to get my stuff, please," you mumble.

Surprisingly, Alex nods and takes a step to the side, letting you and Bucky walk into the apartment. When you look around, everything looks similar to the day he threw you out of the apartment. The only difference is that there are clothes and trash on the ground. Bucky lets go of your hand, staying next to you to make sure Alex isn't doing anything. You're walking through the apartment and picking up your things, putting them in a bag you brought.

"Can we talk, please?" He asks when you walk back to the floor, where he is still standing.

You nod carefully, and Bucky kisses your cheek before he walks a step to the side to let the two of you talk. Alex runs his fingers through his hair and his hands over his face, and then he inhales deeply.

"I'm sorry, I—I Baby—“

"Alex, please. We're not together anymore."

"I never wanted to hurt you. I love you. I haven't had a girl since you moved out. Please, I love you. Give me one more chance to show you that I love you. I will be a better boyfriend this time," he says, and you see the tears falling down your cheeks.

You shake your head. And his eyes widen. Realism hits him when he sees that you don't feel the same for him anymore. He sees in your eyes that you moved on, not only in your eyes; you look in general different from the time you were together with him.

"I'm sorry, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say with such strength in your voice. You never thought you would talk to him like that without fear.

"Please, you— I love you."

"You were strong, and I was not. And you used it — you used it against me. When all is done, there is nothing to say. You have gone, and so effortlessly, you have won. You can go ahead and tell them. You can tell your friends now what you want; you can tell the girls you fuck now how shitty I am and how bad I'm in bed. I never did what you wanted or the way you wanted. Tell them all; I know now that you fucked them all without feeling ashamed to cheat on the girl you have at home, the one who loved you and expected to be treated like you did. To be abused by her boyfriend while still loving him. Shout it from the rooftops; write it on the skyline; all we had is gone now. Tell them I was happy even though my heart was broken. All my scars were open, but I found someone who doesn't mind them and helps to heal them, someone who loves all the scars you caused."

Bucky smirks when he hears your words, and his eyes light up when he hears you tell your ex-boyfriend what was inside of you for so long. And you were finally able to tell him how you felt and how you now feel.

"I know I made mistakes. But I love you."

"Everyone does, but you betrayed me. And falling out of love is hard, but falling for betrayal is worse. And you betrayed me so often. Broken trust and broken hearts — you broke both our hearts; you broke mine when we were together, and yours broke because I moved on. And thinking all you need is there, building faith on love and words, only empty promises will wear. Alex, I loved you, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say and nod before you walk to Bucky.

He smiles widely at you, his eyes shining in the most beautiful way you have ever seen. You place your hand in his, and he takes the bag before you two make your way to the door and get out of the apartment. When you close the door behind you, you breathe shakily, and you feel like all the pain and fear are fading away. You walk a few steps, but Bucky just can't hold back anymore and stays still, turning around and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I'm so proud of you, doll. I love you so much. I would tell the whole world; I just do it. I will tell the world how much I love you," Bucky says with a grin, and twirling the two of you around, he then leans closer. "I love you so much, and I'm proud of you. I don't even have words for that; you're the most beautiful woman, and you belong to me; you're mine just as much as I'm yours," he whispers into your ear.

"Thank you. I love you too, Bucky," you giggle, then you smirk playfully. "So, where do you want to go to tell the world that you love me?"

"I already did. When I whispered in your ear that I love you. Because you're my world, my perfect world," Bucky says, kissing you softly.

You feel some tears of joy rolling down your face when you realise his words. No one ever said more meaningful words than Bucky does. He is definitely everything for you, and you are grateful to have such a wonderful and loving man as your boyfriend. One who sees you as the only and most wonderful woman, someone who doesn't even look at other women, and one who tries to make you laugh as often as he can. Bucky is the love of your life, and you're grateful that destiny brought the two of you together and that the two of you discover every day another thing you love about one another.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @vicmc624 @kpopgirlbtssvt @ordelixx @angelbabyyy99 @mostlymarvelgirl @somegirlfromasgard @buck-buck-buckaroo @lov3lys1ns @etherealdisneyvillainness @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel

[shiroxichigo]

Ichigo gets a lot of shit (typically from outside of the Bleach fandom) for being a character whose wants/goals never change from beginning to end of his series. He always wants to protect people (and even though I could argue that he went from only wanting to protect those close to him to wanting to protect everyone he can, that's not the point I'm making with this post).

I think a lot of people who only give Bleach a passing glance fail to see Ichigo's true character growth. It's not about what his goals are or who he's trying to protect, but rather, it's about how he achieves it.

Ichigo is very self-sacrificing in the first third of Bleach. He believes that if the mission is successful, then it doesn't matter how broken or close to death he gets. The mission, saving Rukia (and hurting/killing as few people in the process), is all that matters.

Then, when a part of himself (his inner hollow) emerges, and says "hey yeah no, I'm not letting you get yourself killed and I'm also not letting you hold back against your enemy", Ichigo immediately rejects it.

It's not until he defeats his inner Hollow that we see Ichigo really dive into a fight with the intent to kill. The problem is, once his Hollow is defeated, he thinks that's it. He's freed himself of that part of him and he can go back to being self-sacrificing.

We see this throughout the Hueco Mundo arc. It's why saving Orihime parallels saving Rukia. Ichigo naively thinks he can suppress a part of himself. He bottles it up until it explodes, coming back to haunt him in his fight with Ulquiorra, etc. He learns that side of himself isn't so easily tucked away, and if he recklessly endangers himself, he could end up endangering his friends too. At his own hand, no less.

Then Ichigo discovers he can commit the ultimate sacrifice. Final Getsuga Tenshou. He can throw away these powers and the parts of himself that he doesn't like, and he can get rid of Aizen all in one go. He's lucky that it worked, but only because Kisuke was there.

Then, once Ichigo is powerless, he learns that's not what he really wants. Life doesn't "go back to normal". The can is open, and there's danger out there beyond just Aizen. And Ichigo can't do anything to stop it unless he gets his powers back.

So he does. Then he cuts down the threat to his friends and family. And he doesn't hesitate this time. Yes, he still has compassion for his enemies (he even goes to the Soul Society to ask for Ginjo's body so he can give him a proper burial), but he's learned not to hold back and he's learned that new threats will appear and he'd rather have the power to face them head on.

So then comes TYBW, and Ichigo is facing battles head-on without hesitation. He goes straight to the "bad guys" with the intention of cutting them down. He learns the truth about who his Inner Hollow is, and he accepts it. He's even willing to accept whatever consequences may come from training in the Royal Palace and becoming stronger. He accepts his power and potential fully, and learns that he has what it takes to protect his loved ones with his strength, and not with a sacrifice.

Ultimately, he heals the part of himself that thinks his life is worth less than other people's. He heals the part of himself that blames himself for not protecting his mother (when he was 9!! Like come on Isshin, put the kid in therapy!! Anyway...) He grows into someone who knows his self worth. And I think, for me at least, that makes him one of my favourite protagonists of all time. Because can't most of us relate to feeling worthless at times? And don't we also wanna overcome that?

Thanks for reading my ramble lmao, I'm sure this could have been more elegantly written but I'm very sleepy and just wanted to get my thoughts out there.

[blondedmuse]

SUMMER DAYS

synopsis. ꩜ what it’s like to spend your summer days at Saltburn.

author’s note. ∿ this was supposed to be a drabble/headcannon but i can’t write anything short it seems; allusions to smut, fluff.

at breakfast

you sat next in between Venetia and Farleigh, across from your lover, Felix. Sir James would ask you if you slept well and had a good night, a kind and common courtesy for any guest he’s hosting at his home. Everyone turned to you as you nodded, recalling the night before. It was spent in Felix’s room, his hand over your mouth as you moaned, careful not to wake anyone up.

“Yes, I slept well,” You answered. Everyone probably noted that your hair indicated other wise, just slightly messier and unkempt than it’s usually been in the morning. But you wondered if everyone could see the cheeky smile on the boy across from you at the table.

in the pool

You swam after breakfast with Venetia while the boys sat in the lounge chairs. You’d asked Felix to swim with you but he insisted he'd finish the book he was reading. While Farleigh got into the pool after a few splashes from Venetia, it seemed as though Felix needed more convincing.

"Don't you wanna get in the pool?" You asked Felix, crawling up his body on the chair. "The water's nice, it'll cool you down-" he started tickling you before you could finish your argument, trying to get your wet body away from his.

"Christ, you're cold!" He laughed as you attempted to fight back, pushing away his arms with yours.

"Fine, you want me to go in?" He caved, picking your body up from on top of him and walking over to the ledge of the pool. "You first."

You screamed as Felix threw you from his arms into the hair, hitting the water with a splash. Felix followed suit, diving in right after.

"Is this what you wanted, darling?" He said swimming over to you and you wrapped your legs around his frame underwater, bringing him closer to you.

"Exactly." You answered, locking your lips with him only for your kiss to be interrupted by Farleigh's fake gags.

"Get a room!"

on the court

you were invited for a match of tennis. You changed from your bathing suit attire into a silk dress, a pair of sunglasses and heels, which is not necessarily ideal for the sport but you wanted to follow formalities. You and Felix were paired together for the doubles game against Farleigh and Venetia.

It was nonchalant the way you all played, slightly lethargic from the champagne you’d been drinking. Still, Felix managed to keep the score and in the final game of the second set you scored the winning point for your team. And to celebrate Felix lifted you off the ground, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Fantastic job, love!” He laughed, spinning you around.

“Felix, put me down!” You exclaimed, slapping his back playfully in between giggles.

“Did you guys see that?” He taunted the other team. “We have a new Wimbledon star over here,” He beamed jokingly and Farleigh was quick to flash him the finger, watching Felix pop another bottle of Champagne.

in the field

You laid bare on your stomach, a cigarette hanging out the side of your mouth as you read one of the few books you packed with you.

"There you are," Felix said, stripping off his suit from earlier's tennis match. "You like what you see?" He asked as he watched you stare intently and he shot you a coy wink.

"You know it, baby," You replied, lifting the sunglasses to rest on your head so you could see Felix in all his glory.

"They say it's rude to stare," he declared, walking over to you and sitting down on the ground next to you.

"Then I guess I'm the meanest bitch alive," You smiled and he plucked the cigarette from your mouth. You gasped, (jokingly) jaw dropped.

"They also say it's rude to take things that aren't yours."

He raised his eyebrow playfully as he took a drag, teasing you. You rolled your eyes and he laid down next to you.

"They also say sharing is caring," He exhaled.

You scoffed with a chuckle. "Shut up. Who is 'they’ anyway?" You questioned and he shrugged, offering you your own smoke back. Nonetheless you accepted it as he kept it steady while you took a drag. Your head rested on his shoulder as you puffed out the grey odor, and he watched in admiration. He observed how the sunlight pooled in your eyes and the way your lips curved as you breathed out the stench in clouds. Sure, Saltburn was his house, but the weight of your head on his shoulder made you feel like home, and he appreciated every moment of it.

at dinner

you felt intimated by the sophisticated customs at Saltburn and dinner was no different. You sat at the large dining table next to Felix, his hand on your thigh.

"You look beautiful, my love," He told you as he passed you a bottle of wine, which you gladly accepted. You were dressed in an evening gown to match the black tie attire everyone else had shown up in, yet you still felt out of place like a sore thumb. You poured a glass of wine, hoping it would ease your anxiety.

"Not too much, darling," Felix warned, giving a slight squeeze to your leg. He could sense your nervousness, having been watching you toy with your jewelry for the past five minutes. But, he didn't want you falling over yourself by the end of the night either. You looked around and everybody seemed to be occupied with conversation of the company around them so it seemed like you were in clear to have a side conversation with your lover.

"I know, I just feel like I don't belong here."

Felix grabbed the hand that was fidgeting with your necklace and brought it to his mouth, his lips leaving a delicate kiss on your skin.

"You of all people deserve to be here. There's nothing to worry about." You didn't say anything, only huffed as you bit your lip. "And if you don't believe me and you still feel nervous, just squeeze my hand alright?"

You nodded, accepting his offer and holding his hand in yours as the woman next to him dragged him into another conversation. Still, when you squeezed his hand, it was always reciprocated, Felix unable to ignore you.

at the lake

you and Felix giggled, arms linked together as you headed towards the body of water. You excused yourselves from dinner early—dragging on with meaningless conversation you began to zone out from, and Felix was just as bored as you. Dinner wasn't usually like this but the additive guests, the Henry's, seemed to dull the excitement with their own stories solely for the purpose of one-upping the Cattons it seemed. So, Felix came up with an excuse for the both of you, something along the lines of 'you weren't feeling well' and he 'needed to take care of you' which wasn't entirely untrue. Boredom is an uncomfortable feeling which Felix needed to take care of by something more fun.

"Thank you for that but why did you have to make me the damsel in distress? They're going to think I'm a snob," You whined.

"They would never. But me on the other hand? Yeah I think you're a snob. Making me carry your heels is outrageous," He teased with your shoes in his hand and you shook your head unable to hide your soft giggles.

"But they do love you y'know."

"Whatever," You mumbled and you felt your feet lift off the ground as Felix threw you over his shoulder. You watched him put your heels down and the ground started to move below you.

"Felix! Put me down! Where are you-" You saw the edge of the lake and it clicked. "You are not throwing me in without a bathing suit! Felix, please!" You screamed, resorting to slapping his back.

"Quiet, love, you're gonna get us in trouble."

"I don't have another dress, put me down!" You demanded.

"You can borrow one, its fine." With that he threw you into the lake, your body sinking into the cold water.

"Felix!" You cried as you resurfaced, watching him stand at the lake's edge completely dressed and completely dry. "It's cold!" What am I supposed to wear after this?"

"You can take my jacket," He reassured you after he stripped himself of his suit, jumping into the lake after you, only clad in boxers.

He swam towards you. "You poor baby."

"It's cold."

"How 'bout I warm you up then?" His hands were at your sides, pulling up your dress under water, his mouth hot against your neck as he began to mark his territory. You knew now that the night would end with you in his bed like it had for the past week, and you would be asked about it all over again at breakfast—but there's no other way you'd want to spend your nights and summer days.

[fuctacles]

wiggly wormy wednesday

Thanks @formosusiniquis for tagging me!!! Here's a thing inspired by that one fanart of Eddie in that one t-shirt that I can't find now

Steve works during the summer as a pool boy. 

It's a good ego boost as he's been in high demand among the housewives in the area. His schedule is full, to the point he has to start declining some offers to have time for himself. When his phone rings with another job offer, he doesn't reject it right away because he's startled to hear a man's voice for a change. Then he hears he'll double the salary and he agrees. 

The address he jotted down leads him to the oldest mansion in town, dark and looming over the neighborhood. He understands the raise in money now and is glad that he told Robin where he'll be. 

The gate is open, so he pushes his way through the artfully neglected garden towards the door, where a note is waiting for him.

You'll find cleaning tools in the shed. Knock on the back door when you're done.

Steve knew of eccentric old people but this one was slowly taking the cake. He rounds the estate to find the pool behind it, and the cake is pulled out of his grip. Who in their right mind paints the pool red? 

By the state it's in, it probably hasn't been used in weeks. The surface is fully covered in leaves and twigs, and the tiles around it are covered in grime. It's a wild 180 after being called to clean pools just so he can hand out sodas and towels to a group of old ladies, but he rolls up his sleeves and gets to work.

Every now and then, he looks up from his work, expecting to find someone ogling him, but he never finds anyone. It's a weird thing to consider a constant of his job, but he came to expect it. Double-checking that he's really alone, he starts humming to himself to make the time go faster. If he's ever called here again, he might take a radio or a walkman with him. 

He's done surprisingly fast, with the sun still high when he goes to knock on the back door. His curiosity is through the roof to see what kind of person his employer is. 

He hears a click by his feet and when he looks down, he realizes the cat door has spat out an envelope. Inside he finds his payment and a note. 

Will double it if you come at 5pm next week

So Steve does, not worried much because the sun is still up, even if it casts ominous shadows around the mansion. 

In one of these dark corners, he spots a lawn chair, the shade doubled with a huge umbrella over it. He wonders if this time, some rich lady is going to join him. Or, the tiny bi-curious bone in his body supplies, the guy who hired him. For the time being, he focuses on his task. 

It's so dark, that he almost misses it. But when he does a double take as he's swiping the poolside, he yells. 

On the chair in the double shade, wearing all black, a huge straw hat, and sunglasses, sits a figure. Steve's eyes are confused as to why they're seeing a black-and-white picture in the middle of his technicolor world. 

The figure raises its hand, making its features more distinguishable. 

"Sorry!" says a voice Steve vaguely recognizes from the phone call. "Don't mind me, just getting my money's worth!" The man grins, sharp and bright, and relaxes against the chair with intent to stay, a glass of wine held in his hand.

Steve considers him for all of two seconds, before grabbing at the bottom of his t-shirt. Fuck it. This is what half of the job is about anyway.

The fabric hits the ground, and he gets a surprisingly goofy whoop of approval. 

tagging if u wanna join: @stevesjockstrap @yesdangerpls @stevieharringtonwifeguy @doublecherrypiediscosuperfly @adverbally

[ohbo-ohno]

I REALLY wanna see Johnny get mad! Like white hot angry at reader. Don’t know what/how it happened but Johnny’s gonna make all of reader’s poor holes suffer🥺

Maybe Simon gets surprised and turned on by his pup’s newfound aggressiveness

3.6k pwp soap drabble 4 u (cw for referenced burning building, angry sex, some light mutual degradation/objectification, and voyeurism since ghost watches)

You fume silently, face hot with rage while you and Soap walk side by side behind Ghost down the base hallways. There's a tension at the base of your neck that you just know is going to become a migraine if you don't get some medicine soon, and your bones ache from going too long without sleep.

Soap's somehow even stiffer beside you, the distance between you two small but intentional. Usually he's impossible to pry off of you, always brushing against you and looking for more physical contact, but since you landed he's kept at least half a foot between you two at all times.

Fine by you. You don't want him touching you right now anyway.

The silence is thick as Ghost leads you two to his room, his shoulders loose and relaxed.

He's got no reason to be tense, you suppose. He's not the one who had a massive disagreement on the field, who had to drag his squadmate back from a blazing fire and deal with his bitching instead of his thanks.

Just the memory of it makes you scowl.

Ghost leads the two of you into his room in rare silence, though it's only rare because usually you and Johnny would already be teasing or flirting at this point. But you don't bother now, not with your anger so fresh in your mind.

Ghost is the only one to get settled once Johnny closes the door behind you. You two stand on opposite sides of the doorframe, both too tense to do much but stew in your own righteous anger, and Ghost starts to get dressed down into something more comfortable.

He lets the two of you stay quiet until he's fully changed into a tank top and sweats, no boxers then sits on the bed with an overly loud sigh.

"You two even gonna look at each other?"

Your lip curls as you glance at Johnny from the corner of your eyes. "I have nothing to say to him."

"'S not what I asked."

Your cheek twitches and you bite your tongue, rolling a sharp canine over it. "Honestly, Simon, I don't even want to see him right now."

Johnny scoffs, loud in the otherwise quiet room, and nearly stomps to your side, leaning in front of you to try and force eye contact. "Oh, really? Ye can't even look at me, huh? Had no problem lookin' earlier, when you were draggin' me away from my goddamn mission."

You want to growl, you want to rake your nails down his face and scream about what a fool he is, what a jackass, and you want to make him remember.

Some of your ire must shine through in your expression, and Johnny mirrors it, eyes sparking as he straightens and stands diagonally from you, chest nearly brushing your shoulder.

"Dragging you away from your death, more like," you sneer.

"Wasn't your place," he bites back, moving forward enough that you can feel the heat of him even through all your layers. "You aren't my fuckin' CO and I'm not yours - wasn't any of your business how I chose to execute my orders."

"It is when you chose to do it in the most lethal way possible! Fuck, MacTavish, had you taken half a second and listened to me-"

"Oh, that's all it woulda taken? Just had to shut my pretty lips and listen to you, jump before you even say how high? Newsflash, lass, you don't get to make those decisions."

"And you do?"

"In this case? Yeah, you're fuckin' right I do. Price said drag the man out, alive, and that's what I was doing."

"You ran into a burning building!"

"Under orders from our CO!"

"You know damn well that's not what he meant, Sergeant, cut the shit. The orders were to bring him back alive, not kill yourself in the process!"

"That's the job, Sergeant. You do whatever it takes to fulfill your orders."

You're both panting as he snarls the words, nose to nose and eye to eye, teeth bared in rage that feels almost primal. His close brush with death, the way you'd had to tackle him to keep him from running after the damn target, leaves you raw and unsteady. Had you been any weaker, any less filled by adrenaline and panic and something deeply possessive, you know Soap would've thrown you off and gotten himself killed. You were hardly able to hold him down until the screaming stopped as it was.

You take as deep a breath as you can with your heart racing, and reach up to wrap the collar of Johnny's shirt tight in your fist, dragging him so close that your noses brush, hot breaths shared.

"You don't get to fucking leave me." You shoot a glance over Johnny's shoulder, to where Ghost sits comfortably against the headboard of your shared bed. "Leave us. I won't let you."

It's the last sentence that has him bristling, that ruins your chance of a settled argument.

The only person who lets Soap do anything is Ghost. The two of you listen to your Lieutenant with no questions, no doubt, no hesitations, but the same doesn't go for your fellow Sergeant. Since the 141 had formed, you and Soap have been fighting for dominance over one another, both of you determined to establish your control of the other like Ghost has for both of you.

The insinuation that you would let Soap do anything isn't something he'll let slide.

Hours later, fucked raw and sated, you can admit to yourself that the wording was slightly intentional. But now, with the fresh wound of Soap's close call with death still stinging in your subconscious, you only mean it as a way to push his anger to the level yours has been at for hours now.

"Let me?" He rumbles, muscles relaxing as he steps forward enough to press his chest to yours, head ducked low so all you can see is Johnny. "You don't let me do shit, lass. Couldn't stop me if you tried."

You can't help the way your lips quirk up into a humorless smile, your fist tightening in the fabric of his shirt. "Had a pretty easy time of it earlier, MacTavish. Had you pinned and writhing under me, like a bitch-"

Before you can finish your taunt, you find yourself pinned to the door, a mouth covering yours.

Johnny's teeth are sharp against your lips as he nips at you, leaving behind a sting and a throb. You dig your nails into his shoulders, raking them down his arms and rumbling in dissatisfaction when his clothes keep him from feeling anything.

You bite back as you push at the hem of his shirt, desperate to get your hands on him and make him hurt. You trace your fingers over his abs as you get his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him down to your height and smirking at his glare.

You don't kiss so much as fight with lips instead of fists, there's no affection or softness between the two of you right now. You're nothing but your anger, but your desperation, and deep down your fear. You cling to Johnny with something verging on desperation, bite and scratch to make him feel even a bit of the pain you had at such a close call with death.

He leans almost his entire weight into yours to keep you pinned against the door, but you only have to shove at his shoulders a few times for him to get the hint and move backwards.

His lips never leave yours as you walk him back to the bed, his hands coming up to grip your thighs as he falls back and keeps you on top of him. You taste the slightest tang of iron as you shift your knees up next to his hips, squeezing his sides between your thighs and his tongue between your teeth.

"You gonna ride me?" He pants when you pull away for a breath of air, your hips working over the tent in his pants. "Think you're in charge, bonnie?"

You bare your teeth at him, grinding your core against the tent in his pants. “I’m not the one on my back, MacTavish.”

His smile is all teeth as he bucks his hips into yours, knocking you off balance so you’re forced to brace your hands on either side of his head. “I don’t need to be on top to keep you on a leash.”

It’s all too easy to hook your fingers in his throat mic - his collar. His pupils blow wide when you tug harshly enough to pull his head off the mattress, his hips following as he moans and grinds you down onto him with a bruising grip on your thighs.

“Down,” you smirk, leaning your weight back and forcing his hips to the bed, grinding your hips. “‘S my turn, Johnny. Gonna use you ‘til you’re wrung dry.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, then rests on his bottom lip instead of settling behind his teeth. You can’t resist the urge to lean down and lick over his lips, covering them in your own spit and groaning when he pulls you back into a proper kiss.

Despite your hand around his throat and your weight on top of his, you’re both equally in control as you strip the other. You can’t be bothered to wrestle his wrists to the bed, far preferring to let him paw your shirt and pants off while you tear the seams in his indecently tight shirt.

You only have the patience to get his pants to his knees, unwilling to help him kick them off for full mobility. Instead you grind yourself against his hard length, the soaked gusset of your underwear dragging wonderfully over both his cock and your clit.

You shift your hand on his neck so your palm is resting on his Adam’s apple, giving him just enough pressure to stay flattened to the bed.

He nearly growls when you push, the head of his cock getting caught in your panties and brushing the crease of your thigh. “Fuck, bonnie, get it on with.”

You blink down at him, cocking an unimpressed brow and shifting your hips so he slips between your folds, tucking your underwear to the side with your free hand. “You’re not in charge right now, MacTavish. I’m on top.”

“Only cause I’m lettin’ ya,” he pants, hips twitching as he tries to find your hole, tries to find a hole to sink into.

You lean down just far enough to bite the air in front of his nose, all feral rage and sexual frustration as you let yourself sit on his cock, holding him still beneath you. “You don’t let me do shit, I do whatever the fuck I want to. And right now, I want to ride you ‘til you stop fucking talking.”

You press your lips to his before he can bite back the response you see waiting on his tongue, letting your hips move in the way that feels best for you as you lick over his teeth.

Johnny’s always loved making out. When Ghost keeps him locked up, or he’s just not allowed to fuck you, he’ll happily spend hours with your lips glued together, dry humping each other and swapping spit. You can’t even count the number of times he’s come in his pants while thrusting against your hip or your side, driven over the edge by just a kiss.

You take advantage of that now, keeping one hand on his throat and the other circling the base of his throbbing cock so you can line yourself up above him. He’s far too distracted with your lips and tongue to remember he could tug you down on him at any moment, could flip the two of you with hardly any effort at all.

Despite the complete lack of prep, your body takes Johnny easily, the familiar stretch making you moan as you sink down onto him with one smooth movement. You blink open wet eyes just in time to see Johnny’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when your ass rests against him, his cock buried inside of you.

You don’t let yourself rest for long, though most days you love to just feel the weight of either of your boys inside of you. But that current of anger is still pulsing beneath your skin, and all the hot, sweat slick contact between you and Johnny only makes you feel more desperate.

Your pace is merciless, for both him and yourself. Your knees and thighs scream as you slam yourself to the base of Johnny’s cock, making sure you pull off nearly to the tip on every thrust. Without a hand around his throat, you’d have lost your balance on the first thrust.

Johnny’s pulse thunders against your fingers, so fast and so harsh that you swear you can ever see your fingertips twitching against his throat. His breaths are quick and erratic, and you can’t help but subconsciously match his breathing with your faces as close together as they are.

“So fucking good,” you moan, rolling your hips as you lift yourself off of him, dragging the head of his cock along your walls. Your voice cracks when he bucks his hips up, and you’re relieved that he’s already too blissed out to notice, lost in the tight vice of your cunt. 

“Yeah?” Johnny pants, tongue nearly lolling out of his mouth when you pull away fully. “Stuff you just right, yeah, lass?”

You bite your tongue against an agreement, some deep part of you that’s not quite drunk on pleasure yet unwilling to give Johnny that kindness. Instead you shift your weight, so that your hand is more cupping Johnny’s jaw and putting pressure on his head instead of his neck, letting you really push him down and get the proper leverage to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“Perfect fucking-” you shudder against the words, moan when he rubs just over your g-spot and repeating the same motion with your hips again and again. “Perfect fucking toy, so nice to ride.”

The sound Johnny makes is purely animalistic, torn between anger and desperation, something rough and low in his throat. You can feel the rumble of it through your hand and can’t help but moan in return, finally nearing your peak even as your legs continue to burn.

Neither of you speaks as you ride him, your head hanging low so you’re eye-level with his nipples and focused entirely on your own pleasure. The way your muscles scream at you only fills you with more need, more desperation, and the pain pushes you closer and closer to the edge. Your clit grinds just right over the rough patch of Soap’s pubic hair, soaking it in your juices and covering him in slick.

You reach your peak with gasping breaths, nearly going cross-eyed as you use Johnny entirely for your own pleasure, using him as nothing more than something to hold yourself up on and a toy to ride. Your muscles go completely lax as your pleasure overwhelms you, leaving you slumped against his muscular chest as you ride out the orgasm with small rolls of your hips.

Johnny’s still rock hard inside of you as you come down, his grip on your thighs tight enough to bruise. Your hand has slipped from underneath his collar to the mattress next to his face, and you don’t have the energy to push yourself up and away, to deny him like you’d intended.

Your lungs feel too small as you try to take deep gasping breaths, only managing a few before your lungs start hitching. Johnny’s chest rises and falls quickly beneath your head, his heart pounding beneath your ear.

You don’t have time to brace yourself before you’re flipped onto your stomach, face down on the mattress.

One moment you’re floating in post-orgasmic bliss, letting your body clench down on Johnny and milk him, the next moment you’re on your knees with your back forced into a deep arch, that same cock pounding into you like a machine.

Your groan is bone deep when you finally lift your head enough to breathe, eyes rolled heavenward as your body tries its best to adjust to the harsh treatment.

“Show you a fucking toy,” Johnny snarls from over your shoulder, his voice sounding distant beneath the blood rushing through your ears. “Think ye can just treat me like fucking nothing, get yerself off then take a fucking nap? Nah, yer gonna take what ye fucking deserve.”

The thickening of Johnny’s accent has you gushing around him, your sensitive channel clenching down so hard that you’re surprised he can pull out at all. 

Johnny’s hand wraps in your hair when you try to let your head fall forward again, yanking you back with enough strength to leave you yowling at the strain on your neck.

“Don’t fucking hide,” he hisses, landing a sharp slap on the meat of your ass. “Think ye can just shove yer head in the sand? Let me fuckin’ hear you, lass, sing f’r me.”

“Fu-uck you,” you manage to groan, syllables interrupted on every thrust, your voice cracking. “You’re not- fuck, Johnny, don’t have to listen to you.”

You can practically hear the way he gnashes his teeth over your shoulder, can perfectly envision the angry snarl on his face at your lack of submission.

“Ye will. Gonna teach ye a fuckin’ lesson about yer place.”

You try your best to rear up, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare as best you can despite the grip on your hair. “My place? Who the hell  do you think- oh fuck, fuck, Johnny, you can’t- goddamnit-”

“Can’t even get a goddamn word out.” Even from your terrible angle you can see that his smile is mean. “Think ye can be in charge when ye can’t even finish a sentence? Fuckin’ fool.”

You nearly shriek when he shoves your head down to the mattress, clawing fruitlessly at anything in front of you. You only freeze when you feel flesh give way underneath your nails, the hard muscles of a thick thigh under your palm.

You can just barely angle your head enough to glance up and see Simon looking down at you, but you can’t manage to see anything past his general shape with the way Soap is trying to shove you inside the mattress.

Ghost’s hand comes to rest on your head, and when you lean into him he pushes Johnny’s fingers off.

“Watch it, pup,” he rumbles, and Johnny’s hips stutter behind you. “You’re already in trouble. Do you really wanna make it worse?”

Your self-righteous smirk is hidden in the sheets, but you can’t fully muffle your laugh when Johnny’s whines over your shoulder. The sound quickly morphs into a snarl, and he buries his teeth into your shoulder as his hips start to work again, the sound of his balls slapping against your soaked cunt obscene.

Johnny wraps his arms beneath your torso, hooking his hands on your shoulders so he can tug you into every thrust, moving his face up to nose at your throat. You feel covered by him, consumed by him, as he chases his own pleasure.

You don’t quite manage to get off before he empties himself inside you, but there’s a deep satisfaction in your bones that still lets you melt into him.

Johnny’s all heat and power at your back as he goes weak against you, and a small shove to his shoulder from Ghost has both of you resting on your sides, spooning with his cock still buried inside of you.

Your breaths sync with his quickly, matching the inhales and exhales you can feel against your neck and the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

Your eyes flutter shut, relaxing into the bed and Johnny’s arms. You know that you’ll have to Talk later, about what he’d done and how you’d responded. But you know it’ll be an easier conversation after Ghost’s punishment, when all of your consciousness has eased a bit.

“There ya go,” you hear Ghost say, followed by a soft stroke over your head. “Exhausted yourselves, huh? Silly pups.”

You hum and Johnny rumbles behind you, burying his face more fully in your throat. You feel Ghost’s other hand pet over his mohawk, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.

“I guess you can nap.” Ghost sighs, like he’s doing you both a great favor. “You’ll both need all your energy for your punishment, anyway. Breakin’ damn near every rule in the book just cause you got a little worked up. What am I gonna do with the two of you?”

You don’t have the energy to respond, and the best Johnny manages is a small and plaintive whine. Ghost chuckles from above you, and you feel him lay in front of you, his arms wrapping around Johnny’s back and tugging you both to him.

“Yeah, yeah,  I know. Just relax now, you’re alright.”

It’s easy to drift off, even if the heat is near suffocating and the stretch of Johnny’s cock verges on the edge of too much. You’re loose-limbed and sated, and Johnny’s safe beside you. There’s little else you could ever want, ever need, and you can’t be much more than grateful as you fall asleep between your men.

[deesseshesca]

PAC : What is your desire reality ?

Stay ! They don't love you like I love you...

Good morning pretty soul ! I am so excited ... IS OFFICIALLY KINKTOBER ! DAY : 4-5

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Your future lover| SEX Douala =SALE READING

PILE 1 

Death, 3 pentacles (reverse), 10 swords 

The end of your relationship is imminent, which is necessary. Y’all sitting so far away from each other that you look like a stranger. Y’all do love each other but don’t like each other. Meaning there's good intention, respect and affection for one and other but you can’t stand each other.  They are always choosing work over you. There’s nothing you can do. A situation is going to present itself in which you have no other choice but part away and a sense of relief will come mixed with worryness. Because you will finally be free from that problem. The reality is that this connection was built on shallow foundations. You went for them because they loved their work and were well off. So you feel secure that they have their shit together which safely help you blossom some romantic feelings but you quickly realize that you need more than just a provider to feel content. WARNING: You are soon going to reach your breaking point. I feel like you come from a family of bitter women. Who loves to hold down bums and loves to walk around saying ‘’he knows where home is ‘’ knowing damn well he has 3 babies on her. Others your own mom will always choose her little bf(s) before you. So you are scared that they are going to bully you because you choose a better man yet you're unhappy. First let them, old crooked big back bitter ugly wrinkly  faces bitches rot on their own. You decided you wanted more for yourself and you went for it. Whatever their old ass bitches with no teeth are saying is more than worthless. Now you actually know what you want and need and don’t let the validation of men dictate your life. Second, babe is not because a person does not change for you that you are undeserving of success. You were not made to prove your worth. You are not going to spend you whole life changing in hope to blend with your environments for fuck sake. You think you want to be chosen but you really want to be worth it. I am here to tell you that YOU ARE. Even though you grew up in a toxic environment, you took upon yourself to do the change. You parent yourself. You took it upon you to get a degree, get a car, get an appartement (in this fucking economy) and have a enough financial literacy to vacay twice a year. You don’t even realize that u are GOALS. Your inner child is proud of you, you have no idea. Stop trying to convince others and start choosing you !

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PILE 2 

7 wands, Knight swords, 6 wands, 3 wands 

Y’all want better but are not ready for the work necessary to achieve it. I am hearing Suki saying : ‘’Obstacles … What's obstacles ? I don’t know Obstacles…’’ Bitch is not because you are ignoring the obstacle that is not standing ahead of you. Y'all are also living in  poor areas. A lot of y’all the only heritage you have is poverty. Some of y’all live in the same house, in the same neighborhood from generation to generation. Is the only thing that your family has to their name. 

You are young (less than 25 years old). You have all the energy necessary to mold your raw potential. Your family may not support you in your endeavor towards a life of financial freedom not because they have ill intent but because they do not want you to be disappointed in it. They are so used to their rough financial situation that they are even proud of it. I’m hearing: ‘’ We always make it work …’’. But I swear they will support you sooner than you think because they seriously love you. When you are going to be sitting in a place that is more comfortable you are going to inspire a lot of aunties in your life to aim for more. You are going to be the blueprint of a change in your family finances. 

FEMININE ENERGY 

You are on the way to becoming nurses. Is one of your passions because serving and helping others are the times that you feel the most appreciated and valued. I see a future of intense but not so heavy schedule, big fat check, the shopping spree and the vacay whenever however. The most important is the pouring from your patient, family patient, your coworkers and community in praise for how amazing of a human not just a nurse you are. Y’all may even have your own charity to give back especially to  the neighborhood in which you grew up in. 

MASCULINE ENERGY 

Your life has been stagnant lately and you are seriously thinking about joining the army. GREEN LIGHT. Your spiritual team is supporting you in that path. The way your brain function is going to bring a plus to the disciplinary structure of the military. That switch of career is exactly what you need. 

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PILE 3 

10 pentacles, 4 swords (reverse), Knight of cups, 8 pentacles 

Your energy SCREAMS influencer. Deep down in your soul all you want is peace. Y’all come from an extremely toxic household. 

Your dream reality is a happy household. Where there’s no constant screaming. Loving a supportive family of your own. A family that has an extremely strong bond that no matter what life throws at y’all, you guys come out even closer to each other. Living life with a husband/wife that doesn't mind sharing tasks. That enjoys changing the diaper, waking up early every morning to brew coffee for the both of y’all because he/she loves you and most importantly that LOVES spending time with his/hers kids. You want your home to be a synonym of a comfort place for your kids and a refuge for your partner. You want it to be your safe haven. Is not about everything going perfect but instead it is all about the constant happiness in the mundane from each member of the family. I see y’all with your hair in a bun, wearing a red t-shirt walking half asleep towards a crib of a baby girl. After leaving the warm embrace of your partner, who soon follows after you after y’all attempt to watch a movie. Even though you spend the whole day taking care of a newborn who woke up because his big brother was screaming at his video game. I’m hearing : ‘’ Sorry, mom !’’. I think that baby girl is a surprise baby because there is an age gap between your last one and her. Babe imma look deep into your eyes (as deep as the computer screen allows me), you deserve it. I know you are tired of the physical abuse you are experiencing in your family and you don’t want to stand up and speak your truth because you don’t want to end up in the system. So imma need y’all to lean on your friend. Because you need a safe place to release before that pain kills you. I feel like y’all have an amazing friend group and you need to stop focusing on the  big goal and take it step by step. I just ear you : ‘’ Who are u to tell me what to do ?’’ Answer: ‘’A bitch way more familiar with abuse than u think’’. Your life will not change overnight. You need to do a lot of healing before that reality comes to you. I know y’all are tired, everytime u build, your family fuck up. Imma tell you the way it is … they keep breaking because you allow it. When you stop seeking validation from them in a form of seeking understanding you are going to realize that you should have never sought validation from your abuser. I know that’s your parents but 2 truths can coexist trust me. Why the heck would you want validation from broken people when all you truly want is a wholesome family ? Do you take financial advice from a broke person when you want to make money ?. The sooner you are going to start living for yourself the faster that reality becomes yours. Stop thinking a man/woman is going to save you. Love won't make you see the light. Only you can bring yourself  out of your hole and then will the reward of love present itself. A lot of y’all want to be elementary or highschool teachers. I keep seeing someone strolling on tiktok, looking through ‘’ Day in the life of a teacher…’’. Some others of  y’all are actively studying towards a degree in education and the success and joy you are going to feel when walking the podium is going to be so overwhelming. Because you are the reason behind it. You are the one who put all the chances behind you to make your dream happen even though your biggest enemy was supposed to be your biggest supporter. Stay focus babe, everyone knows you deserve it more than anyone. You are the only one that seems to be missing the memo by the way you are behaving. 

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[dramadramallama]

So. The Time of Fever. The story is pretty simple, but it was elevated by some choice cinematography and music... sooooo let me take two seconds to gush about the two kissing scenes.

Both scenes are shot to convey something very specific (how special the characters are to each other) and although not much is said, a lot is implied. I don't know how intentional it was, but they also end up almost a perfect "reverse" of each other.

The bare bones of the two scenes are as follows:

Kissing Scene 1: infirmary (public setting, neutral white, Dong-hee takes care of Ho-tae's wound)

tension, uncertainty/confusion, complicated feelings (shaky cam, tense dialogue)

something sets it in motion ("hyung")

music starts

slow and steady - dreamlike atmosphere (tension released)

outside interruption, music stops - back to reality, tension back up

Kissing Scene 2: bedroom/house (private setting, heavy color-coded, ends in pain for both of them)

comforting, easy-going, chill vibe (steady cam, silent book reading)

something sets it in motion (hand feeding)

no music

shakiness, quick movements - raw, not romanticized (tension goes way up)

minimal music - self-interruption - got a lil too real, tension goes down

If you watch them back to back it's even more obvious, I love iiiiiit. The contrast of it all!! YES. Sorry for my ugly GIFs, I just wanna illustrate my points lol

In the first scene, Dong-hee and Ho-tae let down their guard and enter a bubble of peacefulness, before it bursts. The scene starts off with quick, nervous dialogue, no music. The shots go from tight to even tighter, and the camera shakes a lot, reflecting the ambient tension.

The music, gentle and hopeful, starts as soon as both of them "fold". Ho-tae agrees to use the hyung honorific for the first time since ep1, and Dong-hee gently goes in for the kiss. The scene is drenched in white, the camera movements slow, to the point it's hard to notice whether they themselves are moving slowly or if there's a subtle slow-mo effect applied. It's unhurried, like they have all the time in the world.

The music swells into something very airy and dreamy as soon as their lips touch; the camera steadies, the shakiness fades—the surroundings too. Even when the camera pulls back a little, the framing is minimal—you can't even distinguish where they are anymore (in a school infirmary, behind a curtain, against a window). The only thing in focus is their faces, the rest is slightly blurry or washed out. It's not just visually that things fade out, there's also barely any background noise: no ruffle of their clothes, no school chatter, no bird chirping. it's just them, floating on a cloud, the heaviness of the moment gone, the initial anxiety soothed.

The moment, the music, the kiss—everything is interrupted abruptly by an outside element: the school bell. The bubble pops, like a dream they both wake up from—signaling the end of recess, back to harsh reality. Their eyes open, they freeze, and just like that, the camera shakes are immediately back.

The scene unfolds smoothly and clearly: it takes the characters from a moment of tension, to sweet release, steadiness, and calmness—it starts from something complicated and changes to something pure and easy, like a knot being unraveled—and then snaps them back to reality.

The contrast with the second kissing scene, happening in the same episode (!) is nothing but art tbh. Like I said, it looks like the reverse of that first scene, but it unfolds the same way. This time, it starts off quiet and gets thick with tension.

First, they're at home, not in a public space. It's not day-time. They're lying down. The private, safe atmosphere of the scene is reinforced by the warm colors. It's late autumn, it's getting cold. They set up a space-heater (it casts a reddish brown hue over them), place a comfy (red) carpet on the floor to keep the heat in and to laze around on. The camera is steady, the framing comfortable, no shakiness.

They're still facing each other, one is on his back, looking up to his book, the other one is on his stomach, looking down as his own. Everything conveys a cosy, relaxed but intimate vibe, without any agitation. Ho-tae is snacking absentmindedly on some seasonal fruit (clementine/mandarin). There's no talking. There's also absolutely no music. You hear everything, from the distant creaking of the house, to the pages rubbing together, to the crickets outside.

Then, comes what sets the scene into motion: Ho-tae feeds Dong-hee some fruit. Dong-hee takes it into his mouth easily. The mood switches. A lot of close-ups, and the camera movements become shakier, more chaotic: tension goes from 0 to 100. Where there was a lightness, softness to that first kissing scene, it's pretty much the complete opposite here. It's more intense, but there's a sort of ache, an urgency to it that was completely absent in the first scene. The breathing gets heavier, louder, no music to cut through the reality of it. It's been a while since I've seen such an erotic scene, without it being explicit.

When it does come, the music kicks in very slowly, just a few low notes of piano, not enough to cover the noises (the kisses, the breathing), the initial warmth of the scene becomes almost stifling. And just a few seconds later, everything abruptly stops once again, but this time, Dong-hee himself is the one putting an end to it. The camera very slowly tones down the shakiness, back to steady.

In this scene, the characters' comfort and peace crumble, the kiss doesn't appease, it lights a fire. Gets them inflamed and exposed. Takes them from innocence and easiness to desire and hurt, from sanity to fever. The hazy, nice moment catches fire and burns up too fast. Like Ho-tae's fingers twisting knots into Dong-hee's sweater, the feelings gets tangled up, and both end up getting hurt.

The first kissing scene was the beginnings of some clarity, they both let go of what holds them down, while that second scene is charged with angst, it weighs heavily on them. The parallel was just so good I needed to get this out.

[rebelliousmuse]

Diss Track - M.S and C.S.

Warnings: slight smut, unprotected p in v (use condoms).

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

Matt and you have been casually dating for a few months now. You've developed a comfortable, easygoing friendship with benefits. He's a wonderful guy—sweet, kind, incredibly attractive, and always keeps you entertained with his interesting stories and unique perspective.

Today, he's heading to a recording studio with his brothers Nick and Chris to film a humorous video where they'll playfully tease and diss each other.

Since you're good friends with Nick, he asked you to join him at the studio. He mentioned that he didn't want to be bored while his brothers were busy recording their diss tracks. You gladly agreed and soon enough, they arrived at your place to pick you up.

After a short drive, you pulled up to the recording studio. Sam, their friend, was already there, ready to start working on the diss tracks. Sam's expertise would be crucial in bringing the brothers' playful feud to life. Before diving into the recording, they began brainstorming, writing down random phrases and ideas to form the foundation of their diss tracks.

Once they felt prepared, Matt and Chris stepped up to the mic taking turns. The initial jabs were playful, each brother delivering witty insults with a smirk. However, as the session progressed, the tone began to shift. One of Matt's lines, a particularly pointed remark about Chris's questionable eating and constant soda drinking habits, seemed to pierce through Chris's facade. His expression flickered with annoyance since Matt always annoyed him with those things, but he quickly masked it with a forced smile.

Sam, being close friends with Chris, sensed the underlying tension. His keen eye noticed the subtle change in Chris's demeanor, the way his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. To prevent any further escalation, Sam intervened, suggesting a short break. As the brothers retreated outside the studio, Sam could feel the residual heat of their unspoken rivalry. He hoped the brief respite would allow them to regain their composure and return to the playful spirit of the original plan.

Ever the curious one, you decided to stay behind to explore the studio equipment. Intrigued by the music industry, you wanted to learn more about the tools and techniques used to create music. As you were engrossed in examining a particular piece of gear, Chris entered the room. He found you gazing intently at the equipment with a look of fascination on your face.

"Hey, I thought you'd be with Nick getting snacks," Chris said, a small smile playing on his lips. He gestured towards the door, indicating that Nick had left to grab refreshments for everyone.

"Oh, I didn't know he'd left," you replied slightly taken aback. "I was just, you know, admiring Sam's studio. It's really impressive." Chris continued to smile with his gaze lingering on you a bit longer than necessary. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks and nervously averted your eyes back to the equipment, trying to avoid his intense stare.

"Wanna take a closer look at the record room?" Chris asked, leading you towards the room where he and Matt had just been trading insults. He held the door open for you to enter and followed closely behind.

"Aren't all these lights a bit distracting?" you asked, a bit overwhelmed by the bright blue lights illuminating the room.

Chris chuckled, "A little," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "But you kind of get used to it after a while."

"Right... and what does this button do?" you questioned, reaching up to touch a button. Chris quickly stepped closer, his hand hovering over yours. "Don't touch that," he warned, a hint of amusement in his voice.

He gently took your hand in his. As you realized how close he was, your heart pounded in your chest. Your eyes met, and you couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance to Matt, yet with a unique allure that set him apart. His eyes, held a captivating intensity that drew you in. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the strange feeling. You were supposed to be attracted to Matt, your friend with benefits. But as your gaze held, an inexplicable pull drew you closer. Your body unconsciously leaned in.

The soft glow of the studio lights cast an ethereal glow on his face, highlighting his sharp features and full lips. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you became increasingly aware of the intimacy of the moment. A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers intertwined with yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Without warning, he closed the gap between you two, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. You gasped softly and felt your body instantly melting into the embrace. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him. In response, your hands instinctively tangled themselves in his soft, brown hair, deepening the kiss.

The kiss started soft and sweet, but soon turned hungry and demanding. His lips trailed down your jawline, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His tongue teased your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. His lips found your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin, making your breath hitch. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his touch.

His hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your form. He pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours in another searing kiss. When he finally pulled away, his eyes met yours, and he saw the same intense desire and lust mirrored back at him. He smirked, his eyes darkening with desire. "Let me show you how good I can make you feel, baby," he purred, his voice low and husky. Before you could respond, he recaptured your lips in a desperate kiss, his tongue dancing with yours. His hands found the hem of your dress, tugging at the fabric. As his fingers grazed your skin, a wave of anticipation washed over you.

The intensity of the moment was electrifying. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and your own temperature was rising in response. His touch was both gentle and demanding. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his, eager for more. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that sent shivers down your spine. You moaned softly, your body trembling with anticipation.

As his hands worked their way under your dress, you felt a surge of excitement. You knew what was coming next, and you couldn't wait.

"We need to make this quick, though. We still gotta finish that video," Chris murmured against your skin, his voice low and urgent. Despite the urgency, his touch was gentle as he slid your underwear off. You mirrored his actions, your fingers fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

The intensity of the moment was palpable. The soft hum of the equipment provided a rhythmic backdrop to your passionate encounter. As you felt the cool air against your skin, a shiver ran through your body. You met Chris's gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of lust and anticipation. He responded with a knowing smirk, his eyes dark with desire.

With a swift movement he positions himself between your thighs, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance. The weight of his body against yours sent a thrill through you, igniting a fire within. With a swift thrust of his hips, Chris sheathes himself fully within you, stretching and filling you in the most delicious way. You gasp and close your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the raw, primal desire that consumed you.

"Look at me, wanna see those pretty eyes as I make you mine," Chris grunted, his voice low and rough. His movements were deliberate, each thrust a deliberate assault on your senses. The intensity in his eyes mirrored the passion in his actions. You met his gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of desire and surrender. As he continued to move, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the moment, your body arching involuntarily with each powerful thrust.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in his mind. What if he could capture this moment, the raw, unfiltered pleasure in your voice? He could use the recording to relive the intensity of this moment later that night. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he discreetly pulled out his phone and began recording. He watched as your face contorted with pleasure, your moans and whimpers filling the room. A smirk crept across his face as he captured the sound of your ecstasy.

The soft glow of the studio lights illuminated your intertwined bodies, casting an intimate glow on the scene. The rhythmic sounds of your bodies filled the air, a symphony of passion and desire. Chris's grip tightened, his movements growing more intense. Your nails dug into his back, leaving a trail of marks. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body trembling with anticipation.

As you reached your peak, your body arched involuntarily, your cries filling the room. Chris, too, was on the brink, his breaths ragged and his body slick with sweat. In that moment, time seemed to stand still.

After the intense encounter, you and Chris took a moment to catch your breath. You were both flushed and breathless. Once you had composed yourselves, you joined Nick, Sam, and Matt outside the studio.

-----------

Back inside the studio, Matt, fueled by the adrenaline of his earlier encounter with Chris and the lingering tension between them, stepped into the recording booth to finish the bars of his verse. He continued his diss track, each line more cutting than the last. He mocked Chris's fashion sense, and his lack of romantic success. The words were delivered with a venomous tone, each syllable dripping with contempt. Chris, visibly annoyed, listened to the recording, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as Matt's insults cut deep.

When it was Chris's turn to respond to Matt's barbs, he paused before entering the recording booth. He handed his phone to Sam, whispering a quick instruction that only the two of them could hear. A mischievous glint twinkled in his eyes as he shot Matt a narrowed stare. He then stepped into the booth, ready to deliver his counterattack.

"When I give you the signal, alright, man?" Chris whispered to Sam, who nodded in understanding. As Chris began to record, Sam prepared to execute their plan. The tension in the room was palpable. Matt, smug and confident, leaned back, anticipating Chris's feeble attempt at a rebuttal.

Chris cleared his throat and began to rap, his voice filled with a newfound intensity. He delivered a series of scathing insults, each one more cutting than the last. He exposed Matt's insecurities, his hidden fears, and his secret desires. His words were sharp and precise, each syllable a dagger aimed at Matt's ego. As Chris reached the climax of his diss, he paused dramatically, his eyes narrowing before he rapped his last few bars.

“I'm the king, the ace, the might,

A force of nature, shining bright.

Your lady knows, it's plain to see,

I'm the one, exclusively.

And if you doubt, just ask her, please,

She'll confirm with utmost ease.

And if she doesn't then allow me,

Hear her beg for my dick.”

Chris glanced at Sam giving him a silent signal. Sam, understanding the cue, pressed play on Chris's phone. A recording of your passionate encounter with Chris filled the room, your moans and Chris's suggestive whispers echoing through the studio. Matt's face turned a deep shade of crimson as he recognized your voice. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed with anger and humiliation.

Your eyes widened in shock as the recording played, your face flushing with embarrassment. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, your voice echoing through the studio. Meanwhile, Chris smirked triumphantly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He winked at you and then turned to Matt, shrugging nonchalantly and flashing a smug expression. The contrast between his casual demeanor and the explosive content of the recording was palpable.

The recording shattered the fragile peace of the studio. The once playful banter between the brothers turned into a bitter rivalry. Matt, consumed by anger and jealousy, vowed to get revenge. Chris, however, remained unfazed, his confidence bolstered by his victory. As for you, you were left to navigate the complex aftermath, caught between the two brothers.

Taglist: @mattsbitchh @riasturns

You have no idea how long I spent trying to make those rhymes.

[andreas-river]

helloo!! i got a request ofc if you don’t mind<33

its reader x 141 + könig where we are complete sweethearts and we never raise our voice, everyone like thinks we are too innocent to even be there with them.

but one time someone completely pisses us off and we are already mad so we just snap and start threatening them and stuff. i would love to see their reactions:))))

if you don’t want to do this feel free to change this or ignore!

take care of yourself!<333

right and before i forget, do you take emoji anons? i kinda wanna be -💎

BYEEEEEE💕💕

141 + König X Reader Who Snaps At Them And How They Would React

Warnings: anger, mention of insult, female period (so fem!reader), light mention of sex.

Disclaimer: nothing at all, but remember: anger is never the best way to solve problems!

A/N: hi anon, sorry it took so long! And sure, you can be -💎, but if you even gonna request NSFW, please don't use the anon button!

════════════════════

 Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost has never been the kind of person to be affected by the behavior of others: he can handle his own emotions as well as those of others around him better than anyone else;

At first, he paid no attention when he saw you with the eyes of a hyena, looking at everyone around you with the intention of devouring them; but as soon as he heard you raise your voice to him, he froze in place;

He knew that he was not the cause of your anger, that you were having one of your worst days - someone had even insulted you and he had refrained from dealing with it personally - but now the situation was as if it had gotten out of hand;

He had never seen you in such a state: your hands clenched in an iron grip, a pen between your fingers even showing a crack in the material, your face completely red, your lower lip trembling slightly, and your eyes filled with tears: you were not the kind of person to get angry, and that emotion was not good for you at all;

And so, without saying anything, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, letting you take your anger out on him: he didn't care if you punched him in the chest or if your tears soaked his shirt.

He knew what that feeling was, and it's not easy to let it out without hurting objects or people: so he kept his arms around you as you let it out, creating a space for you that felt good as you released your anger.

¤

John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap always knew a thing or two about anger: he often had moments when he could not hold it in, so he often went to the base gym and took out all his frustration on the punching bag hanging from the ceiling;

But seeing you angry for the first time in his life made him regret all the decisions he had made in the last few days - how did it happen? Why were you so angry? You've never been angry since he first saw you;

Even when he made all his attempts to help you look futile, he decides to take a completely different approach: he moves your attention to him, tells you how to get it all out safely without consequences for you, and both end up in the gym while he shows you how to punch the bag, the same one he has been punching almost every day;

He's not bothered by your attitude, and he's going to help you through it.

¤

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"Oh Lord help me," will be his first thought when he sees you pacing around the room, fists clenched at your side, not paying much attention to your surroundings; he already knew about your terrible day, your terrible training, and even your period;

But no, he wasn't ready for you snapping at him, your finger pointing at his chest while he thought your eyes were capable of piercing his body. He immediately understood your anger and why you snapped at him like a rubber band, so fast he didn't even notice;

He took your hands and led you to the couch, encouraging you to talk and release the anger with him, even if it was difficult to explain what was going on inside your head; he listened to all your words, and even if at some point you were exhausted from all the rage boiling inside you, he continued to hold you, even if you fell asleep right in his arms, humming softly a melody for you.

¤

John Price

Being surrounded by angry people made him stressed beyond his own limits, but he learned to deal with it in any way he could;

The first solution was the cigar, the smoke always had a calming effect on his body, helping him to relax when he needed to;

You were so calm, so gentle, even your mere presence was something he craved in his own moments, but when he saw you throwing a punch at your desk, he jumped out of his skin at your flared nostrils, your white knuckles at the side of your head, and your body stiff as a violin string;

He walks behind you and puts his hands on your shoulders, but you shrug him off harshly, not even realizing how he's reacting;

He never, never expected you to snap at him, you've always been a sweetheart to him, and in that moment it looked like he flipped a coin and could only see one side;

He sees how your anger fills your movements, pacing back and forth without even looking at him, trying to pull you out of the feeling you were experiencing: it was obvious that you were "new" at this, plus it was a reason why you never got angry even in the worst situation;

He took control of the situation by putting you on his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, making you even more annoyed with his actions: but he continued, locking the door of his own office and putting you down on his chair;

Both out of breath, he just looks at you, his hand running down your body, watching you and how you try to wriggle away, but he just rests his hand on your tight, whatching you with a playful smile and eyes filled with a different light.

In the end, he knows how to make you forget even the reasons for your anger.

¤

König

He never coped well with his own anger, which led him to run away when someone was angry at him: probably a trauma response, or his anxiety kicking in. The only healthy way for him to deal with it was sparring;

And he freezes in place when you unintentionally snap at him, not even thinking about how he would react; he just stands there, listening to your unconnected words, witnessing your anger for the first time.

He doesn't speak or move, he doesn't even dare to react physically: he just watches you carefully, noting every movement, how you speak, how you try to hold something in your hands but almost break it;

That's when he realizes how to take the anger out of you: his sudden change of behavior makes you fall silent while he invites you to follow him. When he takes you to the mat for sparring, he gets into position and waits for you, and it doesn't take long for you to step in front of him;

Even if he doesn't put all his power into the fight, he notices that his plan is going right: he makes you let off steam by giving all your attention to him, to the fight, and to his movement;

Even if you don't get angry anymore, sparring has quickly become the best activity for both of you.

[descendant-of-truth]

Honestly? So much of Sonic Prime happens the way it does because Sonic is unabashedly, wholeheartedly neurodivergent, and I wanna talk about that in detail for several reasons

I think most people assume he has ADHD, and while I agree, I think they tend to leave it at "he's hyperactive and impulsive" when there's actually a lot more going on there.

For example, he lacks a filter. He says exactly what he's thinking, all the time, regardless of who's listening. I wouldn't be surprised if he does it as a type of vocal stim, considering that he talks to himself as much as he does to other people. Maybe he dislikes the way silence feels on his ears, too?

Something I noticed was that when Thorn gets on his case for this, asking if he ever stops talking, the way he says "eh, not really" sounds... almost resigned?

He could have easily said it in a more jokey way, but his tone (and the wide camera shot) gives me the impression that this isn't a trait of his that he feels especially positive about.

It's not cool or funny to him, at least not in this instance; it's just something he does, which further proves to me that it's more of an unconscious stim than anything else.

On the topic of the jungle world though, it also shows us a couple instances of him not being able to read others' intentions very well. Prim lies to him about knowing what the Prism shard is, and Thorn uses him to get to said shard - and despite how hostile they are, he takes both of them at their word.

He only realizes Thorn's intentions after she hits him across the clearing - not for the first time that day, mind you - and Sonic berates himself a little for not seeing this coming.

But it's not like this is the only time he has difficulty understanding intent; just look at his interactions with Shadow.

This is not the behavior of someone who understands why Shadow's picking a fight with him. He doesn't understand the implications of "you literally shook the world" because he doesn't know about the Weirder aspects of the explosion. In his mind, he just messed up a mountain.

Though I think his attitude implies another thing about his dynamic with Shadow that might explain why he was so quick to dismiss what he was talking about, which is. I don't think Sonic usually understands why they fight??

Shadow is a person of few words and Sonic has a hard time picking up on subtleties, that's a recipe for miscommunication already. And if Sonic's already predisposed to thinking that Shadow fights him Just Because, then of course he didn't take this particular instance seriously.

Though going back to "he only registered the physical effect of the explosion," Sonic is actually pretty consistent with understanding things that are tangible a lot better than anything else. Case in point: that One Palm Tree

His first reaction to seeing it presented as a gift is that it must be a trick. because he doesn't see the tangible point of the tree, and isn't enough of a symbolism guy to see the sentimental point of it, either.

Don't get me wrong, he is being insensitive here, but I don't think it's on purpose in any way. Look at his body language and expressions:

Even as he's getting on their case for being too sentimental, he's not unhappy or uncomfortable with them. He's just completely failing to recognize that this was supposed to be a big deal for them, so he's treating it way more casually than is appropriate.

Which is like. a classic social flub for neurodivergent folks

(Quick side note - this specific "huh" that he makes as Tails is flying away before Sonic realizes he's upset is a whole mood. I don't know how to explain it but this is Exactly what it feels like when you can sorta tell something's not clicking but you don't know what yet)

(Look at him. brain static)

I could go on with the detailed explanations but some of that would just be me repeating past posts I've made, so I'll leave it at "he is clearly not handling change well either" and link back to an example.

So anyway, this is what I meant when I said that so much of the show is impacted by Sonic being neurodivergent. It affects how we hear his thoughts as viewers, it affects his ability to understand and connect with his friends, it's why he dismisses Shadow, it's why he impulsively smashes the Paradox Prism, the list goes on.

And he's not stupid because of any of these traits, either. None of what I've described has to do with intelligence, but I've seen "Sonic is too dumb" as a reason to criticize the show, and that's just not what's happening here.

If anything, I'm actually really impressed with how well the writers have managed to portray a more nuanced take on what a character with ADHD would look like. Because he's not just being hyperactive and chatty, you can tell it affects how he perceives things too.

Which is a much bigger part of the overall experience, and it's really cool to see in a cartoon like this - and in the lovable main character, to boot! Who cherishes his friends despite his struggles to understand them! Why is it so good!

In conclusion Sonic is the ADHD king we both needed and deserved, thanks for coming to my TED talk