#any fandom dark bingo

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 4861

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

11. Palmiers

Bucky

Because he’s on the far end of the spectrum, Bucky’s sex drive is affected by his condition. He wakes up hard almost every morning of his life, and Steve doesn’t need much encouragement to get himself worked up into the same state very quickly. Mutual morning jerk offs were always bound to become part of their routine.

They take a shower and stand toe to toe, hands sliding and groping all over each others’ slick bodies, pulling on their cocks until both of them are shooting off against each other’s bellies. The water washes it away, and Steve gives him a deep, happy kiss. “Mmm. Mornin’.”

“Blegch. Go brush your teeth, you heathen.”

Steve laughs and gets out of the shower. Bucky stays in for a few minutes longer, adjusting the spray to its hardest setting and letting the hot water beat down on his back and shoulders. He sighs and stretches his neck this way and that, trying to get his vertebrae to pop, but his muscles are all too tight, and the stretching just seems to make it worse. Bucky drops his head in defeat. In all honesty, his shoulders and neck and back are all pretty fucked after months of near-constant use of his prosthetic.

Steve’s right: he doesn’t usually wear it this much. And he’s also right that Bucky’s been wearing it all day every day because he wants to feel powerful and able bodied in front of Mary. As per usual, Steve is the first one to have noticed what maladaptive behavior pattern he’s doing and why, and pointed it out to him. It really is for the best, Bucky knows. Because he can’t sustain wearing the arm all the time anymore. The thing is just too damn heavy.

The engineers who designed it have made tweaks and adjustments over the years. They’ve done all they can to lighten the load as much as possible, but the thing still weighs over twenty pounds. Twenty pounds doesn’t sound like much, but when it’s pulling on the same muscle groups day in and day out, everything in Bucky’s body winds up getting strained and unbalanced. He understands better now, how women fuck up their necks so badly from shouldering their purses (or their tits) around. A little bit of weight makes a big difference.

As a Dom, Bucky may have a tiny problem admitting when he needs help. He has to be in quite a bit of pain, trouble, or both, before he’ll ever speak up and allow himself to be vulnerable like that. It’s an inherent behavior that shrinks have been trying to therapize and medicate out of him since he was a kid, but nothing ever changed it much. Falling in love with Steve helped; Bucky can let himself be more vulnerable around him. But even still, it’s no small thing that he regularly approaches his husband to ask for help in getting his arm back on correctly (Bucky can do it, but it’s a pain in the ass, getting the mechanism lined up just right before it’ll take). 

He gets out of the shower and dries off, then approaches Steve with the prosthesis. “Gimme a hand?” 

Steve makes a cheerful noise of acknowledgement around his mouthful of toothpaste, spits and rinses, then takes the arm from Bucky. He lines it up just so, and then Bucky feels the deep shudder of the arm’s inner workings coming to life as they recognize their mate. The arm attaches and Steve lets go. 

“Thanks babe.”

“Uh huh.” 

It’s as Bucky’s bending over and pulling up his underwear and joggers that a spasm runs through his back and he cries out in a pained, “Ah!”

“Babe? What’s wrong?”

Gritting his teeth, Bucky slowly stands back up. He’s able to get his pants up, but when he tests the movement of his neck and shoulders, the pain flares again. It feels like everything between the base of his skull and his mid back is seizing up. “Fuck,” he hisses, frustrated. It’s his day off. He’d been planning to go to the gym for his long workout. 

Steve steps up and puts a worried hand on his left shoulder. “Babe? Do you need it off?” 

“No. I need some painkillers and a magnesium tablet,” he grunts, already turning around (full body, because turning his head is a bad idea right now). “Fuck.” He starts off for the kitchen. 

Steve follows along with worried protests, telling him to lay his “stubborn ass” down and he’ll get it for him. Bucky ignores him and goes to the kitchen cabinet where they keep their supplement stuff. He winds up yelling again when he tries to reach up and grab the ibuprofen. “Fuck!” he says angrily.

“Babe, I said to let me do it,” Steve scolds, his hand back on Bucky’s shoulder. “And let me take this off. It’s hurting you.”

“Steve, back off,” he snaps, angry and waspish from being in pain, and from being frustrated with his own goddamn body. 

“What’s going on?” 

Bucky turns his head without thinking, hisses in pain, and then turns himself full-body to face in Mary’s direction. She’s standing there looking at the two of them in concern, one hand holding one of those swirly, flaky, crack-cookies that she makes, and the other holding a cup of tea. Her eyes widen at the sight of Bucky’s arm and body, reminding him that this is the first time she’s seen him without a shirt on. “Nothin’,” Bucky grunts.

“Shit,” she says. “Are you guys fighting? Is this a couples’ fight? I’ll just …” She turns to leave back towards her room.

“We’re not fighting,” Steve says. “Buck’s just being an ass. He gets that way when he’s in pain.”

Bucky would turn his head to glare at him, but it isn’t worth another flair of agony in his shoulder. “I’m fine,” he says, when Mary comes back over. “It’s fine,” he stresses. He opens the pill bottle and dumps three capsules into his palm. “Jeez, will everybody stop babying me? I just need a glass of water.” 

“I’ll get it,” Steve says, causing Bucky to huff once again. “Don’t be a jerk, babe.”

“Why are you in pain?” Mary asks, her eyes tracing all over the left side of Bucky’s scarred up body. “Is it … does your arm hurt?” 

“No. It just fucks up my muscles, sometimes.”

“Your muscles?”

Bucky sighs impatiently. “Steve, do you know where the heating pad is?”

“I’ll have to look.” Steve has returned with a glass of water, and Bucky tosses back the handful of pills, wincing at how even the slight motion of raising his arm up makes his trap twinge in protest. “Ugh.” 

“You should get a massage,” Mary suggests, and Bucky fights not to lash out at her. She doesn’t know that one of his biggest pet peeves in life is having other people tell him what he “should” do.

“My PT maxed out back in October,” he tells her. “Doesn’t renew again till January.”

Steve takes the water glass from him once he’s done. “Go lie face down on the bed,” he murmurs. “I’ll find the heating pad.”

“Well I could do it,” Mary blurts out. Both Bucky and Steve pause and look at her. She looks surprised, too, as though she hadn’t been planning to say the words until they were out of her mouth, and now doesn’t know how to continue  “Um, that is ..." she gestures weakly with her cookie. “I just meant I know how to, if you wanted.” Eventually her cheeks color and she looks away. “Erm, Nevermind.”

“Wait,” Steve says. When Mary turns back, he’s looking at her earnestly, and Bucky thinks, Oh no. “You know how to give a back massage? Like a real one?”

“Yeah. My, ah, my ex always had neck problems, so.” She shrugs, looking embarrassed. “I took a class at the community college, learned the basics.”

Bucky blinks. That’s the subbiest fucking thing he’s ever heard. “You did this for the husband that beat you?” he drawls, immediately regretting it because it comes out sounding way more derogatory than he intends it to. “Sorry. I just … actually would pay good money for a massage right now. If you know how to do it.” 

Mary bites her lip, looking deliciously shy and sweet. Bucky’s mood sours as he realizes that she doesn’t really want to. He’s about to let her off the hook, but then some unconscious movement he makes without meaning to has him flinching in pain again. “Sheezus,” he complains. 

“It’s not usually this bad,” Steve worries.

“I must’a slept on it wrong.”

Mary nods, as if this settles it. “Okay. Well, go in the bedroom and tie your hair up so it's out of the way.” She turns to Steve, all but dismissing Bucky now that she’s got a task to complete. Bucky fights back an amused smirk as he heads towards the bedroom, and he hears Mary bossing Steve around, telling him she needs dry oil, the heating pad, towels, and all the seat cushions off the couch. 

The fuck does she need those for? Bucky thinks as he pads back into his and Steve’s room.

He finds out a moment later, when Mary and Steve come in with a couch cushion each, and Steve goes back out to get another. They lay them in a line on the bed, and Mary directs Bucky to lie on top of them, with his body placed just so and his face down just there, and … Oh. He gets it.

She’s left space between the cushion under Bucky’s chest, and the next cushion up, which supports his forehead. The gap creates a drop through for his face—like a massage table. And when she shapes the towel into a donut shape and sticks it there, it's pretty much perfect.

“Oh,” Bucky says, as he’s settling into place. “Oh, that’s actually really smart.” He can’t see Mary from his position, but somehow he senses her preening over the praise anyway. Steve returns from the bathroom with the heating pad and oil. “Found this stuffed in the back of the linen closet. I don’t know what ‘jojoba’ is, but, um … it’s either that or the virgin olive out in the pantry.”

“Do not use that,” Bucky grumbles. “Shit’s expensive, and I don’t wanna smell like garlic truffle for the next three days.”

“That’ll work fine.” Mary is totally task focused, ignoring Bucky’s surliness and telling Steve to apply the heating pad across Bucky’s shoulders and neck for thirty minutes before they get started.

“Thirty minutes?!” Bucky complains, unable to see anything but the top of the bedcovers as the two of them go out into the hallway. 

“Just relax, Babe,” Steve says (and if Bucky isn’t mistaken, he sounds amused). “Take a nap.”

“I just woke up!” He scoffs at the bedspread when the door quietly ‘snicks’ shut and he realizes that he’s been abandoned. “Well okay then,” he mutters petulantly. Steve is right: he does turn into an ass when he’s in pain. Hmm. Maybe he should work on that.

Steve

Steve turns the tv onto a low volume so they can talk without Bucky hearing. “Sorry about him,” he says. “He’s a humongous jerk whenever he’s feeling crummy.”

“You mean it’s not just all the time?” Mary drawls.

“He’s … just one of those people you have to learn to love before you like them.” Mary raises an eyebrow, and Steve winces. “Er, that sounded harsh. Don’t tell him I said that.”

She twists her lips and looks down. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Thanks, Hon. You want more tea?” 

“Yes please. There’s more of the palmiers in a baggie next to the coffee pot, if you want any.” 

“Heck yeah, I love those things.” Steve had thought the prepackaged ones at Starbucks were good, hadn’t even realized that they weren’t supposed to be all stale and hard like that. Just another commercialized pastry that Mary’s gone and ruined him for. He goes into the kitchen and makes himself coffee and Mary tea, knowing by now how she takes it.

She thanks him silently as he returns and joins her on the couch, both of them sitting close to one another on the chaise, since it’s the only part of the couch that still has its cushion.

"Palmier is French. Know what else they call these?" Mary asks.

Steve's lips quirk. Mary's always got these little facts she knows about the origins of this pastry or that. It's cute. Endearing. "No," he plays along. "What?"

"Elephant ears, because of the shape, see?"

"Oh yeah. Huh. That's neat."

She goes back to eating and sipping at her teacup, and after a moment of unrequited, affectionate staring, Steve looks away. "Elephant ears," he murmurs, trying not to be mopey. "That's funny."

They split the palmiers between them, and aside from the sounds of them munching cookies and sipping their drinks, it’s quiet for a long time. Steve made both the tea and the coffee very hot, so they at least have the excuse of cradling and blowing on their steaming mugs to keep the silence from being too awkward. Mary keeps her eyes trained forward, but Steve gets the sense that she isn’t really paying attention to the home renovation program that’s playing on the tv. His suspicions are confirmed when she eventually asks,

“So: His arm.”

Steve inhales slowly. “Yeah. His arm.”

“What happened?”

Steve frowns. He can tell by her inflection that she’s asking not just about the arm, but about the state of Bucky’s entire left side from shoulder to hip. “We were in the army,” he confides. “Deployed overseas. I made captain young, but he was a specialist in the field: a sniper. So I wasn’t put into the same types of situations as he was. His convoy got blown up by an IED. And when the dust settled …” He shrugs. “No more arm.”

“Oh.” Mary sits there and absorbs that information. “I guess I kind of figured it was something like that. I mean what else is there, besides like, a shark attack or something?”

Steve’s mouth twitches. Shark attack, ha. He’ll have to suggest that one to Buck. Might be fun to lie about, the next time a stranger asks. “Naw, just a boring old bomb. And afterwards, well. It was a long road for him, after. He didn’t have the arm when I met him.”

Mary turns her head, surprised. “Oh. You two didn’t meet in the army?”

“No, after. I met him at the V.A., when he was already angry, hurt, and didn’t want to be where he was.” Steve looks over and gives her a meaningful look. “Kind of like when I first met you.” 

Her eyes widen, and then her face colors and she looks away again, pulling her knees up and hunkering over her mug. “Was I really that bad?” she mumbles.

“... You were pretty bad, Honey.”

She frowns and doesn’t say anything, and Steve decides to leave it alone. “So yeah, his arm. He got into a program for experimental cybernetics. It was a big gamble. Back then, he still had his arm down to nearly the elbow, which meant he could use a lot of the different types of prostheses they had on the market. The less arm you have, the less they can do for you. The surgeries for the implant required removal all the way up to and including his left shoulder blade. So if he went through with it and the procedures didn’t work out, he’d be left with less function than he started with.”

“Jeez.”

“Hm, yeah. It was a risk.” Steve stares across the living room as he remembers all of the hospital stays and surgeries and revisions and therapy appointments. “Luckily it worked out. They replaced some bones with metal supports, some of his natural muscle with enhanced synthetic tissue. His body didn’t reject any of the junk they were putting in him, which was the biggest worry. All in all, it took five surgeries over the course of three years, and then a shit ton of physiotherapy. Buck says it was worth it, now, but it wasn’t a walk in the park when it was happening, I’ll tell you that.”

Beside him, Mary makes a sad little noise in her throat. “But … all that and it still gives him pain?”

“Yeah. He gets PT for it, but like he said; it never winds up lasting the full year. I force him to my veterans' support group when I can, but he’s gotta be in a really charitable mood for that.” Steve snorts humorlessly. “He’s always hated being disabled. It doesn’t jive with his DPD. You know that stereotype about men: never wanting to stop and ask for directions?” 

“Yeah.”

"Well it's true. And then you take a guy who’s as far on the spectrum as Bucky is, and it’s ten times worse.” He widens his eyes in emphasis and gets a little giggle out of Mary for it, which makes him warm with pride. He pulls his feet up onto the couch next to Mary’s and nudges her knee with his. “Just fair warning: He’s the worst patient I’ve ever seen. So don’t take it personally if he’s grumpy at you in there.”

Mary frowns and looks away. “Well, I mean I don’t have to do this. If he doesn’t want to.”

“Pretty sure he wants to. And he needs help with it, whether his stubborn ass wants to admit it or not.”

She nods, though she still doesn’t look confident. “It’s been over a year since I worked on anybody …”

“Well then this’ll be good practice for you, won’t it?” Steve nudges her again in encouragement and tells her to finish up her tea: He doesn’t expect Bucky’ll lie around patiently for much longer.

(“Oh, and Hon, maybe don’t tell him we were out here talking about him this whole time.”)

(“Duh.”)

In the bedroom, Mary climbs onto the bed next to where Bucky is laid out on the couch cushions. She takes the heating pad off his neck and puts it aside, looking nervously over the broad expanse of his back. “Um …” She reaches for the oil bottle and pumps some into her hands. She spends a long, long time just spreading it between her hands and staring at Bucky, until finally he snaps,

“What’s the holdup?” 

“Babe, be nice,” Steve warns. “Mary? You need anything?”

“Um, no. It’s just … usually I'd ..." She makes an aborted move, like she's thinking about repositioning herself, but winds up staying where she is. "Right," she mutters to herself. "This'll work fine." She reaches forward like she’ll start rubbing Bucky’s back, hesitates, shuffles closer to his side, then sets her hands on his shoulders.

Bucky doesn’t so much as twitch, but he’s not used to new people touching him, and Steve would bet money that his eyes are clenched shut right now.

“Okay,” Mary warns. “I haven’t done this in awhile, so don’t get your hopes up for a miracle or anything.”

“Anything’ll be better than what I can do myself,” Bucky says gruffly, voice somewhat muffled by the cushions. “Just go to town. You can’t hurt me any worse.”

Steve can see Mary’s face, and he knows by now what she looks like when she’s flustered. Awkwardly, he steps to the side, heading for the door. “I’ll just go watch some—”

“No!” Mary squeaks, and when Steve turns back around she’s looking at him with wide eyes. “Don’t leave,” she says, like being left alone touching Bucky is the worst possible thing that could happen. Steve doesn’t miss how the muscles in Bucky’s arms do tense at hearing her plead for Steve to stay. 

“Uhm, okay. I’ll just … be over here.” He leans back against the dresser, feeling almost painfully awkward. Once again, he’s reminded how Mary has shown absolutely no desire to engage in sexual contact with them. He hopes she doesn’t think this is a ploy to force physical contact. She was the one who suggested it, after all.

She starts at the base of Bucky’s skull, rubbing her thumbs in small circles. “As I go along, try to tell me which areas feel the worst,” she murmurs, and Bucky hums in acknowledgement. Steve watches as she pushes and circles and kneads Bucky’s neck, working down on into his shoulders. He’s struck by how feminine and tiny her hands look against Bucky’s body … and then has to steer his mind away from the thought of how tiny they might look in other places.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky gasps, when she reaches a certain spot on the left side of his neck.

She freezes. “Bad?” 

“Nngh. Good,” he slurs. “That whole area from there goin’ down into my back ‘n all around my shoulder blade is where it’s worst.”

“Okay.” She tentatively presses around in and around the left side of his neck and shoulder. “Oh, yeah. It starts right here and goes down.” She slides her hand down the muscle and hums. “Oh, I can feel it.”

(Steve tries really hard not to think sexual thoughts.)

“Riiight here? and … here?"

Between the cushions, Bucky’s voice comes out in a series of garbled moans.

“That’d be a yes,” Steve interprets, and Mary actually shoots him a grin at that. Glad to have cut the tension a bit, he dares to take a few steps closer to the bed. He peers down at what Mary’s doing, the way her fingers dig in at sharp, focused points in some places and rub more gently in others. “It’s your trap that’s the worst,” she mutters distractedly, feeling around with her hands and staring off into space with the tip of her tongue poking out at the corner of her mouth. It’s cute. “Mmm, but probably your levator scapulae, too. Those tend to get fucked up hand in hand.”

“Mmrr.”

“And here: your rhomboid.”

“Ooh!”

“Tender?” 

“Shuyeahhh,” Bucky grunts, then his breath hitches when she digs into another spot. “Oh, yep yep right there. Was’that?”

Steve can’t help but grin. Bucky sounds like he’s drooling at this point.

“Your trapezius muscle. It's big. Does a lot of work, covers a large area. Probably the main offender.” Mary hums and feels around a little more. “Oof, yeah. You’ve got a whole bunch of tension right here.”

“You can feel it?” Steve asks, fascinated. He can't see anything.

“Yeah. Here, gimme your hand.” Steve is taken aback when she grabs his hand and guides his fingers into place, her own smaller hand pressing down. “Riiight there. You feel it?”

Steve swallows thickly. “Ah, yeah.” His eyes flick from her hand on his hand on Bucky’s back, up to her face, and back again before she can catch him looking. “Y-yeah it’s hard.” He grimaces at his choice of words (If he's not careful, "it" soon will be).

“I’m gonna focus on this one for a few minutes,” Mary tells Bucky. Then you can guide me around to the other bad spots.”

“Sounds good,” he slurs. Steve is about to take a step back again, but then Bucky calls out, “Hey Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Pay attention to what she’s doin’. It feels really fuckin’ good.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mmhm. You can learn n' do it next time,” he says dreamily. On his back, Mary’s hands still for the briefest of seconds. “S’goood.”

Steve nods and comes back to sit on the bed. “Okay,” he agrees, scooting in close and glancing at Mary. Her face looks pinched all of a sudden, her expression stiffened as if in annoyance. “I promise I’m not as dumb as I look,” he jokes, and watches as her face smooths out and she smiles a little.

“Oh! Oh no it’s … it’s okay, I don’t mind. I’ll teach you how.”

“Don’t mind me, m’just a teaching tool,” Bucky drawls, and Steve laughs and pats his shoulder. 

“Yeah you are. So shut up and let her teach.”

Bucky grunts and shuts up. Steve looks to Mary for instruction. He can tell she’s uncomfortable, but she manages to hide it well and keep herself on track. The more he pays attention, the sooner she can get herself out of this and never have to do it again. “Ready to learn,” he tells her.

“Now when you’re doing this, you can get more leverage if you straddle his waist.” She says this like it’s a foregone assumption that she would never dare to sit on Bucky’s waist, and Steve is sure she doesn’t notice the grumpy huff of breath Bucky gives.

“Right,” Steve says, pained. “Okay, so where are the bad spots again?”

“Put your hand here.” She takes his hand again and places it just to the left of Bucky’s spine at the level of his shoulder blade. “Slide your fingers out. There. Feel that difference? Feel how it changes when you move out to just … there?” She guides his fingers, and Steve nods. 

“Y-yeah.” Mostly, he’s just thinking about how nice Mary’s warm, oiled, tiny hand feels guiding his hand around. “Yeah.”

“The trap’s on top, but there are other muscles underneath of this one, and that differentiation you feel is where the rhomboid is ending and the—”

She keeps talking, and Steve tries to pay attention and learn, he really does. But his mind is a veritable sieve, for how well he retains the information. It’s all in one ear and out the other, ninety percent of his attention stuck on Mary’s hands on him, guiding him, pressing on his fingers and gliding his touch over Bucky’s skin. Fuck, how did they wind up here? 

Eventually, having taught Steve the basics, Mary lets him go and works on Bucky’s shoulders for a little while more. For the most part it’s quiet, with Bucky making soft grunts of pain whenever she finds a new cluster of knotted muscle, and sighs of relief once she works them out. 

Her hands linger on Bucky’s mid back when she’s done. She doesn’t seem to know what to do. “Erm. Okay. I think … I think that’s it.”

When neither Bucky nor Steve says anything, she retreats on her own, getting off the bed and looking between Bucky’s prone form and Steve’s sorrowful expression. “So, kay. You can get up, if you want. Just move slowly.”

Bucky’s right hand gives her the thumbs up symbol, but the entire rest of his body doesn’t move. “Thanks Mare. Just give us a second. That was really good. Thank you. Thanks for teaching Steve.”

It’s the “Thanks for teaching Steve” that seems to do it. Mary’s expression firms up and she nods curtly, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. Steve stays sitting on the bed next to Bucky in silence for a long minute, then says knowingly, “Got a boner?”

“Yep.”

*To anyone who's only ever had store bought, pre-packaged palmiers: I'm so sorry. Along with Madeleines, those should never be eaten more than a few hours max after they've been baked.

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Chapter Twelve - "If You Want to Know How Much I Love You, Count All the Waves in the Sea."

It's the final chapter ;-;

Everyone's favourite Pretty Ship Boys celebrate their freedom. CW: Smut, in varying degrees of BDSM-ish-ness.

Prompts used (contains spoilers); - ‘Fucking Like Rabbits’, ‘Marathon Sex’, ‘Caught Fucking’ - @anyfandomgoesbingo (Kink); - ‘Heavy Bondage’, ‘Forced Orgasm’ – Any Fandom Goes Bingo (Dark); - ‘Kink: Tentacles’ – @buckybarnesbingo (B005); - ‘Fingered to Orgasm in a Public Space’ – @fandombingo ; - ‘Shibari’, ‘Breeding Kink’, ‘Caught Masturbating’ - @fandom-free-bingo (Flight Edition); - ‘Sleepy Sex’ – Fandom-Free Bingo (Frosty Edition);

- ‘5 Times They Have Sex Together & 1 Time They Get Caught’ – @julybreakbingo (4x4); - ‘Blindfolded or Gagged’, ‘Bruises or Hickeys’, ‘Kink: Lazy Sex’ – July Break Bingo (7x7); - ‘Bondage Art’, ‘Dom Drop’ – Kinky Things Happen Bingo (discontinued); - ‘Culture: Public Displays of Affection’ – @multifandom-flash Bingo (Taboo – 6045); - ‘Orgasmically Delicious’ – Multifandom Flash Mini Bingo( Thanksgiving ��� 7023); - ‘Somnophilia’ – Multifandom Flash – New Year – NSFW; - ‘Tentacled Terror’ – Multifandom Flash Bingo – World Oceans Day – Aquatic Animal; - ‘Walk the Plank’ – Multifandom Flash Bingo – World Oceans Day – Extra +1; - ‘Underwater Kiss’ – Multifandom Flash Bingo – World Oceans Day – Mer; - ‘Kink: Fingering After Sex’ – Pre-July Break Flash Bingo; - ‘Skinny Dip’ – @sweetspicybingo (Sweetheart); Check it out below, or on AO3 here! All below the cut because all the smut. Boards at the end!

One.

The morning after my Lieutenant made sweet, beautiful love to me, I stirred and stretched out muscles stiffened by deep sleep. The motion of my hips at the movement brought a sudden awareness of the cock still inside me, twitching and filling as the man behind me stirred.

He let out a soft sigh, arm curling tighter around my waist as he shifted automatically. “Mm, morning…” he breathed, burying his face in my throat. With a contented purr, I tipped my head to ease his access, pressing back against him.

“Hey, Sailor,” I hummed, one hand reaching back to knot in his hair. The mouth on my neck moved harder, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin, and I let out a quiet groan as his hips shifted once me, his length beginning to stretch me out as he grew harder. “Fuck, that feels good…”

He grunted happily, his hand snaking between my legs to caress my clit, light and lazy. “Just enjoy, my sweet, sleepy boy… I’ve got you.”

I nodded and sighed contentedly, relishing in his gentle movements, the way he rocked against me causing stars to spark behind my eyes. “God, yes… You make me feel so good, Gregor…” I murmured, holding on a little tighter, legs inching apart. The way he unmade me, with such care and attention, brought tears to my eyes, my fingers curling in the sheets as I came undone. It seemed almost effortless, the manner with which he made me dissolve, his hips moving slowly but firmly against me.

I was already trembling once more by the time his pace began to increase, and a quiet groan escaped me as he whined and tried to move me back nearer. His eyes widened in surprise as I straddled his hips, whimpering in pleasure as he re-entered me.

“You’re so hot,” he breathed, hands finding my hips as I rutted eagerly, his head falling back. “Fuck – you take it so goddamn well, baby boy, already riding that cock like a pro…”

I moaned breathlessly, the angle offering a new, deeper reach that had my eyes rolling back in pleasure. “Oh, God, that’s- fuck, th-that’s-”

His grip shifted to my ribs, pulling me down against his chest to kiss me deeply. “That good, sweetheart?” he breathed, hips pressing up to meet mine. “Enjoying that thick cock buried so fucking deep in your tight pussy, beautiful?”

I mewled uselessly, burying my face in his throat, nipping and licking with a desperate need to bring him as much pleasure as he brought to me. “Please – God, yes, so good, so deep, I can’t- I’m going to come, Captain, please, pl-” My words died amongst a rapturous moan as he snapped his hips up roughly. He’d only been gentle with me until now, sweetly making love to me with cautious movement.

But now his fingers dug into the soft skin of my back, fucking up into me with fierce, wordless need, grunts of pleasure falling readily. As my muscles tensed and I met his thrusts with my own spasmodic movements, crying out frantically as he sent me hurtling into the abyss.

He growled aloud with the effort of restraining himself until my quivering began to subside, only then allowing himself to bury himself inside me with a deafening groan, frantic hands grasping at me.

It wasn’t until his cock had finished twitching inside me that he finally fell still, panting and clutching me desperately against his chest. “You’ll be the death of me, sweet boy,” he whispered breathlessly, pressing a trembling kiss to my sweat-damp temple. “But it’s a death I’ll go to gladly, and with a smile on my face.”

Two.

It took two weeks of tender, mind-blowing lovemaking, each adoring rock of his hips matched by the mellow motions of the ship on a calm sea, for Greg’s bullet wound to heal enough for him to exercise a little more.

Watching my lover haul on ropes with a broad grin plastered across his face,  sun-kissed skin taut over straining muscles, had my chest aching with love. He was truly in his element once more – and I’d never found him more beautiful. I had every intention of showing him exactly how much I wanted him once our day was over; the return to duty took its toll, however, and he was asleep the moment his head touched the pillow, lips curled up at the edges and parted in soft, breathy snores. I could only grin to myself, fingertips delicately caressing the bare skin over his spine as he tucked himself further into my side, cheek pressed to my bare chest, purring with unconscious contentment.

The feeling of him nuzzled up against me, happy and resting easily, was enough to drag me into a heavy sleep of my own. When I woke to the gentle rocking of the ship, he was still unconsciously burrowed into my side, getting some well-deserved rest. I smoothed his hair adoringly, smiling when he let out a gentle, contented sigh and pressed closer.

The movement made me starkly aware the length digging into my hip ad leaking against the thin cotton covering, dampening my own boxers. I paused only briefly as my eyes flicked to his face, checking for any sign of impending consciousness and smiling when I found none. Moving with slow, cautious gestures, I inched away from him and down the bed, the absence of my body against his leading him to roll onto his back. The outline of his hard cock stood at attention had my mouth watering and the space between my thighs throbbing with desire as I knelt between his legs, carefully peeling down his boxers to reveal his thick, engorged length to my ravenous gaze.

My eyes shifted to his peaceful expression once more before I shimmied closer, delicately running the tip of my tongue along the underside of his cock as it twitched under my attention. A soft, low whine sounded overhead as I took his length between my lips, sucking lightly and purring at the taste of him on my tongue.

It wasn’t until a third of his cock was in my mouth and my head was bobbing, smooth and slow, that he began to stir, letting out first a sleepy, aroused moan, then a second, shocked and eager, as his hand found my hair and he thrusted weakly.

“Holy f- God- Guh-Good morning to you too, Snowflake,” my Captain stammered, one eye opening to gaze down at me as my tongue swirled around his cock, cheeks hollowing from the effort as I sucked on his length a little harder. “Fuck, a hell of a way to start the day, sweet boy… My God, I love that mouth, you feel so fucking good…”

With a soft hum of happiness, I buried him a little deeper, letting his tip brush the back of my throat and eliciting a sharp groan from my lover.

When I drew back infinitesimally, he whined through his teeth, attempting to pull me closer until my fingers closed around his wrist, holding him off until I could release his cock and fix him with a level stare. “I’ll be back to it in a moment, my love,” I murmured, trailing soft, gentle kisses along his length. He let out a quiet whimper of protest, but dutifully ceased his tugging on my hair, letting his hand fall to the bed with a frustrated thump. Watching me carefully as I moved, his gaze finally lit up with understanding as I settled a knee either side of his head.

Immediately, his tongue strained to meet me, skimming over my slick folds as his arms wrapped around my thighs, attempting to drag me closer and groaning in frustration when I held steady. “Please- fuck, fuck, please, baby- please, my baby boy, I need you, I need-”

His words died with a rapturous moan as I settled atop him, his tongue desperately lapping and licking and probing with a feral desperation. I trembled at his eagerness, relishing the enthusiasm of his mouth against me, nails clenching against my legs in his frantic desire. My own pleasure made me just as needy, and I leant forward to take him in my mouth once more, whining at the feeling of his tongue sliding inside me, reaching desperately for the core of me, searching for some hidden part of me that only he knew.

When he skimmed his tongue over the bundle of sensitive nerves I cried out, ducking my head quickly and taking every inch of his cock deeply in my throat, working him with every movement and bit of pleasure he gave me. My own hands found his legs, one tracing a line over a delectable curve of muscle to roll his balls gently, eliciting a grunt of pleasure and a renewed vigour between my own thighs.

On and on the cycle went, each of us pushing the other higher, working one another with increasing desperation as we grew closer to our inevitable conclusion. I could feel every muscle in his body trembling desperately as he fought to restrain himself, refusing to let go until I could join him in that blissful hurtle headlong into abyssal pleasure.

It was the taste of the short bursts he couldn’t contain that sent me over the edge, the taste of him in his desperation proving too much for me to handle. His grip was hand on my waist as he held me to him tightly, tongue lapping as he groaned and jerked. I could feel his fingertips digging into my flesh, hard and bruising, keeping me close while I writhed and spasmed, swallowing hungrily around his pulsating cock.

Three

Greg left me spent and weak, laughing shakily with the force of my orgasm, a gentle kiss pressed to my forehead and murmuring for me to get a little more rest. I could only hum my agreement, eyes closing of their own volition, every inch of me depleted. The door closed with a quiet click, and I was alone, lulled by waves and the distant timbre of the Lieutenant’s voice as he spoke with those early to rise on deck.

But in my half-conscious state, as life crept back into my tender muscles, true sleep eluded me. Instead, wreathed in sheets still sweat-damp and warm, I could only become increasingly aware of the scent of him. His unique aroma of salt and weather-worn rope and home settled low in my abdomen, the ache between my thighs returning insistently. The memory of his tongue on me and his cock buried in my throat came unbidden, and I swallowed, one eye opening thoughtfully.

The space between my legs was still slick and sensitive, earning a soft moan as my knees fell apart and fingertips trailed slowly over my slit. The knowledge that his mouth had not long eagerly followed the same path had me growing wetter, and I couldn’t restrain as whimper of pleasure as I slipped two fingers inside myself.

“Fuck – yes, Lieutenant, just like that,” I breathed, head falling back, hand moving slowly and replaced, in my mind, with his.

Lost in my fantasy, whimpering quietly, I was not present enough in reality to hear that soft click once more, the door to the Captain’s quarters offering the perfect view of my exposed thighs beneath a rucked sheet as I squirmed and mewled pitifully.

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that my gaze shot up, and I felt myself burn crimson, legs snapping shut in shame as I bolted upright. “Shit- I’m sorry, I- I was just-”

“Shut up,” he murmured, shedding his shirt as he stroke closer, the sheet dragged hungrily from my body. I barely had time to register my embarrassment before he was on his knees before me, pulling my legs apart with a growl. “Insatiable, aren’t you?” he purred, trailing a fingertip over y slick folds, a hint of a rumble in his voice sending a shiver down my spine. “Freshly come-drunk and already desperate for more…”

“Couldn’t help myself,” I gasped, fingers curling in the sheets as he slid two digits inside me, pumping slowly. “You – mm – you tasted so good, made me feel so good…”

He pressed gentle kisses along the inside of my thigh, skirting along the side of my slit and making me whimper. “And you thought you’d take matters into your own hands, hm? Without your Captain’s permission?” He tutted, fingers curling inside me and eliciting a sharp gasp. “You’d deny me the opportunity, Sergeant?”

“N-no, Sir,” I stammered quickly, vehemently shaking my head. “You- you were busy… I didn’t want to interrupt…”

His hand drew back to administer a stinging slap to my wetness, and I yelped in surprise, blushing at the pleasure that coursed through my veins and nodding hurriedly when his gaze flicked to mine, seeking clarification. With a smile, his digits slipped inside me once more, pulling a stuttered groan from parted lips. “Never too busy for you, sweet boy,” he murmured, tongue flicking teasingly against my clit, my hips jerking needily. “Certainly never too busy to take care of this sweet, soaked pussy…”

I mewled helplessly as his fingers moved more firmly inside me, knees falling further apart, my wanton desperation earning an approving smirk. “Please- please, Sir… Take care of me, please…”

His eyebrow arched, stern and playful, and he lifted his head from between my legs while I whimpered. “Oh – you think it’s going to be that easy, do you?” He clucked his tongue sympathetically as he removed his fingers, leaving me aching and empty. “No, my pet… You stroked this pretty pussy without my permission, and I’m going to make sure you learn.” A hand found my abdomen, pinning my squirming hips to the sheets, eyes meeting mine once more and glowing with pleasure when I nodded infinitesimally.

Even as my eyes were covered, leaving me blind and exposed, I felt anything but vulnerable. I trusted the man trailing his fingertips down my chest with my life. Rope passed around my wrists and pulled my arms overhead, and my back arched without fear, offering myself willingly and eagerly for a punishment I was certain I would enjoy. I held no doubt that I was safe from harm here, even as firm hands pressed my legs apart once more.

“You seem to be under the misguided impression that this is your pussy, Sergeant,” he purred, punctuating his words with another sharp slap to my wetness, earning a whimper of surprise and pleasure.

“But that’s not true, is it?”

Another strike, and my cheeks coloured at the sound of his palm against my soaked slit.

“This pussy belongs to me, pet. Mine. Do you hear me?”

My thighs inched further apart at the next impact, and I arched into his touch, nodding desperately.

“I said, do you hear me?”

Another slap, harder this time, and I yelped, eyes rolling back in pleasure behind my blindfold. “I hear you! Yours- I-I… I belong to you…”

Slap.

“Louder.”

“I’m yours,” I groaned, pressing closer needily.

Slap!

“Louder!”

“My pussy belongs to you, Sir!” I cried, straining against coarse ropes, frantic to touch myself – or to convince him to – as my wetness flowed readily. “Yours- all yours, to fuck and touch and- please, Lieutenant, please!”

Without warning, the blows stopped; the bed beneath me shifted as he moved away, and I let out a soft, tortured sob, hips rutting, desperately seeking any form of friction I could find.

More movement, and I stilled, the tip of cock his trailing lightly over me. My breath stuttered in my chest, and I hardly dared move, every nerve in my body focused intently on the leaking, rubbing head of his length rutting against me teasingly. “This is what you need, isn’t it?” he breathed, a hand wrapping tight around my hip as I nodded weakly. “Stroking this pretty cunt and fantasising about getting fucked like a whore….”

With a whimper, I nodded again, straining against his grip as my desperation increased, veins thrumming with the need to have him inside me. “Please, Captain…”

I cried out in surprise and delight as he pressed into me without warning, the thickness stretching me open quickly and sparking stars behind my eyes with the pleasure of it.

“There you go, pet… That’s  what you wanted, hm? Someone to split you in half and treat you like the needy slut you are?” His mouth found my throat as he fucked me roughly, leaving searing marks in his wake, while I could only sob and cling to him, helpless against the waves of pleasure thrumming through me with each thrust.

“N-not someone,” I stammered weakly, back arching to press myself blindly closer. “Just you – only you, Sir, please…”

I felt his gentle chuckle against my skin, and a warmth spread through me at his quiet delight, his hands holding me a little tighter. “That’s right; you’re mine, aren’t you? All mine.” I nodded desperately, a broken whimper of relief slipping between my lips as his fingers found my throbbing clit at last. “That’s it, Sergeant. You take it so well – such a pretty toy for me to play with.” His thrusts grew rougher and less rhythmic, and his free hand curled in my hair, clutching me tighter to his skin scented of sweat and sea and something intrinsic to my sailor. My legs wrapped around his hips to take him deeper, every stroke increasing my wetness – and the accompanying sordid sounds, which only served to drive me higher.

The lieutenant noticed the pressure before I did. He grunted and increased his pace, and it was then that I whimpered my need, warning him of an intense, impending something. His mouth found mine as he drew back, and I wailed in surprise and pleasure as my body gushed readily, soaking sailor and sheets in equal measure. No sooner had flood faded to a trickle than he was inside once more, grunting his delight at my neediness and pounding me into the mattress with brutal, sloppy strokes.

My nails tightened against my own palms, my sobs breathless and frantic. “Please- please, fuck, I need you! I need you to fill me up, Sir, please – need you to stuff me up – I’m yours, Sir, please!”

With a groan of surrender, he buried himself to the hilt inside me, the feeling of his cock pulsing as he released hot ropes deep within me drawing me over my own precipice with an inhuman howl.

I expected him to untie me the moment he pulled back, moving to his knees between my thighs with a soft sound of effort.

But instead, his fingers travelled over my slick, leaking pussy, making me whimper and jerk sensitively. He shushed me softly as two digits slid into my bruised hole, pushing his steadily dripping seed back inside me with a low rumble of pleasure. “That’s it, my sweet boy… Don’t want any of your Captain’s precious cum going to waste, do you?” He purred as I shook my head hard, a thumb gently smoothing over the flat skin of my abdomen. “One day I’m going to fuck a baby into you, Sergeant. I’ll fuck you until you’re all full up and fat for me… Would you like that, sweet boy?”

I whimpered weakly, nodding and squirming pointedly, wrapping my legs around his waist when he crawled atop me and crushing my lips to his once more.

Four

I was barely able to walk by the time night settled over the ship once more, but my Captain still was not done with me.

My body was littered with bites and scratches and blooming bruise, and the ropes had gone from being simply passed around my wrists to tied around my body in intricate patterns. I was bound and helpless, my thighs secured to my chest, leaking hole on display and offered to his mercy.

And what mercy it had been.

He’d taken me every which way until I was sobbing at the oversensitivity, weak and trembling and no longer able to support my own weight. At that point, he’d simply tied me up and tossed me to the sheets before continuing his exquisite torture – frequently checking in to affirm my consent, of course.

It seemed to me he was determined to make up for the time we’d spent together before this was a part of our relationship, and for the period of his recovery when the roughness he now treated me with wasn’t possible; a notion to which I was only too eager to comply. But even the impressive creature that was my Captain had limits, and after several orgasms and little sustenance, he’d all but emptied the tank.

I’d assumed, at that point, that the marathon was over, and my ‘punishment’, delicious as it had been, had reached its conclusion. But he had simply smiled at me, secured my thighs to my chest in a delicate entrapment of rope, and slid two fingers inside me, my whines falling on deaf ears. He’d made sure I was clear on how to stop this – words and gestures that would bring an immediate halt to proceedings for any reason – so he simply brushed a tear from my cheek with his free hand, working me with a practiced skill that set my bones alight while he crooned. “Just one more, sweet boy… You can give me one more, can’t you? I know you want to…”

I nodded my agreement to the latter, wriggling weakly against my binds.

I’d sell my soul to the devil if you asked it of me.

“I-I don’t know if I can,” I mewled pitifully, voice broken from cries and moans. “Please, Sir – I’m so sensitive, I-I don’t know if-” I cut myself off with a cracked groan as his digits curled inside me, my tenderised walls quivering in a painful pleasure.

“Oh, you can,” he purred, hand moving a little faster, “and you will.” His thumb brushed over my clit, and I jerked, fresh tears leaking free as my eyes squeezed shut.

“Please – I can’t, Captain, I can’t, I-”

His fingers curved again and he worked me deeper, removing all semblance of coherent thought from my mind with the motion as I wailed. I’d long ago lost any concern of being overheard – there simply was not space left in me to care, or to consider the matter at all, let alone moderate the sounds I made.

He knew my body better than I did, and when his digits began to speed up in response to some unknown stimuli, I whimpered, giving the ropes that held me fast an obligatory but pointless tug. “Please, Captain… I’m- I…”

He leant down and brushed his lips over mine, surprisingly sweet and chaste, before pressing his forehead to my own tenderly. “Come for me, Snowflake,” he breathed, his gaze locked intensely on mine.

I couldn’t look away as I unravelled for him, every muscle in my body straining and striving at the ropes to do something against the beautiful torture – whether to seek more or make it end was unclear – and cries fell unbidden from my bitten and kiss-flush lips. His hand never stilled nor slowed until my spine lost its bow-taut curve and my tears ran freely, every inch of my body loose and powerless sae the rhythmic clenching of my overworked pussy around his fingers. His movements were slow, exhausted, as he drew back, earning a weak whine, and untied me, easing my aching limbs into more natural positions.

It wasn’t until he held me in his arms, my head upon his chest, that I noticed his trembling, and tipped my face up to look at him, pulling the sheets closer about us. “Are you okay?” I murmured, brow furrowing with concern. He nodded slowly, pulling me tighter against him.

“A bit of a… Dip, of sorts. It takes a toll sometimes, being a dominant… There are occasions when the feelings fade and it’s a little… Uncomfortable.”

He offered me a weak smile, but my frown only deepened, his reassurance doing little to alleviate my worry. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

His head tipped slightly as he considered the offer, before the cure of his lips softened, gentle brown gaze locked on mine. “You could hold me?”

No sooner had the suggestion – the soft, almost hesitant request – left lips slightly bruised by passionate kisses than I was in motion, bundling the lieutenant flush to my chest and pressing my cheek to dark, sweat-damp hair. “I’ve got you, Gregor. My sweet, wonderful, perfect Captain. You’re incredible. That was incredible. I’ve never felt so…” I trailed off as I fought for the words, a low shiver working through my depleted body. “Much.”

He hummed contentedly, pressing his lips to my chest and nuzzling closer as exhaustion caught up with him. “Good… That’s good,” he murmured, voice slurring, trembling subsiding. “That’s good… ‘m good.”

I bit back a fond chuckle, fingers caressing his spine. “You’re perfect,” I clarified softly, smiling as I brushed a feather-light kiss over his forehead.

Five

I was on deck when my Captain awoke, driven from the warmth of our shared bet a short while before by the alluring dawn calls of the seabirds. My body ached in the most satisfying of ways as I rested with my forearms on the railing, face upturned to the dazzling display scattered over the glassy open. It was a mild morning, warm and clear, and the sea was surprisingly settled so far from shore – we’d dropped anchor sometime in the evening while Greg and I were otherwise indisposed, ahead of a scheduled stop for supplies. The south coast of Sri Lanka was a little more than a haze in the distance, and I was, admittedly, somewhat nervous about shore leave; it hadn’t gone especially well for me last time, after all.

But a lungful of fresh salted air and the barest hint of a breeze caressing skin warmed by the sunrise helped ease my mind – as did the arm snaking around my waist, lips skimming against my bare shoulder, eliciting a tender smile, my gaze still on the sky.

“Good morning, Captain.”

He purred quietly, pulling me a little closer, kissing up my throat slowly. “Good morning, Snowflake,” he murmured, warm breath washing over my skin and making me tremble. “I woke up and you were gone…”

I couldn’t help but smile infinitesimally at the innocent sadness in his voice, fingers trailing over the strong arm around me. “I wanted to take in the morning,” I replied, equally quiet, reluctant to break the reverent hush of the dawn, punctuated only by the whispered lapping of minute waves against the hull. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“Mm, so you should be,” he hummed playfully, holding me tighter, and I grinned.

“Whatcha gonna do, Sailor? Make me walk the plank?” I teased back. My gasp was audible as he spun me quickly, pinned against the bulwark by his hands either side of me, face-to-face with his wicked smirk.

“I’m no pirate, boy,” he breathed, his mouth a half-inch from mine and making my heart race. “But… Maybe.”

Grinning, I kissed him quickly, then ducked under his arm, one eyebrow sliding into a playful arch. “Actually… A dip sounds quite nice right now…”

His eyes widened as I hooked my thumbs in slacks sitting low on my hips, throat bobbing visibly, and he glanced around. “Are y-”

The words trailed off in a groan as I turned, sliding down my trousers to reveal a bare – likely bruised – ass, stepping readily from my clothes and purring at the feeling of the warm sun on my skin. I could hear him beside me as I approached the rope over the space in the bulwark, and I moved slowly, unclipping it and stepping into the gap, eyeing the ocean beneath me with a grin. The moment I felt his fingertips skim my spine, I dove, eyes closing in pleasure as I broke the surface.

My body felt light and buoyant as I paused, lids parting to gaze into the depths. The sea above was a smooth, crystalline blue – but beneath the infinitesimal waves it became an explosion of colour, reds and yellows and greens in constant motion beneath corals in hues I could scarcely begin to explain. I watched for as long as I could, captivated, before my lungs cried out for air, forcing me to my own world once more.

Greg was staring down at me as I gulped in breaths, smiling fondly and slowly unbuttoning his own shirt. “Having fun?”

I grinned and nodded, leaning back. “You gonna join me, sailor?”

His eyebrow arched, gaze locked on mine as his own slacks hit the deck, followed quickly – and after a surreptitious glance – by his underwear. I purred with delight, then paused as he backed away.

… What the he-

My internal complaint was cut off by a blur as he dove over the bulwark a few paces further down the ship, emerging beside me with his eyes shining. “Hi, Snowflake,” he purred, sidling closer to kiss me softly.

“Where’d you go?” I breathed, wrapping my arms around his neck, our legs moving lightly to keep us afloat. With a grin, he raised a hand, two snorkels hanging from his finger.

“I thought you might want a closer look.”

With a gasp of delight – and a corresponding wriggle that left me spluttering on inhaled seawater – I nodded, unable to contain my excitement. “Yes, please!”

He laughed as he helped me into my goggles, offering me another quick kiss before positioning the snorkel between my lips. I grinned around the plastic, earning a cackle. His own equipment slid into place with expert speed, and he crooked a finger at me before rolling, his face disappearing beneath the surface.

The goggles allowed for a much better view, and I gasped through the pipe, the sound chased by a peel of laughter. I followed in my Captain’s wake as he led me along, trusting him wholeheartedly to keep me safe.

The seabed rose sharply ahead of us, and his eyes flicked to me, offering a hand. I was only too happy to oblige, letting him pull me along toward wonder and mystery. It wasn’t until we grew closer that I could discern shapes amongst the colours, svelte fish and slow-moving turtles weaving amongst the bony appendages, orange shoals moving as one beneath us. I couldn’t hide my joy, and he squeezed my hand affectionately, drawing my gaze back to him. His own eyes were not turned on the majesty before us, but instead locked on my face, soft and warm as he took me in. I blushed pre-emptively when he moved closer, removing his snorkel to press his lips gently to my cheek and letting out a low, tangible rumble of delight when I did the same, turning my head to catch his lips with mine.

We took brief dives toward to coral reef, holding our breath as we inspected the life in more detail. I’d have happily stayed down there forever – but a fierce tug at my leg and a lowering of my eyes had me rocketing toward the surface, shock and worry making my heart pound. Greg followed me swiftly, head cocked in confusion as he grasped my forearm, panting. “Are you o-”

“It’s on my leg,” I grunted, just a moment from panic. “I… Don’t think it should be on my leg.”

His head ducked below the surface once more before popping back up, grinning broadly. “I see.”

“Oh, do you?” I quipped, eyes narrowing affectionately. “Do you see the thing wrapped around my leg like a… Like a…”

“Octopus?” he finished, deadpan, and I couldn’t help but snort.

“Can you get it off? I intend to get out of the sea as naked as I got in, thanks!”

He chuckled and ducked beneath the surface once more, and I could feel his hands on my skin, moving about the tight grip gently. My leg twitched with relief when the pressure disappeared, and he reappeared, a dark grey creature trailing up his forearm. “See? It’s fine. It’s cute!”

��Cute,” I repeated apprehensively, leaning closer to trail a finger along the rubbery flesh. “… If you say so…” A tentacle reached  out to wrap around my hand, and I couldn’t help but smile softly. “… Yeah, okay… Maybe it’s kinda cute,” I conceded.

He laughed, gently lifting a tentacle from his skin. “They’re real popular amongst sailors on long journeys. I saw it a lot in the Navy,” he mused. My head cocked, and he smirked. “Well… They fry up quite nicely. And uh… Some people… Well… These little guys have a hell of a grip,” he added, his cheeks tinging with pink.

I frowned in confusion, then felt my jaw drop as comprehension dawned. “You mean they-”

“It’s not unheard of,” he interrupted, lip curling. “Not something I’ve ever… Partaken in myself, mind you.”

With a shudder, I stroked the octopus gently. “Well, none of that for you, little critter. Live long and prosper.”

As Greg carefully unpeeled the tentacled creature from his arm, he glanced at me, eyebrow raised. “… Did you just dismiss an octopus with a Star Trek quote?”

We scrambled back aboard the ship full of laughter, dripping and nudging one another, the faint marks on my leg giving the only indication as to what we were chortling about. I was light on my feet as I darted across the – mercifully still vacant – deck, snagging my slacks and stepping behind a few crates to shimmy into them. No sooner were they over my backside, however, than fingers caught the edge, sliding beneath with a purr in my ear.

“Now, now… Is that really necessary?” he murmured, and I trembled beneath his touch.

“Out here? Probably,” I chuckled weakly, letting my head fall back against his shoulder with a soft sigh. The sound morphed into a low, longing whine when his fingertips skimmed against the edge of my pubic hair, legs inching wider apart of their own accord, earning a chuckle from the Lieutenant.

“You don’t seem especially shy, Snowflake…”

I blushed softly, but I couldn’t keep my hand from curling around his arm, needily pressing myself closer. “You make it hard to behave myself…”

He grinned against my throat, purring his delight. A soft twitch of his hips made me gasp gently, shivering. “You make me hard,” he murmured, his length pressing against my ass through my slacks pointedly. I trembled and whined, pushing back against him, and his free hand travelled to cover my mouth as we heard movement on deck. “Do you think you can be quiet?” he breathed, pulling me to the mast and flush against his chest, the hand in my slacks teasing my already-wet slit slowly. I paused before nodding, breath coming harsh against his palm. My eyes rolled back in pleasure as a finger slid patiently inside me, his arms around me the only thing that kept me upright as my knees threatened to give way. The lips at my throat made me mewl pitifully, nails digging into his flesh as I fought to keep my voice down. He wasn’t going to take his time with me, that much became quickly clear; his thumb found my clit as a second digit pressed into my willing body, curled and precise, seeking out the spot that made me sob.

I wailed against his skin as he fingered me roughly, feeling heat rise in my neck at the wetness pooling in his palm. I may have been quiet, but the sound of his hand moving against me was lewd and deafening, and I couldn’t shake the certainty that we’d be discovered – not that the fear stopped me from pressing my hips closer or rutting harder. His touch was too much for me to bear, insistent as he was, and within minutes I was quivering, each muscle in my body burning with desire as they contracted under his will.

“That’s it, sweet boy,” he purred, lips brushing against my ear as he held me tighter. “So quick, so good for me… Come for me, Sergeant. I want to feel that pretty little cunt squeezing me tight.”

I cried out into a hand that pressed harder against my mouth as he worked me faster, body crumpling against him, helpless and powerless against the convulsions of my frame as I tightened around him on cue. His face buried in my throat, nipping sharply, his wrist only slowing when the rhythmic clenching of my pussy around his digits began to ease up.

And One.

By the time I could feel my legs again, I was trembling, stunned by his efficiency. “You continue to exceed all expectations,” I croaked weakly when his hand shifted from my mouth, leaning back against him tiredly. He simply chuckled softly in response, pressing a kiss to my temple, and slid his fingers from my slacks, earning a shiver of delight at the sound of him licking them clean beside me.

“I do my best,” he replied with faux modesty, sliding his hand into mine. “I do so love watching you come for me, Snowflake.”

With a snort, I flashed him a broad grin. “Feel free to do so anytime,” I replied, winking, and he arched an eyebrow. Silently, he shifted me from his body, leading me out of our hiding spot and across the deck. My cheeks flushed, eyes lowering to avoid eye contact with any of my crewmates, but nobody glanced our way save to call a casual ‘good morning’. His voice was steady as he replied, echoed by my own shaky greetings, envious of his nonchalance. I let out a huff of relief as the heavy cabin door closed behind us, and he turned to me once more, eyes sparkling.

“I think they need to come back off,” he purred, inclining his head at my slacks. “And I think you need to have that ass in the air for me, sweetheart.”

I gulped and moved quickly, obeying without question, flushing at the wetness coating my thighs as they were exposed to the cool air inside the cabin. He smirked as he watched, arms folded across his chest, humming contentedly to himself. I felt exposed as I assumed the requested position, bare ass and dripping pussy facing him as I bent over the bed, my cheek pressed to the sheets with a soft, needy whine. “Please,” I breathed, wriggling eagerly, enchanted by his desire for me. “Please, Sir, I-I need-”

My words died at the sound of his footsteps, breath seizing in my throat. He moved slowly, deliberately, each pace patient. I could all but feel his eyes on me, hungry and predatory, and shivered with delight.

I expected the touch of his fingers, or maybe the sound of his slacks hitting the floor – but instead I groaned aloud as his tongue passed over me, his own delighted purr vibrating against my wetness. Hands curled around my waist, holding me to him as his mouth explored me with astonishing ability, earning a cacophony of whines and whimpers for his efforts. The wetness on my thighs intensified, fingers clawing needily at the bedsheets, mind blank under his talented tongue. “Fuck – Greg, Lieutenant, Captain, please, please…”

He drew back long enough to kiss my exposed ass, humming happily to himself. “Yes, Snowflake?”

I pressed back eagerly, inching my legs further apart. “Please fuck me. I need you to fuck me. I’m aching, and dripping, and-”

My voice cut off once more as he pushed inside me quickly, driving any residual thoughts from my mind as my body jerked beneath his thrusts. The hands on my hips grasped tighter, fingernails pressing into my skin as he pulled me against him. “God, I love fucking you,” he breathed, moving slowly and forcefully inside me, making my breath hitch with each stroke. “You feel so fucking good…”

I moaned uselessly, broken and desperate as I rutted back against him, one hand travelling beneath me to caress my clit eagerly, lost in the feeling of him inside me. “You’re so good to me,” I whimpered, reaching back to grasp at his wrist as his hand found my shoulder to pull me closer. “So good – so, so, so g-”

“Hey, Cap, we’re just abo- Oh my God, really? Lock the door!”

With a yelp of surprise, Greg’s bodyweight found my back as he flattened himself, reaching over me to snag the duvet and cover himself as best he could. “Neri! Get the fuck out!”

“I was ju-”

“Not the time!”

The door slammed closed once more, leaving us in a horrified silence, and I turned my head to catch the eye of the sailor atop me just as raucous laughter broke out on the other side of the wood.

A few seconds later, we were chortling ourselves, his arms wrapping around me to hold me tight to his chest, tears streaming down his cheeks as he creased up. “Well… It was bound to happen sooner or later,” he cackled, shaking his head affectionately. “I’m so sorry…”

I snorted back, pressing my forehead against his throat briefly before meeting his eyes once more, touching my lips to his. The joy blooming in my chest had the tears beading along my own lash line spilling onto my skin, my forehead pressed against his own tenderly. “I love you so much, Grishenka,” I whispered, thumb smoothing along his cheekbone rapturously, and he smiled.

“I love you too, Snowflake. Infinitely and endlessly.”

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Erasure

Summary: Written for Any Fandom Dark Bingo and Bad Things Happen Bingo. Set during RttE. Hiccup has been branded and Dagur wants to make it go away.

Warnings: Branding, Violence

Rating: Mature

Prompts: Branding/Marking (Any Fandom Dark Bingo) , Damaged Vocal Cords (Bad Things Happen Bingo)

Words: 2 464

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Dagur, Astrid, Fishlegs

Pairing: /

Author's Notes: Inspired by Evil's The Death of Fire!

Don't think I've posted this one-shot here yet.

[evenfallwriter]

all my agony fades away (when you hold me in your embrace) - CH 1

Dazai calls Chuuya drunk from a bar on a stormy night at 3 am, and things just escalate from there on.

(this fic was slightly inspired by @caelanglang's drunk fem SKK drawings!)

WORD COUNT; 2,237 words

RATING; Teen (SFW)

CHAPTER; 1/3

WARNINGS; Attempted Rape, Depressed Character, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Heavy Drinking, Murder

FANDOM: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs

RELATIONSHIPS/PAIRINGS; Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)

CHARACTERS; Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Armed Detective Agency Ensemble (Bungou Stray Dogs)

ADDITIONAL TAGS; Drunken Shenanigans, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Murder, Protective Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Female Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Female Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Female Dazai Osamu & Female Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Heavy Drinking, Dazai Osamu Needs a Hug (Bungou Stray Dogs), Soft Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), July Break Bingo, July Break Bingo 2023, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Hurt/Comfort, Any Fandom Goes Bingo, Any Fandom Angst Bingo, Any Fandom Dark Bingo, Genderbending, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, (OH AND THE NON-CON IS NOT BETWEEN DAZAI AND CHUUYA!)

JULY BREAK FLASH BINGO PROMPTS || @julybreakbingo

- “I think I’m losing my mind.”

JULY BREAK MINI BINGO PROMPTS || @julybreakbingo

- Bar or Restaurant

BAD THINGS HAPPEN BINGO PROMPTS || @badthingshappenbingo

- Attempted Rape

ANY FANDOM ANGST BINGO PROMPTS || @anyfandomangstbingo

- Homicidal Tendencies (by Chuuya)

ANY FANDOM DARK BINGO PROMPTS || @anyfandomdarkbingo

- Blue on Black by Kenny Wayne Shepherd

LGBTQ BINGO || @lgbtqbingo

- Height Difference

[higuchimon]

Ok, guys, I'm going to need your help with this. Please choose a prompt and in due time they will be written. This is the general order I have in mind:

Tumblr prompts

Bad Things Happen Bingo

Any Fandom Dark Bingo

Rewrites (One-shots)

Once I get the prompts for Any Fandom Dark Bingo requested and the rewrite one-shots sorted out (still in progress), I will put up a list and get down to serious work. Here are the Any Fandom Dark Bingos - please keep in mind that so very many of my fanfics are being rewritten, so any prompts chosen for things such as Reversal/etc won't be a part of the Official Timeline(s). The only one off-limits is "Apocalypse AU", which I am claiming for myself as the first one.

Like when I was accepting prompts for Bad Things Happen Bingo, I'll update twice a day and/or when a new prompt gets chosen.

Here we go:

[anyfandomdarkbingo]

Hello!

So I am not sure if it's too soon to check in, but if we signed up and don't have a card yet...should we reach out or just wait? I wasn't sure.

Thank you!! :)

p.s. I think it's been a week but I am not 100% certain. Thank you!!

Hello! Thanks very much for signing up for AF Dark 🖤 We've got your card request and are working on getting it made! We ask that you please allow mods up to two weeks to get your cards to you as we're all running the bingos in our spare time and it's been a very busy couple of months for most of us 😊 Your card will be with you soon!

[sllewiswriter]

Any Fandom Dark Bingo Master List

This is my @anyfandomdarkbingo master list. This list will be updated as I go along.

As I write the story: I will update each square that I write, stating what fandom it is.

When I post the stories: I will add the links to the main posts about each square and a link to the story itself along with any possible major triggers. All information for the story itself will be on the main post.

Generalized Warnings: Will be updated as I write.

Fandoms: Will be updated as I write but most likely Naruto, Bleach, The Long Dark (Video Game) and Harry Potter in some version.

Row 1: Square 1 to 5

Puppy Play

Human Sacrifice

Horns - Bryce Fox

Serial Killer AU

Addict/Dealer

Row 2: Square 6 to 10

Bang Bang - Nancy Sinatra

Doll House AU

Addiction

Major Character Death

Online Catfishing

Row 3: 11 to 15

Hired Date

Arranged Marriage

Free Space

Enema

Asylum AU

Row 4: 16 to 20

Hatef--k - The Bravery

Infantilization

CEO/Secretary

Prison AU

Lifelong Regrets

Row 5: 21 to 25

Double Agent

Toy Story AU

Asphyxiation

Enemies with sexual tension

Toxic - Britney Spears

[heavenssexiestangel]

In Darkness, Light Chapter 1

Hello everyone. This is my new fanfic. See tags, notes, etc :)

Arthur Ketch/Dean Winchester Masterlist

In Darkness, Light Masterlist (Coming soon)

Any Fandom AU Bingo Masterlist (Coming soon)

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Arthur Ketch/Dean

Word count: 2547

Written for: @anyfandomaubingo

Prompt: Immortal AU

Tags and Warnings: Vampire AU, Vampire Dean Winchester, Jewish Dean Winchester, Trans Dean Winchester, Vampie Arthur Ketch, Jewish Arthur Ketch, Poet Arthur Ketch, Arranged Marriage, original poetry, Eventual Pregnancy. Eventual new tags and characters will be added as they appear.

Summary: Dean Winchester lives in Lawrence, Kansas, with his Nest. It’s both a peaceful and harsh life, but he is not sure he’d want to change it. One day, his father tells him they must go to Lebanon, Kansas, to meet another vampire Nest - a famous and strangely big one. John tells him he’s been talking with their Alpha for months, because it’s the Nest his father came from, and he wants to be part of it even though Henry Winchester left him when he was still young. The agreement is for Dean, John’s oldest son, to marry the other Alpha’s son, Arthur Ketch. Vampires mate for life, and there would be no way for Dean to get out of it - not without jeopardizing the relationship between the two Nests and dooming theirs. Despite Dean and Arthur disliking each other since the very first time they meet, they must learn to trust and be loyal to each other, no matter how rocky their path is.

Beta by @spnexploration. Thank you!

Notes: Hello, hello everyone! I come with a new, shiny, long story :) I had started writing it for the @spnproshipbang, but I had to, unfortunately, drop out due to having way too frigging much on my plate. I hope to participate in the next round, if there is one. Since I had the 1st chapter ready and I'm working on the second, and I have notes for the next few chapters, I decided to start publishing the story as I write it (as I usually do). As you will see, for each chapter (or most) I wrote and will write a beginning poem. The poem is written from Arthur's POV, as he's a poet in this story. As you may also see from the tags, Arthur and Dean (as well as the rest of the characters) are vampires. I will take a lot of the lore from SPN, but I will also add my own lore, which you will eventually see. Both Art and Dean are also Jewish, because, why the fuck not? :) And Dean is Trans. I wanted to explore a lot of things with this story, and I put a lot of my favorite tropes and topics in it. Hopefully, you'll like it too.

Excerpt:

Dean observed as his father played with an old, modified Colt, one of the many trinkets they had kept from their human victims. That one had belonged to one of those stupid, reckless people who often entered their home, certain they could kill the monsters living in it. They hadn’t had one of those in a while. John Winchester touched the weapon with expert hands, tracing the intricate decorations, and sighed at it, as if it had personally offended him. For all I know, it has… They had been sitting at the dinner table in what had once been the living room of the human house they had picked as their Nest for at least half an hour. His father had still not uttered a single word. Dean knew better than to break the silence, even though it was driving him insane. He tore away his eyes from his father and looked around the room instead, tapping his fingers on the table. The blinds made so that no light came from the windows, and no one could see inside. Both things were crucial for them – the light of the sun could be extremely dangerous, and humans would kill them if they found out what they truly were. Why won’t he talk? He wondered, staring at the wall behind his father, stacked with other weapons. What did I do wrong? There was no other reason for John to ask him to talk alone if not Dean fucking something up, which he seemed to do often, lately. His leg bounced up and down as he thought about what it could be. I was careful with feeding, he mused. And I haven’t mentioned Sam in months. His little brother was a taboo subject, ever since he had left the Nest after a huge fight with their father because he wanted to go live with the humans. That had not gone well for Dean or Adam, their youngest brother.

Read on Archive of Our Own

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[evilwriter37]

A Good Distraction

Rated: teen

Warnings: none

Relationships: Heather/Astrid

Word Count: 971

Summary: Heather knows the exact time Dagur attacked her village. How could she not? Now, every Mani's Night, she suffers, but this time, she has Astrid to help her through it.

Written for @httydbingo and @anyfandomdarkbingo

Squares filled: Polar Night (HTTYD Bingo), Insomnia (Any Fandom Goes Dark Bingo)

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Near Misses and Nearly Missed - Chapter One Loved or Lost?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> James "Bucky" Barnes x Original Nonbinary Character (Soldierbug)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> The soulmate part was just the way the world worked. The car crash? That was a little more unexpected. Sometimes a 'crash-into hello' is a little more... Crash-y.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 9039

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) Smut, Car crash (mild), distress

𝐀/𝐍 -> Less Romance, More Smut. Sorrynotsorry.

Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Dividers by us!

Prompts used (boards at the end);

- ‘Obsession’ – Any Fandom Dark Bingo( @anyfandomgoesbingo) ; - ‘First Meeting’ – Build-a-Bucky Bingo (September) ( @buckybarnesevents); - ‘Soulmate AU’ – @eclipsingbingo; - ‘Laughing While Kissing’ – Eclipsing Bingo (Dark); - ‘Wet Dreams’, ‘Scarring’ – @fandom-free-bingo Bingo (Flight); - ‘Double-Ended Dildo’, ‘Walking in the Snow’ – Fandom-Free (Frosty);

- ‘Fleshlight or Dildo’ – @julybreakbingo (5x5); - ‘Car Crash or Trapped in a Burning Building’ – July Break Bingo (6x6); - ‘Accidental Confession or First Kiss’, ‘Meeting someone they’ve been having romantic/sexual dreams about’, ‘Unexpected’ – July Break Bingo (7x7); - ‘Trust or suspicion’ – July Break Bingo (Kofi Exclusive); - “Why Are You Looking at Me Like That?”, ‘Cabin in the Woods or Stranded Without a Signal’ – July Break Bingo (Summer);

- ‘Dom Space’ – Kinky Things Happen Bingo (deactivated?); - “Taste So Good… So Sweet…” – @lgbtqbingo; - ‘Character A's Deepest Thoughts Begin to Mark Character B's Skin Wanting to Do Dirty Things. It Could Be Embarrassing at Times, and Character B Can't Wait to Fuck His Soulmate’ – @multifandom-flash (Soulmates); - ‘Crash-Into Hello’ – Multifandom-Flash (Valentine’s Day); - ‘Fuck Me’ – Sweetheart Bingo ( @sweetspicybingo);

‘It’ll happen for you one day… Right?’

I slammed my hand against the steering wheel, seething. How dare they? Just because they’re married now, they think they can accuse me of being a… A…

Snarling once more, I jerked hard on the wheel, the tyres skidding on loose asphalt as I skidded around the bend.

Just because I haven’t met them yet doesn’t mean they’re not still out there. I’m twenty-seven – I’m not that old. There’s still time. I’m not Lost. I’m not.

There was nothing in this world society pitied more than the Lost. Everyone had one – at least one – perfect person, a match just for them – be it platonic or romantic, as they needed. Usually in pairs, though triads, quads, or even bigger groups had been known to happen. The only given was that the Older, or Olders, were alive when the Younger turned eighteen. Usually, they met within a few years.

Which meant that either my Soulmate was younger than expected, or…

When the Younger was old enough, each time they thought of touching their Soulmate, the touch would show on the Older’s body, just for a few moments. It was thought to be so the Older knew it was time.

I’d never known a Younger who’d gotten past twenty-five before meeting their soulmate.

But maybe I’m just really unlucky. There’s stories about Soulmates living in different countries and not meeting until they’re both well into their thirties. Sure, it’s really rare, but it’s possible; it’s gotta happen to someone, why not me? Or – yeah, maybe they’re just younger than I thought. But I’d know if they were gone.

Right?

That was the other option, of course. The one only hinted at, or whispered about behind cupped hands.

The only guarantee for Soulmates is that they’d both be alive when the Younger turned eighteen.

That didn’t mean they’d live long enough to meet.

And that was the greatest fear for so many of us, increasing steadily as the years ticked by. The Lost weren’t rejected or ostracised from society – but they were very clearly other. As if not meeting your Soulmate wasn’t bad enough, you also lived life as a sad example of the height of loneliness and isolation. There were other Lost, of course – but people just seemed to view that as even worse, because ‘isn’t it just so sad, wanting what they can’t have?’

The Bonded didn’t have Lost friends. It’s just the way it was – no hard feelings. Bonded had weddings and playdates to attend to; how could a Lost understand or fit into that world?

And it was happening to me already. Rhodey and Pepper had been shooting me sympathetic glances all evening – the first time they’d hosted since they married the month before. I was the only Unbonded there – not Lost, not yet, but close. And I suppose she’d tried to be reassuring in a way, implying that there was still time, but…

But I just felt even more like the other; I already knew that it was only because of Steve that I was even still invited at all. We’d been best friends our entire life and served in the 108th together for four years – I’d looked after this scrap of boy, carrying his unconscious body to safety, collapsing from blood loss at the sight of an Allied convoy, my exhausted body finally giving in. I knew he’d argue in my defence, pointing out that I saved his life – but it wouldn’t work forever. Eventually the invitations would stop coming, and that would be that.

Lost.

I stood in my boxers in front of my mirror every night, hoping against hope that I’d see a glowing palm – or, hell, I’d take a fingertip – brush over my body. Everyone had said you could feel it – a gentle warmth of skin-on-skin - but I checked anyway, just in case.

And when I slunk to bed at last, flesh cold and heart sinking, I sent out a message of my own.

Just in case.

I pictured trailing my thumb gently over a delicate lower lip. I imagined cradling them to my chest, safe and warm. I fantasised about tucking a stray hair behind their ear, pressing a tender kiss to a sleep-warm cheek.

And sometimes, in the dark of night when I couldn’t sleep, I thought about other things, too.

That lip pulled between my teeth, applying gentle pressure until they groaned aloud and held me tighter. My hands holding them tight to me as they panted and gasped euphorically. Fingers tangled in their hair, face buried in their throat, lips pressed to their skin as we finally made love…

I wondered, as I found desperate release, metal fingers clinging frantically to the sheets, if there was someone out there who was shivering in pleasure at the warmth of my touch, driven to mind-numbing climax without ever having to raise a finger, their body glowing in the darkness.

I wondered what it would be like to hold them against me as I drifted off, hoping that someone somewhere, was smiling in their sleep and curling around a strip of soft light at their waist.

All I’d ever wanted was to meet my Soulmate. When I was younger, I’d never even considered the fact that I may not get the chance.

And now others had started to notice I was still Unbonded… It was the first step to being Lost.

Despite my anger and fear, the thought of touching them – in both the most innocent and sensual of ways – acted as the distraction it always did, my hands softening on the wheel.

I was going too fast, and I wasn’t paying attention.

When I rounded the next bend straight into a set of high beam headlights, I hissed and tugged instinctively on the steering wheel, eyes narrowing automatically.

But I was going too fast, and I wasn’t paying attention.

My wheels met the loose gravel at the side of the road once more, and I yelped as my tyres spun in a spray of asphalt, uselessly seeking friction as I fishtailed. My body jerked as the edge of my bumper clipped the passing car, and I pumped the breaks, turning into the skid and coming to a stop, heart pounding.

I sat still for a moment, inhaling a few shaky breaths before I was able to uncurl my fingers from the steering wheel, my mouth dry as it occurred to me just how close I had been to a far more serious accident. Climbing from the car, I intended to take a moment, inhaling the cool night air to let my annoyance dissipate- but the sight of the other car idling 100 metres down the road had me stopping in my tracks, nausea rising.

Fuck. Fuck…

What if they’re hurt?

What if-

The door opened slowly, one muscular, short-clad leg revealed as a foot found the ground uncertainly. Then came another, followed by tanned hands grasping door and frame firmly, the occupant stumbling as they rose from the car.

I stepped closer instinctively, though my concern was somewhat abated by their capacity to stand. “Are you alright?” I called hesitantly, apprehensive about moving my 6ft, well-muscled frame closer to this individual several inches shorter than myself – and likely shaken – on a dark, relatively remote country road. They leant heavily against the hood, poking thoughtfully at the bodywork as I moved nearer in response to their silence. “Hello?” I pressed, concern building once more at their silence and blatant refusal to look at me. “Hey! Are you okay? I’m so sorry; I didn’t even-”

I was ten paces away when they straightened and turned, arms crossing over their chest as they settled dark eyes on me, shining in the low light. “I’m fine,” they snapped, the slight tremor in their voice undermining the ferocity. “What the hell were you doing? Why did you swerve like that?”

I furrowed my brow in confusion, stunned into silence for a moment before shaking my head hard. “Your lights were too high; why didn’t you turn them down when you saw me?”

Their mouth opened furiously, but they paused before it snapped closed with an audible click, cheeks flushing dark. “You shouldn’t have been on the wrong side of the road!”

“I couldn’t fucking see!” I snapped, fists clenching by my sides in irritation. “Why weren’t you paying attention?”

They blushed harder, overwhelmed tears pricking their eyes. “I-… It doesn’t matter. What about you? If you’d seen me coming and not dropping my lights, you should have flashed me! Forget about me; why weren’t you paying attention?”

The question had me casting my mind back, and I couldn’t help but smile softly to myself, thinking once more of my hands resting lightly on my soulmate’s back. The person before me shivered, drawing me reluctantly back to the present once more, and I frowned. “Cold?”

“No, it’s a beautiful evening,” they deadpanned, sparing a glance to the snow falling steadily and rolling their eyes. “Of course I’m cold; I wasn’t expecting to be getting out of my car whilst driving through upstate New York, at night, in November. I didn’t really dress for the weather.”

I took them in once more, eyeing shorts and tee, topped with a thin checked overshirt that did little to keep out the chill. “No,” I agreed, pursing my lips, pausing only briefly before shrugging off my thick leather jacket and offering it to them wordlessly.

Their large, brown eyes remained oblivious to the proffered clothing, fixated instead on trailing the length of my arm, t-shirt offering no covering to hide the segmented metal of my prosthetic from view. The silver shone faintly in the low light of the moon, and I grimaced at their stare, looking away. “… You want the jacket or not?” I quipped, biting back a smirk as they turned crimson, ashamed of having been caught out.

“I- Yes. Sorry. Thank you…” They took the jacket timidly, hardly able to meet my gaze, and I sighed as their cold fingers struggled to manoeuvre the leather into position. My metal hand closed once more around the collar, and they dropped it quickly, earning a frustrated sound and an arched eyebrow.

“Are you going to do that every time you can see my arm?”

They reddened once more, scuffing a foot and looking away uncertainly. “Sorry,” they murmured with a guilty grimace. “I’ve just- I’ve never seen… I mean, I-I’ve not…”

I sighed as I moved around them, helping them slide their arms into my body-warmed leather. “I get it. I’d stare too.” My fingers flexed of their own volition as I smoothed the collar down gently, and my lip curled. “I did, actually. Saw a few guys come back from the front with replacement limbs not twelve months before I shipped out. Damn sure I stared at the first guy I saw; both of his legs were prosthetics. I remember thinking it was… Amazing, in a way, the things we could do now, but…” I shrugged a shoulder, eyes lowering as I took a half-step back. “I also remember thinking how much it sucked that these things were needed.”

They grimaced sympathetically, head half turning. “Yeah… I wish it weren’t necessary.” They paused for a moment, and I watched with curiosity as snowflakes clung to their eyelashes, each dendrite visible at their proximity. “… Does it… Does it hurt?”

Humming thoughtfully, I looked down at the metal fingers, watching those same snowflakes land on the surface without melting. “… It… Sometimes, I guess. Mostly at the shoulder, but…” I shrugged, jaw tight, trying to ignore the searing, insistent discomfort that burned along the line where metal met flesh each time I thought about my injury. With a firm shake of my head, I looked back at their car, and the snow beginning to fall heavier. “We should get out of here. This storm is gonna break soon, and we don’t want to be on the roadside when it does.”

A worried glance to the sky had them frowning a little, and they nodded, pulling out their cell. They sighed as they held up their phone, scowling deeply. “Of course there’s no service… Why would there be service when I need a tow?”

I cocked my head, eyebrow raising. “I only clipped you – surely it’s driveable?”

“Popped a tyre when I hit the loose gravel,” they muttered sullenly.

“No spare?”

They hesitated, blushing once more, feet shifting with embarrassment. “That was the spare. I put it on a few weeks back – guess I figured there’d always be time to pick up a replacement…” The second eyebrow joined the first, and their scowl deepened. “What? I struggle to remember these things; don’t act like you-”

“Who, hey,” I soothed, hands raising defensively. “I’m not acting like anything; I was just thinking what could have happened if you’d blown it while you were up here alone. It’s a little treacherous in the snow – most locals take the longer way, and we don’t get many tourists. It could have been days until anybody passed through,” I added, concern lacing my voice.

They shivered, pulling my jacket closer around themselves and gazing uncertainly into the woods at the dramatically timed howl of a coyote. “Oh…” A think smile flickered at their lips, and their eyes flicked back to mine. “Guess I’m pretty lucky you were here then, huh? Though I am still stranded out here,” they added, chewing  uncertainly on their lower lip.

“You can spend the night at my place, if you like. Or I can call a tow when I get home,” I added quickly, throat bobbing when they eyed me uncertainly. “I get it if you don’t want to crash at a random guy’s house – it’s a dangerous world out there, after all.”

Something in my tone made their taut muscles relax minutely, though they still glanced at me with shy appreciation and apprehension.. “I… That would be good. Thanks.”

After I’d helped them move their car fully free of the road – and readjusted my slightly misaligned wing mirror – we were on our way, their small, trembling frame seemingly swallowed by the heated seat that cradled them. I drove carefully through the steadily increasing blizzard, sobered of my previous anger by the bizarre turn of events.

“Mars,” they blurted suddenly into the silence, hands extending to be closer to the heater, their fingers flexing with a slight grimace. “That- I mean, that’s my name. Mars.”

I chuckled softly, shaking my head at my own forgetfulness. “Mars… Cool name. I’m James,  but most folk call me Bucky.

They frowned, digits stilling for a moment as they considered me. “Why? Do you hunt deer or something?”

The laugh this time was louder, joined by a grin at the disapproval evident in their tone. “No. My middle name is Buchannan – my friend thought it was cute when we were kids, and it just kinda stuck. I’ve been ‘Bucky’ for way longer than I was ever James – only my mom calls me that now, really.”

They hummed and nodded, relaxing once more at the reassurance – as if my vow that I didn’t kill Bambi was a comment on  the likelihood that they were in danger. “…Won’t your Soulmate mind you bringing back a stranger in the middle of the night?”

The probe was obvious, but I didn’t let it rattle me, simply shrugging light-heartedly. “Unbonded,” I offered before shooting them a wry smile. “What about yours? Didn’t fancy a little near-death experience?”

“I’m Unbonded, too,” they replied readily, scowling when my eyes shifted automatically to the silver flecks in their raven-black hair. “I’m not Lost, even if I am a little older than most. My Soulmate is a Younger, and I know they’re still thinking of me.” I just nodded in response – it was a common lie in the community of the Lost from those desperate to avoid the label, impossible to disprove as it was, and so it was hard to put much faith in without proof – and their frown deepened. “I know you don’t believe me, but just you wait. They think about me all the time, you’ll see. I’m not Lost.”

I nodded again, more firmly this time, hands raised with an imploring expression. “Whoa, hey – whatever you say. I don’t have any particular feeling about it one way or the other.”

They watched me for a moment, eyes narrowed, before turning back to face the snow falling thick and fast against the windscreen. That’s why I’m out here, you know. I’m not from here.”

I snorted softly as I turned into the dirt trail that constituted my driveway. “You don’t say?” I deadpanned. “The English accent definitely didn’t give it away.”

They chuckled. Shaking their head. “I mean, technically, I’m not from England, either. Mum met Dad while she was working as a nurse in Egypt, and he was doing his mandatory service; I was three when her contract expired, and she wanted to move home more than Dad wanted to stay in Egypt, so…” They shrugged, looking out of the window with an inscrutable expression. “I’ve lived in London ever since then. Visited family in Egypt a couple of times, though. It’s pretty fun, even if it is a bit of a culture shock.”

“And now you’re here?” I pressed gently, bringing the car to a halt with the engine idling, too enraptured by their story to consider such mundane practicalities.

“And now I’m here,” they agreed, glancing back to me. “I hit thirty-five, and I just… Couldn’t wait anymore, you know? So I travelled around the UK a bit, hoping to bump into my Soulmate. When that didn’t work, I figured I’d just… Keep going.” They shrugged a little, eyes sliding past e and widening as they focused on the building behind me. “This… You live here?”

I nodded, scratching the back of my neck uncertainly. “Yeah. I know it’s not much, but… It’s quiet, y’know? Out of the way. Keeps me out of trouble, at least,” I added with a wry grin.

“It’s beautiful,” they murmured, still taking in my cabin with wide eyes. “Very cottagecore.”

“I don’t know what that means,” I replied with a snort, shaking my head in amusement. They shot me a broad, impish grin, and I smiled back, captivated by the small dimple that formed in their left cheek.

I wonder if my Soulmate has any cute, unique things like that? I mused to myself, then grinned a little wider, imagining skimming a thumb over a similar dimple as I reached for my doorhandle, looking back as an icy blast of wind sucked the heat from the vehicle immediately. “Jesus, it’s cold – we should get inside befo-”

My voice died at the sight of a brush of warm lift over their cheek, trailing directly over their dimple and making their smile grown ever wider. “See?” they breathed, practically squirming with delight. “I told you. They’re still out there, and they think about me all the time. I’m going to find them,” they added determinedly, fingers knotting together in their lap with barely contained glee.

Coincidence. It – it’s probably just a coincidence. I shouldn’t get my hopes up – not until I know for sure.

But anxiety and fear had stilled my thoughts, and I could only blink dumbly. They all but scampered from the cat, warbling away with passionate energy, their own misgivings forgotten in the excitement as I followed slowly behind.

“I just spent a week in New York – man, is that place busy or what?! – and now I’m heading up to the Northeast for a couple of months; I hear Vermont is beautiful in the fall – does that extend to the winter, too? I hope so; I love the snow. Is it always like this?” They hopped into a snowdrift that covered their bare knees, cackling happily. “I hope my soulmate lives somewhere cool. It’s kind of funny, being half-Egyptian and all, but I really can’t deal with hot weather, not like my sister. Well, she handles it better than me, at least, but my cousins in Egypt handle it best! They came to the UK once, and they-”

Their incessant chattering was cut off with a yelp as they tried to leap from the snowbank, feet landing on a patch of hidden black ice that had their arms wheeling dramatically. I moved instinctively, fingers closing around their wrist to keep them upright, earning me a broad grin when they found their footing once more. “Christ – thanks! I bet it would’ve really hurt if I’d-… I…” Their eyes had dropped to follow my gaze, the glowing of their skin as I released them bold and unmistakable against a monochrome backdrop, finally rendering them silent. It wasn’t until the light began to fade that they blinked at last, oblivious to the snowflakes gathering in their hair.

“… Huh.”

My gaze shifted to their face, our contact finally breaking my mind free of its restraints, and envisioned reaching out to brush a thumb over their jaw - not a faceless stranger, but specifically this stranger, the oddball stood before me with a glowing stripe emerging across their skin.

They blushed, assessing their feet intently, still shyly unable to meet my eye. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You always knew I existed,” I replied with a soft shrug. “You knew I was out there somewhere.” While they struggled to look at me, I found myself quite unable to look away, captivated my small mole on their cheek and the delicate curve of long, dark eyelashes. “I worried that you… That we’d never get to meet.”

Their flush deepened as they glanced at me uncertainly. “But you never gave up hope. You reached out, every single night, holding onto me, and-” They cut themselves off as they turned crimson, teeth digging into their lip when they recalled what often came after. “That- that’s how I knew I had to find you. You were still hoping, even after all this time, and I loved that about you. Figured the lease I could do was help you out, y’know?”

I snorted, shaking my head. “And then I go and almost kill us both by being too busy thinking about you to pay attention to the road.” My eyes immediately lowered to their lips, remembering the fantasies of holding them close, sharing kisses from sweet and chaste to hot and heavy. They grinned shyly as their body glowed in response, and I smirked, one eyebrow raised. “So… Now what?” I pressed uncertainly, barely audible over the swirling of the wind, and they chuckled as they looked about themselves pointedly.

“I’m pretty sure the first step is to go inside; you know… Get out of the blizzard.”

I snorted, shaking my head at my own absent-mindedness. “Good point.” They smiled warmly and moved to take a step forward before crumbling with a whimper. I caught them as they fell, a hand beneath either forearm keeping them upright. “Are you okay?”

They lifted their foot with a wince, lip curling in discomfort. “I think I sprained my ankle when I slipped,” they grumbled, narrowing their eyes at the ground with distaste.

Chuckling, I shook my head once more. “Poor little critter… C’mere.” I offered my arms, and they blushed softly, wrapping their own around my neck obligingly. When I lifted them easily, holding them close to my chest, their body lit up along each inch of contact, casting a warm, comforting glow that set the snow around us aflame with refracted light, and I let out a quiet sound of wonder. “I didn’t expect it to be so… Beautiful,” I breathed, eyes wide, and they grinned, head resting gently against my shoulder as they nodded.

“It’s one of my favourite things in the world,” they agreed, gazing at the scattered illumination with a sense of adoration borne through familiarity. “I, uh… I actually used to have a whole bunch of crystals hanging all around my room, so it looked… Well, kind of like this, whenever you thought of me,” they admitted shyly, cheeks colouring.

I couldn’t help but grin at the confession, one hand shifting to find my keys as I loped up the steps. “That’s deeply adorable,” I chuckled, holding them a little closer while I unlocked the door. They squirmed happily, before becoming immediately distracted as I nudged the door open, head raising to look about themselves.

My cabin wasn’t much, but it was the work of my own two hands – and a few dozen others – and I couldn’t have loved it more. I offered them this information as I placed them gently on the wooden island in the centre of the kitchen, and they smiled, fingers trailing appreciatively over the mahogany.

“It seems idyllic,” they breathed, looking around once more. “You put a lot of work into this, huh?”

I shrugged, face heating a little as I turned away to peer in the cupboard under the sink, distracting myself with searching – far more than necessary – for my first aid kid. “Yeah, well,” I murmured, snagging the green bag. I didn’t say anything more until I was on my knees before them, their boot resting gently on my thigh as I untied their laces. “… I wanted to give my soulmate a beautiful life. I… Built this place for you, I suppose.”

The back of my neck burned as I removed the boot, and they sat silently for a moment. It was until I held their bare foot in my hands that I dared risk a glance up, startled to find them staring down at me, tears shining in their eyes. “… I’m sorry. I- Did I say something wrong?”

They laughed softly, wiping their eyes. “No. God, no. I just- I worried you’d think I was crazy, working so hard to find you. But you were doing a big, beautiful thing all of your own, weren’t you? I love that.”

I chuckled, gaze dropping shyly once more to probe at their slightly swollen ankle with gentle fingers. “It’s not much. I just… I had to do something to keep myself hoping, you know? Everyone was pairing up and finding their soulmates, and it was getting pretty tempting to just give up. I didn’t have any proof, after all. So I guess I… I decided to do something ready for if- when I found you.”

I didn’t look up as I spoke, focusing on wrapping their ankle in a supportive bandage, but the moment I was done, their fingertips brushed my arm, drawing my gaze to their soft smile. “I love it,” they murmured reassuringly, thumb still caressing my bare skin. I found myself blushing once more, clearing my throat as I stood, rubbing the back of my neck uncertainly.

“You’ll be okay. It’s a pretty bad sprain, but nothing’s broken; I’d recommend not driving for a few days, though.”

The words came automatically, and it wasn’t until a heavy silence hung between us that I realised the implications, both of us freezing with our eyes locked on one another uncertainly, before opening our mouths in unison.

“I can call a cab if you-”

“I’m happy to drive you somewhere, if-”

We broke off simultaneously, each letting out a soft chuckle, and they gestured me on, indicating for me to speak first. “I’ll drive you wherever you want to go, if that- I mean, unless you… You’re welcome to stay here, of course - that is, if you’d like to. I built it for you, after all,” I added, grinning sheepishly.

They nodded and blushed, assessing their wrapped ankle intensely. “That sounds nice.” They paused, they let out a short, sharp laugh, startling me. “Man, is it always this awkward? This seems like a terrible way for these things to work! We’ve just met, and we know we’re destined to spend the rest of our lives together? How the hell do we get from A to B? It should come with an instruction manual – I don’t know, icebreaker questions or something, you know? This is a lot of pressure!” They laughed again, and I snorted, shaking my head fondly.

“Okay – icebreakers,” I nodded, hopping up on the counter beside them, humming thoughtfully. “Any other siblings?”

They smiled gratefully and shook their head. “Just the older sister – Alice. You?”

“The same. Rebecca.”

Another nod, and they glanced around, seemingly searching for inspiration. “What do you do for work?”

I glanced down as my shoulder ached pointedly, flexing my metal fingers. “I got a pretty impressive payout from the Army for this, and that paid for a lot of the cabin, but I guess… I mean, I sell some stuff. Enough to get by, I suppose.”

“What kind of stuff?” they pressed, head cocked, and I blushed lightly.

“Photos and paintings, mostly.”

Their eyes widened, and they looked around eagerly as I chuckled. “You’re an artist? That’s awesome! Do you have anything you can show me?”

Snorting, I gestured at the wooden staircase ascending from the lounge. “My studio is upstairs – I’ll give you a tour in a little while, after you’ve rested that foot some. So, what about you?” I added, leaning into the centre of the table to snag a couple of water bottles. They took theirs with a polite smile, taking a long drag before answering.

“I’m a dog trainer,” they replied eventually, their grin stretching a little wider as they spoke.

“You love it,” I noted, and they nodded, eyes alight with joy.

“I do. Dogs are way better than people; there’s always a reason, you know? They’re not malicious for the sake of it; if they’re nervous or reactive, there’s a motivation or a cause behind it, even if we don’t always understand what that is right away. I like trying to find it out.” They paused for a moment, then nodded, as if confirming their thoughts to be accurate.

I couldn’t help but smile at that – the eclectic blend of logic and emotion with which they offered their reasoning. “That’s a beautiful approach to it.”

Their cheeks coloured once more, uninjured leg swinging absently. “Hm…” Their face grew darker, and they lowered their eyes shyly. “… First kiss?”

I barked out a surprised laugh, eyebrow raising. “… Lucy. I was fifteen. You?”

“Marty. Fourteen.” They picked at their fingernails, unable to meet my gaze, lips parted as they prepared to speak once more, held back by their shyness. “… Virgin?”

My jaw opened with my shock this time, and I blinked silently at them for a moment, dumbfounded. Sex before Bonding – or even after – was rarely talked about, regardless of how prevalent it was; most people weren’t too bothered about waiting, and I knew that less than half of people hadn’t had sex before they met their soulmate. I knew Steve had lost his virginity in the Army, but other than that, I had no idea as to the pre-Bonded relations of my friends. The idea that I might one day be answering that question myself had never crossed my mind.

I scraped absently at the label on my water bottle, chewing on my lip. “… Yes. You?”

“No.” I looked up, and they shrugged. “Virginity is a societal construct – I only use it as a convenient shorthand to ask about your experiences. I’m not worth less because I wanted to experience pleasure. People who haven’t had sex before they get designated Lost quite often never do; I wasn’t risking that, and I had several years before I started having Touches. So… Yeah, I had a couple of short things. I wanted to know what it was like, just in case, you know?”

I shook my head quickly, hands upheld. “No judgement. I’d probably have done the same.”

Frowning, they cocked their head to one side. “Why didn’t you?” they probed gently, and I stiffened infinitesimally, looking away. “You don’t have to tell me, not if y-”

“I’m transgender,” I murmured, still fiddling with the plastic in my hands. “I didn’t- I was never… Comfortable. I kissed a friend once, when we were younger, but…” I shrugged, blushing minutely at the memory of Steve and I at sixteen, awkwardly bumping lips in an innocent experiment, before determining we were definitely not attracted to one another. It would have been easy, had my soulmate been him – platonic, but simple. I could have lived that way. And if I’d been attracted to him, I could have had the experiences that being Unbonded, and later Lost, would have denied me, if I never found someone else I trusted so implicitly. But the spark simply wasn’t there, and the only thing that I feared more than never knowing what it was like was ruining my friendship with the man I’d known my entire life by us pushing through a cripplingly awkward experience.

They nodded once, leaning against me lightly. “Yeah, that makes sense. It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world for me; no chance in hell of me taking my shirt off! But I don’t regret it; I called the shots, so I did what I could to make myself comfortable, backed out when I realised I wasn’t up for it…” They nodded again, hand finding mine to rub their thumb comfortingly against my own. “I’m sorry you never had anyone you could feel comfortable with like that.”

Smiling gratefully, I rested my head against theirs, soothed by the soft touch and their calming pressure against my side. “Well… I mean, I always hoped you were out there. I figured I’d get the experience one day, if it were true.”

They chuckled quietly as a blush crawled up my neck, turning their head to press their lips lightly against the curve of my throat. “I’d be honoured to show you the things I learned, Buck.”

A low whine escaped me, the heat in my face intensifying at the sound and earning a quiet cackle of amusement in response. “I- hm. That… That might be nice. I mean… I guess you- you’re universally chosen for me, and everything… I’ve never heard of soulmates being anything other than a perfect match, after all… I guess you- we… It…” I fumbled uselessly, and they smiled, squeezing my fingers softly.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to – now, or ever,” they soothed, and I felt my muscles relax, leaning back into them.

“I know. Thank you,” I murmured, squeezing back. “I… Would definitely like to see how it goes.” My face flamed at the admission, but they simply smiled, pressing another tender kiss to my exposed throat.

“Well… I’m here for the next few days – at least,” they added, chuckling under their breath. “And we have… Well, forever, I guess. There’s no rush.”

I blushed and nodded, looking down at the hand entwined with mine, sun-kissed beige and warm olive wrapped together closely, the glow where their skin touched mine casting reverent light over our grip. My eyes dropped to their head, and I couldn’t help but imagine tipping their chin up gently, lips finding theirs in a chaste, perfect moment. I felt myself cringe inwardly from embarrassment as their face reflected my thoughts, and they grinned, glancing up at me. “I’d ask what you’re thinking about, but…” They smiled a little wider, free hand raising to smooth a thumb over their lower lip thoughtfully. “… I remember the things you thought about when I wasn’t in front of you – and this embarrasses you?”

“I didn’t know there was definitely anyone listening then… And you weren’t, you know, right there,” I added, chuckling self-consciously.

They gazed at me for a moment before their eyes dropped to my mouth, lips parting. “… Can I… Can I kiss you?”

I blinked in surprise, stunned to a brief silence by their boldness. “I- Yes. Please.”

I swallowed nervously as their hand shifted to cup my jaw, smoothing the stubble-roughened skin gently. “I can’t believe how beautiful you are,” they murmured, smiling softly. I had no time to formulate a coherent reply before their lips skimmed mine, soft and warm and intoxicating. The feeling of their mouth moving against my own was far more intense than I ever imagined, and I found myself whining softly in pleasure, hands finding their hips to pull them closer needily, letting out a low groan when their teeth skimmed my lower lip.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasised about this,” I breathed when we broke apart to reluctantly drag in lungfuls of air, and they smiled shyly, cheeks tinged dusky pink.

“Pretty sure I know exactly how often you’ve fantasised about it,” they purred teasingly, forehead resting against mine. “You woke me up more than once, thinking about me in the middle of the night.”

“I’m very sorry,” I chuckled insincerely, skimming my lips against theirs once more, unable to help myself.

“Don’t be,” they whispered, hand moving to tangle lightly in the air at the nape of my neck. “The amount of times I wake up just in time for me to- And, I- Sometimes during…” They trailed off at the half-formed admission, cheeks flaming and eyes dropping with embarrassment.

“That’s exactly what I was hoping,” I murmured, a soft, breathless undercurrent to my voice. With a resigned, surrendering sigh. I lifted them easily, depositing them on my lap with a knee either side of my hips as they squeaked in surprise. “The thought of you knowing I was thinking about you – that I couldn’t sleep because I wanted to touch you so badly – and making you moan, wherever you were out there…” I trailed off with a shiver of delight, my fingers tightening on their waist when they squirmed minutely. “It saw me through many a dark and lonely night, imagining what I’d do when I finally had you at my mercy.”

They grinned shyly, arms resting on my shoulders. “Well… I’m here,” they noted, glancing around pointedly before fixing their eyes on me once more. “So… I offer myself up to your mercy, Sergeant.”

The blood thrumming in my veins heated as they pressed themselves to my chest, and I groaned, my hands travelling down to their ass to lift them as I stood, my mouth finding theirs desperately. Fingers knotting in my hair, they crushed themselves against me, mewling needily against my mouth.

“Still wanna see the studio?” I breathed as I climbed the stairs, drawing back just far enough to offer them a teasing grin. They laughed aloud, legs tightening around my waist.

“After,” they murmured, mouth flirting my own once more.

“‘After’, huh?” I whispered playfully, their cheeks turning crimson in realisation, and I nudged open the bedroom door with a shoulder. They sprawled willingly when I gentle deposited them on the bed, arms stretched over their head to offer themselves to me. Rapturously, I trailed kisses up their throat, spurred on and taking direction from their soft gasps and moans of appreciation. My body pressed closer to theirs unconsciously, one hand tangling in their hair as I kissed them again, leg falling instinctively between theirs. They mewled and arched against my thigh, fingers clenched around my biceps as quivered, legs parting eagerly. The movement caused their own short-clad thigh to press against me, and I grunted in surprise, eyelids fluttering at the contact. With a hum of delight, they pressed harder, shifting minutely, gaze lighting up when I moaned softly.

“That’s cheating…” I murmured, blushing infinitesimally, returning my mouth to their skin and leaving a trail of light bruises over the glowing flesh of their throat.

“Hm?” they purred, still rolling a leg against me teasingly, a playful smirk tugging at their lips despite wide, innocent eyes.

“I’m new to this,” I offered with a weak whine, hands shifting to their hips to pull them closer despite my half-hearted complaints. “You already know all the tricks…”

“You’re better than you think you are,” they assured me softly, lips ghosting over mine. “You’ve rendered me speechless a hundred times from a thousand miles away… I’m sure you’ll be even better in person.”

With a faint blush and a slow, steadying breath, I nodded, moving in to kiss them once more. They sighed happily, eyes closing as their lips moved against mine.

They were right, of course. By their own admission, my late-night fantasies had brought them plenty of pleasure. But it was easy to be skilled in my own fantasies… Reality was a different matter.

Nervous though I was, however, there was no way I was letting my performance anxiety getting the way of something I’d wanted for years. One trembling, inexperienced hand inched under the edge of their shirt to brush a thumb over the soft skin of their hip, relishing in their subtle tremble of delight. The way they reacted to my touch spurred me on, and my fingertips worked under their waistband, smirking when they nodded eagerly at my clarifying glance. The fabric travelled easily over their thighs, and I dropped to my chest between their legs, fingers dancing over damp cotton. A quiet sound of need and pleasure radiated in their chest as I trailed my lips over the tender flesh of their inner thigh, thumb pressing against their wetness, earning a sharp gasp. Hands tangled in my hair, and I looked up, silently prompting.

“Please,” they whispered, eyes wide with desperate desire. “Oh God – please, James…” Groaning weakly, I tugged down the thin, black underwear, wetting my lower lip unconsciously at the sight before me.

Their legs fell wider apart as I shuffled closer, driven by an irrepressible need to explore slick folds offered to me so willingly. The instant my tongue grazed over their wetness, they let out a pitiful mewl, pulling me closer unconsciously and eliciting a ragged moan of delight from my parted lips as I buried myself eagerly between their thighs. Their back arched to press nearer to my enthusiastic tongue, intoxicated as I was by their sweetness, one of my hands moving to probe at their entrance as they squirmed in delight.

The feeling of their body stretching and clamping around me frantically had my hips shifting in a futile attempt to ease the ache between my own thighs. With a quiet, breathless chuckle, they tugged gently on my hair, drawing my gaze to theirs. “Good?” they breathed, eyes flicking pointedly to my needy writhing. I could only hum against them in response, refusing to ease my ministrations for even a moment to confirm my pleasure, hand and tongue shifting in unison as they shuddered and twitched. “God, that- that feels- Fuck, Bucky…”

With a soft groan of delight, I buried myself deeper between their eagerly parted thighs, relishing every tremble and moan as their fingers tightened in my hair. “Buck- Bucky, James, fuck, I can’t- I-I’m going to-”

Whimpering desperately, I rutted in vain against the sheets as they arched against me, body tightening and spasming around me, a frantic wail echoing around us as they came undone under my tongue.

I was quite unable to come to a halt, fingers still moving slowly inside them as my mouth needily chased every last ounce of their wetness, delirious with delight and pleasure. My own core was throbbing and dripping with desire - but I steadfastly continued my ministrations, reluctant to stop before I had to. Eventually, however, they tugged weakly at my hair, guiding me away from their trembling pussy with a soft whimper.

“H-holy… Fuck…” they breathed shaking, a minute wince flickering across their features as one leg stretched out along my side, bones groaning with the effort of movement. I rest my cheek on their thigh, panting as I gazed up at them with wonder and want, relishing the encompassing taste of them still overwhelming my senses.

“You taste like the stars,” I whispered rapturously, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. “I can’t believe how fucking good you taste.”

They blushed minutes as I looked up once more, flushed pink with pleasure and joy. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

I swallowed dryly, mind whirring at the possibilities, and I froze with indecision. I’d been fantasising about this day for a long time, and I’d covered a hundred different scenarios, each one now flashing before my eyes in a rapid rotation of pleasurable experiences I now had the opportunity to fulfil. “I don’t know where to start,” I admitted softly, and they offered me a tender smile, fingers caressing my hair.

“C’mere,” they murmured, tugging gently to draw me up beside them, oppressing close to my chest, one arm around my neck as the other hand found my hip, dipping lightly under the edge of my shirt to caress my skin tenderly as their mouth found mine. I sighed into the kiss, my own fingers curling into their hair needily.

“I’ve had so many fantasies that I just… I have no idea where to begin,” I breathed, earning a small, coy smile, their now-bare thigh pressing between mine and eliciting a quiet whine and a shuddering jerk of my hips.

“There was this one fantasy,” they mused playfully, slowly kissing along my jaw. “You had it a lot… I could feel your legs around mine, and you were stretching me out so much…”

I gulped, feeling my body tense at the thought. I knew exactly what they were referring to – an act that divided all those who tried, and one I was frantic to attempt. A wide line of light appeared over their thigh, and I blushed as they grinned broadly. “You like that idea, hm?”

Nodding weakly, my fingers flexed with desire, tongue passing over my lower lip dryly. “I love it,” I admitted faintly, and they beamed, fingertips shifting to my fly as they met my eyes, seeking my consent, the sound of my ripper deafening in the tense silence when I nodded.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears as they shed my jeans with tender, patient movements, pressing adoring kisses to the scarred skin of my thighs as each inch was revealed. They didn’t ask, but I knew they understood, each gentle pass of their lips over laddered flash soothing a disquiet anxiety in my soul of which I hadn’t registered the presence.

By the time the material was dropped to the floor with a hushed, heavy thud, my muscles were loose, the ache between my legs more intense than ever as their heavy-lidded gaze met mine. Settling themselves beside me once more, their fingertips danced lightly over my abdomen to tug gently on the hem of my shirt. This time, I found myself only too eager help, shifting upright to pull the clothing over my head with only the barest of thoughts for the scarring at either chest or shoulder, lost in the feeling of their hands mapping my skin attentively.

“You’re so beautiful,” they breathed as I lay back beside them, pressing a gentle kiss to my chest when I blushed, hyperaware of the warmth of their hand resting on my abdomen. “Can I touch you, James?”

I swallowed and nodded, breath catching as their fingers slid under my waistband, passing over short hair to reach between my legs.

The air rushed from my lungs at the first brush of their fingertips against me, the surreal experience of someone else’s touch caressing my wetness eliciting a quiet whine of delight. Reassured, they pressed closer to my side, one leg draping over mine as they trailed their palm along me lightly. “Mm, Bucky…. You’re so-” They cut themselves off, pausing in their ministrations as they looked at me for clarification.

“Wet,” I finished with only the barest hint of a blush, nodding reassuringly and rutting against them. “Fuck- you make my pussy so goddamn soaked…”

They groaned softly, face burying in my throat to nuzzle and kiss the delicate skin they sound there, fingers mercifully resuming their gentle caresses along my slick folds. “So soaked, my beautiful boy… I just want to make you feel so good…”

With a quiet whine, I hooked a thumb into my boxers, pushing them down needily and earning an affectionate chuckle for my desperation. The second I lay nude before them and their hand found me again, I let my legs fall apart, offering my dripping core to them shamelessly. Their purr was pure joy as they stroked and probed, searching for each spot that made me twitch ang groan and mewl pitifully.

My back arched when their finger slid inside me, an exhilarated moan falling readily from my lips, hand tightening in the sheets as I frantically pressed closer. The knowledge that this person, chosen for me by the universe, could make my nerves sing so sweetly – that they’d be able to do so for the rest of our livers together – made my head spin. Emboldened, I licked my lips, leaning over to my bedside table to draw out a long, black length of silicone, the flush barely rising up the back of my neck as I clutched it tightly.

“This what you want, hm?” I purred, my free hand knotting in their hair to kiss them deeply, grinding against their palm. “Best of both worlds, huh – stretching out that gorgeous cunt while I rub my soaked, desperate pussy up against it?” They gasped and nodded, hips already shifting against my thigh once more, the feeling of their juices coating my skin making me only more eager for them. With a reluctant groan, I shifted away from their tender touch, hungrily pulling their legs apart to offer their soaked heat to me once more and earning a shiver of delight at the motion. The  sight of them spread before me, offered and leaking, eyes blown wide with lust and skin shining with ghosts of my thoughts, gave me pause for a moment, enraptured by my good fortune.

I was shameless as I shifted between their knees, my own legs parting, relishing the way their gaze consumed every inch of my exposed flesh just as ravenously as mine did theirs; I could feel myself getting wetter at their eyes on me, and couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of utter bliss.

Their own wetness lit up as I thought about pressing myself against them, and they mewled quietly, shifting closer. “Please… Please, James, fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long, don’t make me wait anymore…”

With a trembling exhale, I shifted the dildo between us, watching with a heavy-lidded gaze as it slowly stretched out their dripping hole. They whimpered and gasped, back arching to force it deeper before their hand took over for mine, eyes moving to my own proffered entrance. The feeling of the toy pressing into me as they moved nearer was more intense than I could ever have imagined, a deafening groan leaving me as I rutted closer, frantically taking more of the thick length in an effort to find some merciful friction.

When their wetness brushed my own, my mind snapped, and almost feral kind of need overcoming me. My arm wrapped around their thigh to jerk them closer and pin them to me, my pussy squarely meeting theirs, our wetness mingling in a lewd cacophony that had my pleasure spiking even higher.

The way the moaned and moved against me, grinding with an urgency that even my wild fantasies couldn’t have predicted, quickly had the blood in my veins fizzing with my impeding release. My hands grasped at them in a futile attempt to hold them closer, fingernails carving rivulets into their flesh, whimpering with desperation as their eyes met mine, hand closing around my metal wrist to cling to me. “Please,” they gasped, somewhere between a cry and a groan, their gaze flat black as their movements against me became irregular.

“Give me everything, sweetheart,” I grunted, sweat beading along the nape of my neck, losing myself in the building tremble of their muscles and the soaked cunt rutting frantically against my own, clit grinding and nudging until their back arched as they wailed.

Their pussy clenched and quivered, jerking the toy inside me, tears rolling freely down my cheeks as they cursed and sobbed, fucking themselves desperately through their climax. The sensation of their wetness intensifying, flowing freely and mixing with mine as they spasmed, dragged me over the edge, and I pressed closer desperately as I groaned, nails breaking skin as I fought to bury myself deeper, to have as much of our bodies in contact as I could.

Their name fell from my lips as a cry of utter ecstasy, vision darkening around the edges as I rocked through my orgasm, hips finally slowing and easing up as Mars’ body fell still, limp and depleted and whimpering softly in pleasure. When I halted at last, they half-lifted their head to meet my faze, aftershocks sending gentle jerks through their body. “I… Oh God, that was…”

I laughed weakly, shivering with the fading adrenaline. “Yes… Yeah, it… Fuck, it really was.” My movements were slow and clumsy as I drew back, relishing in their shaky whimper as the toy left their quivering body and letting out my own soft groan of pleasure and delight at the mess leaking from their stretched hole. “Beautiful,” I breathed, wincing with sensitivity at the drag of the toy over my own overstimulated pussy, dropping it aside to collapse beside them and pull their spent body to my chest carefully. “You okay?” I murmured, trailing a fingertip softly over the delectable curve of their jaw.

They nodded and grinned shakily, releasing a soft sigh of contentment. “I didn’t know it could feel like that,” they admitted quietly, and I pressed a gentle kiss to their hair.

“I didn’t know I could feel like that,” I agreed, my eyes drifting shut of their own volition as Mars burrowed closer into my side, one leg hooking over mine to press themselves nearer. “Stay,” I breathed as my muscles grew sleep-heavy, and they half nodded against me.

“Yes,” they mumbled, fingers tightening a little against my skin. “Yes, please.”

[tarlos-spain]

You, me and something is coming

Chapter 05

Carlos looked at all those people in his house and then realized that he was at a total disadvantage if things went wrong. Neither his uncle, nor his two cousins were making the slightest effort to hide how much they didn't like being there and listening to Carlos' words. His aunt and cousin on the other hand, seemed more uncomfortable about a situation that Carlos didn't understand everything about.

"Tïo Camillo, Aunt Paula, I thank you for visiting and I thank you for caring about me, but I promise you that this baby" Carlos put his hands to his belly and smiled. "is one of the most beautiful things that has ever happened to me."

"You can't be serious." Uncle Camilo said. "That... thing... that crit that is growing inside you, it's the devil's child, Carlitos. God didn't want men to have children for a reason, and neither you nor I are the ones to doubt his actions or to accept that this is something that should come to fruition."

Carlos stood up. He was a person who had been taught education by his parents and accepted any kind of opinion and point of view. He accepted that some of his family would not look favorably on no relationship with TK and he imagined there would be comments of all kinds when they knew they were expecting a baby.

But having the courage to be a happy, open and out gay man had also taught him not to accept the insults and rejection that came in the form of those who tried to make him see that the life he had worked so hard to shape was not the right one.

"Uncle Camilo, I don't think that's the way to talk to me in my house...anywhere really. I understand that you don't accept my life, but that doesn't give you the right to insult my future son like that." He walked over to the door and gestured to them all. "So, I'd appreciate it if you'd all leave."

"Haven't you had enough Dad?" Fernando, one of Carlos' cousins, suddenly said.

Camilo nodded.

"Let's get this over with, there are a lot of things to do and we don't have all day."

When Carlos turned around, first came the pain in his belly and then he realized he had been stabbed with a knife. He staggered and groaned painfully as the knife blade came out.

"What are you... doing? My baby..."

[stealingyourbones]

(Click for better quality or view the read more to see a text version of the tropes)

Take your best shot at DPxDC Non-Trope Bingo! This is a writing challenge, not an ask meme. The goal for this isn't to be critical of common DPxDC tropes, but to do a fun writing challenge that flexes your creative writing! Diagonal, Horizontal, Vertical, and Blackout bingos are allowed. Write a fic without the tropes for your selected bingo! How to submit your fic: - Tag @stealingyourbones with your fic and bingo - Reply to this post with your bingo - Add your fic to the NTDPxDCWB ao3 Collection

Row 1 Column 1: Danyal/Demon Twins/Secret Twins/Is a Wayne Row 1 Column 2: DP Character Works at: (Pizza Shop, Wayne Enterprises, Arkham, Book Shop, Batburger, Coffee Shop, Watchtower) Row 1 Column 3: Adoption/Unofficial Adoption/Adoption Bait Jokes/Mistaken for Wayne/Parent Batkid Row 1 Column 4: Shipping (as main focus/ within fandom shipping) Row 1 Column 5: Ghost King/OP/Eldritch Danny/ GZ Ambassador Danny

Row 2 Column 1: Summoning/Constantine Sold his Soul/Not Pariah Dark but it’s Danny bait and switch/Batfamily used as Sacrifice Row 2 Column 2: Liminal/Ecto-contamination/Lazarus Pits as Ectoplasm Row 2 Column 3: De-Aged/ Physically Different Danny/ Animal Transformation Row 2 Column 4: Anti-Ecto Act Ignorance by Any Heroes/Secret GIW/Amity Park is Unknown bc Firewalls/Ghost Magic/Etc Row 2 Column 5: Reveal Gone Wrong/ Fleeing Amity/ Bad Fenton Parents

Row 3 Column 1: OP Amity Parkers/Amity Similar Levels of Crazy to Gotham/Danny Not Shocked by Gotham Row 3 Column 2: Mistaken for Clone/Clone/Clark Hates Clones Row 3 Column 3: Batfamily/Gotham Row 3 Column 4: Homelessness Row 3 Column 5: DP Character Works as: (Ice Sculptor, Medium, Engineer, Chemist, Burglar, Rogue, Vigilante)

Row 4 Column 1: Good Dad Bruce/WFA Dynamic Batfamily Row 4 Column 2: JL/Any DC character even remotely being shocked by Danny/his situation/ghost zone Row 4 Column 3: Danny starstruck by Aliens in JL/ Space Core centric fic/ Space Ancient Danny Row 4 Column 4: Dani as Danny’s Daughter/ Danny as Jazz’s Son/ Fentons as Dan’s Kids Row 4 Column 5: DP Character Goes to: (Gotham Academy, Gotham University, Coffee Shop, Library, Gala)

Row 5 Column 1: Shipping (cross fandoms specifically) Row 5 Column 2: DP Character Is: (Retired Vigilante, Knowledgeable About Ghosts, Related to DC Character, Roommates with DC Character) Row 5 Column 3: DP Character Kills Joker or Rogue\ Fear Gas doesn’t Work as Intended Row 5 Column 4: Lady Gotham/Eldritch Gotham City Row 5 Column 5: Related to Wonder Woman via Pandora/Trained by Pandora or Clockwork

[higuchimon]

This is mostly from curiosity: should I accept requests for Any Fandom Dark Bingo or just write it as I please? Prompts are available by clicking the Any Fandom Dark Bingo tag.

Either way, I decided that the Reversal rewriting can wait a bit & I will focus this year on filling my Tumblr prompts & Bad Things Happen Bingo (& possibly Any Fandom Dark Bingo). People have been waiting a long time for those so I need to get them done.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

His forever and ever

// Chapter One //

// Pairing //

-> (Ex-)Boyfriend!Mob!Bucky Barnes x (Ex-)Girlfriend!Reader

// Summary //

-> Moving on, living with your best friend and working in a part isn’t as easy as you thought but it’s not bad either. Some flirts here and there — you can be whoever you want, right?

// Wordcount //

-> 4.067 Words

// Warnings // Teen

-> angst, kind of stalking, comfort, best friend Steve, flirty John, mention of violence, jealousy,

// Authors Note //

-> The biggest thank you to the amazing @bucks-babe for proofreading and coming up with more details.

// Events //

-> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night | B1 | Cold as ice | @fandom-free-bingo

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

// Series Masterlist //

<- Prologue

It’s been a few weeks since you left the mansion, the day you left you went to your friend, Steve Rogers. You both know one another since you’re kids, you grew up together. He is like your older brother, he always takes care of you.

He is handsome too, short blond hair, mostly styled and he has a highly defined muscular body, but the best of him are his oversized hoodies. Or more like his fitting hoodies but for you they are way too big and you love wearing them, especially since you broke up with Bucky.

Steve’s hoodies give you some comfort, feeling like a big hug and sometimes you also sleep with them. It doesn’t feel so cold since Bucky isn’t there to cuddle you and Steve is working and cuddling with you on the couch — then his hoodies are the best solution.

Your best friend never judges you for the movies you watch, the ice cream and chocolate you eat or laughs about the amount of tissues you need during these movies or just when you feel like everything's coming up and you need to cry.

He would and has never judged you for that, mostly he is offering you more ice cream or chocolate or he pulls you close against him, caressing your back and telling you that it will be better in a bit, that everything is going to be fine at some point. And that a pretty girl like you will find someone who deserves your love, someone who will treat you like you deserve.

Sometimes you ask yourself why your best friend needs to be gay, it would be so much easier to marry him, you know him so well and even though you’re not even the slightest bit over Bucky the thought of marrying your gay best friend is a bit funny.

Bucky is on your mind whenever you’re not fully distracted, when you close your eyes you see him in front of you and when you go out and see a man with long brown hair you always feel like it’s him. He is following you everywhere and you try as best as you can to move on but your heart still aches.

Little do you know Bucky feels the exact same but he doesn’t show it like you do. The man you used to know is deep down under a surface of hate and power. He doesn’t want anyone — not even his friends — to call him Bucky any longer, he is James Barnes and people have to look up to him.

The main time of the day he is working, mostly from the early morning into the night, but when he walks back into his room, the man he tries to be the whole day breaks down, his heart shattered and he didn’t know that it’s even possible that he can break that much.

James Barnes is nothing but a broken man, missing the only woman he loves, he is nothing without you, he can’t even laugh without you being around to give him a reason to laugh. The light in his dark turned off, leaving a hole where he is still falling, he feels like there is no ground underneath him.

“James?” One of his men asks and he looks up, rolling his eyes annoyed. Bucky has dark shadows under his eyes, he doesn't get much sleep and he mostly cries himself to sleep — thinking he is pathetic, crying as a mobster but he can’t help when he thinks about you and especially not when he thinks about you moving on, maybe having another man who makes you happy.

“What? Can't you all just fuck off and do as you're told?” He asks, his voice dark but slightly shaking. Since the day you left the mansion to move on without him he isn't himself anymore. Or maybe he is but he is the darkest and coldest side of himself he can be, trying to forget everything, trying to move on but who would he be? Would he move on without you by his side?

How could he dare to love himself when he pushed the only person who means everything for him away like she doesn't mean anything for him. He looks at the man in front of you, his blue eyes a storm of emotion but only for the ones who have seen the real man behind that cold surface, who have seen the lovely and sweet man.

“You wanted us to keep you updated,” the other man says, slightly shifting from one foot to the other. James doesn't care, he already knows, of course he told his men to keep him updated about you but as much as he tries to focus on his other work he just can. So he spends most of the day following every step you do, finding out about the place you live now, the place you work or where you spent your nights with.

“And do you have news or do you want to waste my time by standing around instead of doing your work?” James asks, rolling his eyes once again, sighing deeply. He leans forward, placing his forearms on the desk he is sitting at, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his muscular tattooed arms. “Dickhead.”

The man who is still standing in the door of James' office looks at his boss with a slight shock in his widened eyes. He plays with his fingers, trying to calm his nervousness before he clears his throat, looking away from James. “S—She is going to the bar today, probably working but we heard that Steve is going there with her.”

Steve? James knows about your best friend, your gay best friend. He nods, scratching his beard. “Steve, huh? Describe him.”

The man nods, trying to remember the man he means. He inhales deeply, still nervous around the mobster and James' anger doesn't make it better at all. “Light brown hair, uhm tall and muscles, he had a girl close to him.”

“Oke, fuck off now.” The man turns immediately around, making his way as fast as possible out of James' office. The brown-haired mobster leans back in his chair, inhaling deeply while he tries to blink the tears away. It’s not your best friend youre going out with so who the fuck is that guy?

What does that Steve guy that he doesn’t have? Bucky could have given you the town, the whole world, but also the flowers you love so much, so what do you see in Steve? James brings his hand to his hair, sliding his fingers through his soft brown hair and when he closes his eyes for a moment it feels like it's your soft, smaller hand that combs his hair back. Your scent still lingering everywhere he goes and he is sure that it's just in his mind because not even your shirt you forgot is smelling like you anymore.

Sometimes it feels like the weight of the world is crashing on top of him, showing him over and over again that he messed up and that he should have been a better boyfriend for you. Maybe you would still live with him, maybe you would love him the way you used to and just maybe you would have your own little family now.

So just as he does so often he plans to look after you, making sure you're fine even though he never talked to you. James often went out to the place you were, looking for you and looking at you from a distance, he didn't want you to know that he is following you everywhere like a lost puppy — like the lost and broken puppy he is without your warmth and love. James gets up from his chair, making his way through his office to get ready for the evening to finally get you back, to get back the woman he loves more than anything else.

“Stevie, can we go now?” You ask, laughing when your best friend still struggles with his outfit. He walks out of his room, holding up two different shirts, and looks at you with a questioning gaze. With a playful roll of your eyes you look at the shirts he is holding in his hands until you point at the light blue one with the silver star on his shoulder. He nods with a soft smile, turning around and changes his shirt before he stands for the next problem of the evening.

“How do I want to style my hair? Do you think there are some hot guys, then I should look good too, maybe I can take one home later,” he giggles, standing in front of his mirror, fingers running to his short blond hair while he tries to style them a bit.

You chuckle, getting off the couch and walking into his room, standing behind him and he immediately gets on his knees so you can help him with his hair. A groan leaves your lip when you realize how easy he is going on his knees for you. “You always look handsome, Stevie. But how about we comb them back? Maybe they are going on their knees for you just as fast as you did for me right now.”

Steve laughs, letting his head fall back against your leg and smiles at you. His ocean blue eyes glowing slightly and for a moment you see Bucky kneeling in front of you. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply and letting your mind run wild, imagine Bucky there with you, the way he looked at you with such adoration and love in his eyes. Whenever he looked at you his smile grew and his eyes lit up in the most beautiful blue, you always compared it with the ocean, especially during the sunset when the sun was kissing the ocean.

“Princess, hey, look at me,” Steve says, lifting his hand to bring it to your cheek, he wipes away the tears you didn't even know were covering your cheeks. You open your eyes, looking at your best friend, who smiles sadly at you.

He would love to take that pain away from you, to help you forget Bucky but he also knows that you're just not ready to do that. Your heart belongs to the mobster and it will probably forever.

“How about we let my hair be a bit messy?” Steve suggests and gets up before you can say anything. You nod, taking a step backwards and letting him get up. He holds his arms out for you to let him hug you and you smirk a bit when you let him pull you close against his chest. You can feel his defined muscles and his heart beating in a steady pace against his ribcage.

After the needed hug you make your way to the bar you're working at. Steve and you were often there to get you distracted after the break-up with Bucky. And you really appreciate it because just a week after going there the first time the boss of the bar asked you to work there as bartender and you immediately agreed.

It's a small bar with a little dance floor, the people who work there with you are really nice and also the customers are always nice. When they aren’t you can tell the bodyguards that you feel uncomfortable and they would immediately throw them out of the bar. Your boss made it clear “You feel uncomfortable? Let the bodyguards know and they will throw them out. Want my people to have fun at work, so never hesitate to say something.”

You’re already working for around half an hour and Steve is sitting in front of you, talking to you. You both always gossip over the boys in the bar, especially the ones Steve likes to look at and the ones who look at him. “Do you see that small guy there? The one with the dark hair.”

Steve nods in a direction and you chuckle when you see the man he is talking about. The other man is definitely that type of guy Steve would date. You smirk, leaning over so you're closer to Steve. “Catch him, tiger.”

Your best friend turns around, laughing about that nickname. You don't know when you called him that the first time but you describe his way to get a boy is always like a tiger is looking for his food, quiet and careful before he jumps on top of it.

When the smaller man walks closer to the two of you, your grin widens. You notice that man, you have seen him a few times here already and he was often looking at Steve then. You know his name and you also know his favorite drink, so you tap Steve's shoulder to get his attention, leaning closer once again.

“Stevie, he is coming here. I know his name and his favorite drink, do you want to impress him?” You ask, laughing when Steve’s eyes widen in excitement before he nods slightly. “His name is Anthony Stark but he prefers to be called Tony, and his drink is whiskey, so do you want to order two whiskeys for the two of you?”

You already prepare the drinks when Steve nods and turns lightly to the side to find Tony standing just a bit away from him. Your best friend gets off the chair, holding his hand out for Tony to take it and the smaller man does, smirking at the blond-haired man.

“Hi, handsome, how about a drink? Maybe a whiskey?” Steve asks, catching the smaller man off guard until he hears you giggle and looks at you, shaking his head. Tony then nods, letting go of Steve's hand and walking closer to the bar you're standing at, he takes a seat, waiting for Steve to do the same.

“Here you are, boys,” you say, smirking when both of them are already deep in their own talks, only nodding their heads as a thank you for the drink. You continue to work, making drinks and snacks for every one who asks for something.

When you have a short break, you stare at the people dancing in the middle of the bar, laughing and then you see Steve and Tony jumping and dancing around, waving at you. You wave back, laughing softly about their cuteness. You don’t notice the man who is sitting close to where you’re standing at the bar, his eyes roaming over your face and he can't help but need to smirk when he sees your eyes light up and your lips curl into such a beautiful smile.

“They look happy, have seen you know them? Such a cute couple,” the man says and you yelp in surprise, turning your head and feeling your cheeks heat up. He smirks at you, changing his seat to be closer to you and you giggle softly, when he places his arms on the surface of the table, his smirk grows when you prepare a drink for him.

“With or without lemon?” You ask, already letting a bit of lemon fall down into the glass filled with whiskey. Before he can answer he sees you adding the sour fruit and nodding, tilting his head to the side when you place the glass in front of him. “For free, because I'm in a good mood after seeing my best friend being so happy like that.”

The man chuckles, he then takes a sip of the drink and growls satisfied about the taste. “It's perfect, I'm John by the way, and who is the pretty girl I have the honor to talk to?” John asks and you giggle lightly, you had a lot of flirts since you have been working in the bar but he is definitely one of your favorites.

“I'm Y/N,” you tell him, looking straight into his blue eyes. Sometimes you wonder if you have a kind of weakness for men with blue eyes. But whoever stands in front of you can have the most beautiful eyes but they are nothing compared to Bucky’s, especially not to his ones when he was laughing.

It annoys you that he is always in your mind, stopping you from being happy completely but on the other side you're scared that when you would stop thinking about him that often you could forget about him. He hurt you, he broke promises and broke a part of you with that but no matter what he did you love him more than you ever thought you could love someone.

“Such a beautiful name. Are you alright, you're not looking as happy as you best friend and his date,” the blond haired man asks and you try to smile it away, the pain that is glistening in your eyes. “Do you know, I'm a stranger but I'm a cool stranger and sometimes it's easier to tell someone you don't know about your problems instead of someone you do know very well.”

He takes another sip of his whiskey, his eyes still piercing in yours and you sigh softly, shaking your head. Maybe he is right, maybe you should tell him about Bucky, about your break-up. But when you do you better not call Bucky by his name, people like to react really weird when they know that you were together with a mobster. You make yourself a drink too, just lemonade with some ice before you place your hands on the counter in front of you, nodding your head.

“You could be right. I mean I don't know but who cares right?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to make it easier for you to talk about Bucky. John nods, waiting patiently for you to continue talking.

You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him longer than just these five minutes. His patient and his soft smirk across his face causes you to relax, you weren't able to do that in a while but you're glad you can relax around another man than Steve — or Bucky — especially right now. And a part of you is glad that he isn't just one who wants to flirt with you but is really interested in you and your feelings.

“My bo- my ex-boyfriend and I broke up a few weeks ago. He used to be so sweet and caring but at some point it felt like his work was the most important thing in his life. He promised to go out but he never kept that promise, he made it up to me— yeah, with really good sex. But it's not all when you never get the affection and love you crave and when your boyfriend thinks you're self-evident and willing to forgive him everything no matter how bad he hurts you,” you tell John, his smirks fades away and his eyes narrow slightly. He places his hands underneath his chin, nodding when you finished talking, giving himself a moment to process what you just said.

After a moment he clears his throat, he interlocks his fingers and places his chin on top of them once again, then he smirks softly at you. “He didn't know what he had when he treated you like that. Heartbreaks always hurt but I'm sure you will find someone who will bring back your smile, who will love you and where you’re the priority in his life,” John says and makes you blush.

Even though you blush and appreciate his words, whenever you hear those words you think about Bucky. The way he used to touch you, his lips so soft and warm against your skin, he knows you better than you do and the way he just looked at you. He always found the best solution to comfort you even though it was just a hug or kisses, he always had a solution for every feeling that wasn't happiness. You felt like you were the most adorable woman, even the day you moved out he looked at you like that, you can still see his teary, red eyes when you told him that you need to move on when you close your eyes.

When you open your mouth to say something you see someone walking toward the bar. You swallow thickly, recognizing the man who makes his way toward you. Only now you notice the way the people close around the bar whisper something to one another and stare into two directions, the one is toward you where the broad man is walking toward the bar you're standing behind and the direction is to the lounge in a corner of the bar.

John turns a bit around to look at the man who causes your eyes to widen. Your body starts to tremble and you don't even have to look to the lounge to know who is sitting there. You inhale deeply, maybe they just want a drink and nothing more, he doesn't know that you're working in the bar, right? But he always told you he will find you and he can find everyone and anything if he wants.

“H—Hi, do you want to have a drink? Maybe with some snacks?” You ask nicely, hands shaking when you want to turn around to grab two glasses. He didn't even pay attention to you, Thor — Bucky's Bodyguard — looks down at John who narrows his eyebrows, looking confused between you and the broad man in front of him.

“You should leave now,” Thor growls, nodding his head toward the door but John doesn't move. You feel really uncomfortable right now but you’re frozen to the ground, not able to walk a step or ask some of the bodyguards of the bar. And you're not even sure if they would throw the mobster and his man out of the bar.

“I don't think you can tell me what to do, and I’m having a good talk with this beautiful girl here, so please leave us alone,” John says, calmly when he turns back toward you. His eyes widen when he sees the terror in your eyes, and your body trembles while you stare at Thor. “Are you oke?”

You move your head slightly to look at John, nodding your head before you shake it and swallow thickly once again. Thor's hand snaps forward, grasping John's chin and turning his face with force back toward you before he forces John to tilt his head back, grabbing tight around his jaw while Thor leans closer. There are only inches away between both men's faces. “I told you to leave and I won't say that again. My boss doesn't like it when someone who isn’t him flirts with his girl.”

“You can tell Bucky that I'm not his girl anymore. I broke up so leave John alone,” you say, feeling a smooth tingling in your lower belly that Bucky still says that you belong to him. But at the same time you are kind of mad that he wants to decide who you’re dating, especially when he just walks into the bar and doesn’t even let you talk to John.

John wiggles out of Thor's grip, getting off the chair and walking a few steps backwards. The broad man looks at him, grinning lightly but before he can react John lifts his hand and hits Thor across his face. The bodyguard's eyes widen and he walks a few steps back, looking with shock and confusion in his eyes at the smaller man.

“I’m sorry, John,” you mumble, earning just a soft smile and a shake of his head from the man. You don’t need to apologize for something you didn’t do. Thor just wants to step closer toward John when his phone buzzes. He reads whatever the other person wrote before he furrows, stares at John, then looks at you and smirks.

“He doesn’t like it when you make him jealous, you know that,” he mumbles, turning around and heading back to the lounge. You follow him with your eyes and then you see HIM.

Bucky Barnes, the man who still owns your heart, the one and only man for you. But also the one who hurt you and the one who scares other men away from you, making sure there is no one you can date when it’s not him.

-> Chapter Two

-> Asks, ideas, small Drabble ideas are appreciated! So feel free to reach out in case you have ideas or questions.

// Taglist //

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[femslash-february]

Welcome to Raptor’s Femslash February Bingo 2024!

Three different bingo cards—light prompts, darker prompts, a combined one with all prompts—to celebrate Femslash February with fanworks. All fandoms welcome! Enjoy!❤️

Rules and prompts in text form under the Read More!

Rules:

- When: all of February

- What: focus of your work should be a wlw / femslash / f/f ship, i.e. a ship with two or more female presenting characters, gender bending welcome

- any fandoms, any characters, any ships, any content (please tag appropriately)

- any fanworks—fics (no minimum or maximum wordcount!), art, poetry, moodboards... go wild! Tag #femslash feb bingo when posting it here on Tumblr so we can reblog

- AI-generated works are NOT allowed

- How: it’s totally chill, just do a single prompt or aim for bingo(s), whatever you want! You can get your bingos with one fic, with multiple fics, whatever you like! Choose one of the bingo cards and mark what prompts you're using.

- Crossposting with other events allowed

- most of all: have fun!

Prompts in text form

Light prompts:

Miscommunication

Bells

Reincarnation

Snowed in

Heaven

Princess / Queen

“I’m not going anywhere"

Anniversary

“Just trust me”

Sickfic

Secret identity

Break up

Post-Canon

Good intentions

Dream

“Hit me with your best shot”

Dark prompts:

Blood

Power imbalance

Enemies to lovers

“I don’t need you anymore”

Knives

Damaged

“I’d burn down the world for you”

Came back wrong

Betrayal

“I didn’t know who else to go to”

Hell

Thief

Nightmare

Unrequited

Obsession

Dying words

[zepskies]

NAVIGATION

Welcome to my little corner of the world!

About Me: Alex (she/her | 28) || Hopeless romantic, Dean Girl - EST 2014, Latina POC 🇨🇺🇵🇷🇩🇴☕️

Fandoms I currently write for: - Supernatural - The Boys - Big Sky - Tracker - Dark Angel - Smallville - 10 Inch Hero - Dawson’s Creek

Main Masterlist 📖

Writer's Room ✍🏽

Tag List 🔔

My tag lists are back open (for now)! Check out my Tag List Form here. You can also follow my fic library blog - @zepskieswrites - with notifications on so you never miss a new story.

Ask Me Stuff 💌

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED. I will only be accepting requests on Patreon. But please feel free to hit me up in my inbox with questions or comments about my work, about fandom and characters, creative writing, or even just life in general! 💜

Join Patreon 🌟

For early access to all of my stories, first sneak peeks and updates, bonus content, and more! Premium access patrons can also send me requests.~

(Bingo masterlists, podfics, podcast interviews I’ve done, writing questions answered, fic rec lists, what I do not write, and even more stuff below the cut):

Bingos

Jacklesverse Bingo 2024 Masterlist

Podfics

Stories that have been narrated in podcast form by Sandra, one of the lovely hosts of the Idling in the Impala podcast. Go here to check out the full YouTube playlist of podfics.

Podcast Interviews

September 24, 2024: Sandra and Kasey, the lovely hosts of @idlingintheimpalapodcast — the podcast for all things SPN and fanfiction — invited me on the pod for an interview…

We chatted about Dean Winchester and Jensen Ackles’ early roles, the best and worst seasons of SPN, the joys and pains of writing Soldier Boy, and much, much more.

For all the timestamps of key moments, fic recs, and SPN writer shoutouts, see this post (you'll find the link to the video there too).

About Writing

My thoughts on creative writing and fanfiction, the writing process, tips I've learned or been given, and questions people ask me.

Ways to Say I Love You

There Are Two Kinds of Writers: Architects & Adventurers

10 Top Favorite Romantic Comedy Movies

5 Tips to Stay Motivated to Write

5 Tips for Beating Writer's Block

Writing a Good Kiss/Romantic Scene

Where Do I Get My Writing Ideas?

Asking the "What If" Question & Developing Plot Ideas

How to Build a Tumblr Following (In My Experience) - 3 Tips

6 (More) Tips for Building a Tumblr Following (In My Experience)

What Does "Supporting Writers" Mean?

PSA on Tumblr Tags: Tag Lists & # Tags

4 Ways to Create a Tag List

Characters, Fandom & Fic Rec Lists

Why We Love The Boys: A Review of Supes Ain't Always Heroes

Tips on Writing Dean Winchester

3 Tips for Writing Soldier Boy (Ben)

Writing Angst with Soldier Boy (Ben)

Supernatural Fic Rec List

Dean Winchester AU Fic Rec List

Beau Arlen Fic Rec List

Soldier Boy Fic Rec List

August 2024 Fic Recs

**Author's Note

All 18+ content is labelled across my stories, as well as any dark themes or trigger warnings. So minors, please don't interact with those posts. Also, I do not read or write:

RPF (real person fiction)

Wincest

Non-con