#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.

[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:

[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

[evilwriter37]

Initiation

Rated: explicit

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, torture, blood, blood drinking, non-consensual kissing, non-consensual touching

Relationships: Viggo/Hiccup

Word Count: 5,016

Summary: A cabin in the mountains sounds like a fun, perfect get-away to Hiccup, but Viggo has something else planned, something much more sinister.

Created for @anyfandomdarkbingo.

Square filled: Hazing

[femslash-february]

Welcome to Raptor’s Femslash February Bingo 2025! Round 2: Electric Boogaloo

This year with four different prompt bingo cards—light prompts, dark prompts, spicy prompts, a combined one with all prompts—to celebrate Femslash February 2025. All fandoms, content and warnings 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

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. Interpret the prompts however you'd like.

Any fandoms, any characters, any ships, any content though please tag appropriately, any type of fanwork—fics (no minimum or maximum wordcount!), art, poetry, moodboards... go wild!

Tag #femslash feb bingo when posting it here on Tumblr and mention this blog so we see your posts and can reblog

AI-generated works are NOT allowed

Crossposting with other events allowed

Most of all: have fun!

Prompts in text form

Light prompts: Wilderness Accidental baby acquisition “Tell me again.” Meet ugly Body swap First kiss Mirror History Once in a lifetime “Who else but you?” Wrong number Opposites Token Curse Festival “I’ve been waiting a long time.”

Dark prompts:

“You could have died.” Last kiss Chains Before the fall Attic wife By a thousand cuts “Do you regret it?” Demon Fatal flaw Spite Poisoned Bad neighbors Hunting “And you thought I loved you.” Forbidden Mind control

Spicy prompts:

Begging Rope bondage Shower sex “Does that feel good?” Sex pollen Marking Blindfold Size Difference Breathplay “Stop distracting me.” Power Exchange Dirty Talk “Behave.” Orgasm Denial Praise kink Suspension

[bitchimasnake-sss]

Hiii could you please write a shanks x f reader who is virgin/not experienced? Thanks you💖

of course i can, guillotine-enjoyer! this is my comeback into the op fandom after a little bit of hiatus, so, i hope you like this filth mwuah mwuah

🍒a lil' hands-on session!

synopsis: seeing your incompetence, the captain of your ship offers to teach you some lessons. after all, experience is the best teacher, is it not? pairing: f!reader x shanks [implied age gap.] wc: 1.3k cw: nsfw includes: dirty talking, teasing, pet names (angel, sweetheart, pretty, baby and such), guided masturbation(f!), fingering, soft!dom shanks. NOT PROOFREAD. WRITTEN CAUSE I LOVE ME ONE (1) GOOD DILF! MDNI. m.list

"really?" and you knew that your captain wasn't trying to be an ass, knew that he was just curious — albeit, a little too curious.

it was hard not to allow a blush to creep up your cheeks when you repeated for the nth time, "no."

"you've not done anything?" shanks repeated, a certain gleam in his eyes at the way you squirmed under his casual scrutiny.

"no." hands folding across your chest, you slumped back in your seat as if to escape his heated gaze, "and what's it to you if i have or haven't?"

"nothing." the older man laughed, chasing the action with another sip from bottle full of alcohol. wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he shrugged, "it's just a bit weird."

you know what else was weird? this.

tucked away to one dark corner while the rest of the crew danced and sung around in a random party while discussing your virginity with your goddamn captain definitely wasn't on your bingo-card this lifetime, but here you were. weird, right?

"seriously?" you found a soft pout across your lips, looking at the man who's body was half-audacity and half-alcohol, "it's not weird. you're like a bajillion years old, so, it'll be weird if you didn't have any experience." you shrugged, bringing your own bottle of alcohol to your lips, "'m still young. i've got time."

"hm?" shanks cocked an eyebrow, experienced hands setting his bottle down on the wooden, creaking table. "i'm how old?"

warmth crawled up your face and you repeated slowly, "a... bajillion?"

shanks laughed at the slight waver in your voice, taking in your suddenly scarlet appearance, "did i scare young, little you?"

"no." you sipped the liquid again, trying to soothe your weirdly-parched throat with the volatile liquid, "don't flatter yourself. 's just the... alcohol."

"the alcohol's got you looking as red as a cherry, pretty?" and you nodded, scrunching your nose in retort, "it has. mind your own business, shanks."

you're not quite sure which part of "mind your own business" meant sitting on shanks' bed in shanks' room as he peered down at you far too late in the night.

the bridge of his nose was flushed red, eyes drooping down as he licked his lips.

"what do you know?" there was a slight slur in his speech, the kind that excited you when combined with the way his slow gaze drifted against your hot body.

"n-nothing." your thighs clenched shut, lips wobbling under his thick inspection.

"nothing at all?" and you swear you saw the slightest curl across his devilish lips at your small nod.

shanks dipped his face downwards, his skin smelling of cheap booze and bad decisions as he dragged his index across the soft slope of your cheek. his gaze held steady against yours, "do you want me to teach you?"

at your soft nod, shanks trailed the same hand down your cheeks to your collarbones. his eyes stayed on you, never once wavering. "have you ever done things... yourself?"

you shook your head, finding more confidence in your actions rather than your jelly-like words. and this time, he gave you a careful, cashmere smile, "want me to teach you?"

next you knew, shanks was nudging open your thighs, dragging your slick-soaked panties to the side far too easily. his hot breath fanned across your inner thigh, and your essence beaded out at his inspection.

you brought your thighs together, trying yet again to escape his filthy, filthy gaze, but he held your thighs apart with the same skilled hands. never once looking up at you, he breathed out, "don't run away, pretty."

his adept hand dragged yours down to your heat, guiding your thumb to swipe across the throbbing, neglected clit. the pad of your thumb collected the sweet nectar, and you shuddered at the soft touch.

shanks pulled his hand back to himself, looking at you transfixed as you experimentally swiped against the nub again, and then yet again. moments passed and you found a comfortable rhythm to coax an orgasm out of yourself.

as the touches become more natural, the circles grew sloppy against your sopping, desperate pussy. your back arched, the sensation building up in the pit of your stomach so fucking deliciously. your jaw slacked open, inaudible moans brewing in the back of your throat.

and at your actions, shanks groaned.

bringing up a steady hand up to your throat, he clasped your soft skin under his harsh palm. as shanks pressed down on your neck, your finger stuttered against your heat with the lack of air, "s-shanks."

"put your fingers inside."

your eyes widened, words twisting at his request, "i-inside?"

shanks nodded, bringing his own hand to play against your swollen nub with easy, calculated strokes. your back arched at the foreign touch, his fingers were so much rougher, so better experienced.

you slipped in a finger, followed by another. curling your digits against the velvet, you shivered at the way your gummy walls responded to the intrusion.

shanks was unyielding in his touches, never once leaving the swollen, fluttering clit and letting you breathe. no. he pressed down on your clit, fingers strumming against your heat.

the heat pooled out of your cunt, dripping down to his bed obscenely as your eyes rolled back. your hips rutted against your own palm, the friction drawing out pornographic mewls out of your wobbling, wet lips, "'m go-gonna cum. oh fuck—"

his swipes grew sloppy, no longer shapes or words but rather just primal, raw actions to make you come undone. you clenched your eyes shut, your back arching into the mattress at the way his and your touches made you combust and burn up from within. your stomach tightened, head growing lighter with each second, "—fu-fuck, fuck, fuck— ngh shanks-!"

"look at me." a gruff voice forced you back into reality. your captain hissed, a delirious look in his eyes to match yours, "fucking look at me as you cum."

"sh-shanks." your voice wavered, your fingers pistoning in and out of your addictive cunt as your body broke itself inwards. face flushed, hair growing matted against your skin, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lips, mewling out, "ngh— f-fuck, fuck it feels s'good."

"it does right?" shanks pressed forward, dipping his face against the crook of your neck. his stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin, and his breath stuttered out a falsetto as your muscles spasmed against your own hand.

shanks raised his face, locking his gaze against yours, "feel good, right?"

you nodded, already delirious and half-gone past mad, "i-it does. so, so s'good aah fu—"

one more drivel into your pathetic, fluttering pussy and you came undone with a needy moan of your captain's name, "s-shanks. i-fuck oh my god, ohmygo—"

"that's it." shanks cooed, his eyes burning up the lewd image of your flooding, sensitive folds against his hands, "that's it, baby. let it all out."

words barely coherent, your body spluttered and shivered until it steadied against the same head-board shanks had perched you against.

when you caught your breath, you met your captain's hungry gaze. a strong grip brought your limp hand to your lips, and shanks hummed wordlessly to suck off the remnants of honeydew splattered against your own digits.

wobbling, unsteady, you pushed the two fingers past your lips and sucked on them. your cheeks hollowed, eyes doe-like as you stared at your captain.

the older man snuck in a quick breath, huffing out a soft laugh at your antics, "you're a quick learner, aren't ya?"

you hummed against your skin, nodding so innocently as you let go with a pop! you licked your lips, staring up at the man, "got anything else to teach me?"

shanks laughed, the sound reverberating and setting your pleading cunt alight with need. the captain brought a steady hand to your flushed, warm cheeks, "think ya can handle it, angel?"

"uh huh." daringly, without ever once breaking the eye-contact, you caressed your hand against the obvious bulge in his pants, "not to mention, you're such a good teacher, cap'n."

"alright then." something in his gaze hardened, some unmasked desire ready to guide shanks to become your god, "on your fucking knees for me, sweetheart."

a/n: op fandom, i return with more filth! eat up well🤭 (okay, don't tell anyone but i'm trying to answer all asks asap. no promises though, okay?? so incase you sent one, hold on tight.) m.list

[spnbabe67]

Just a Note

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of a little spicyness, mentions of injuries

Summary: When you start receiving little notes around the Bunker, you go on a hunt trying to find your secret admirer.

Word Count: 1600

Authors Note: This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa for @kazsrm67. This also fulfills squares for @jacklesversebingo and @anyfandomgoesbingo Happy Holidays everyone!

Jacklesverse Bingo Prompt: Secret Admirer

Any Fandom Goes Bingo Prompt: Head Wound

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tag List: @zepskies @king-of-milf-lovers @king-of-milf-lovers

It started out as sticky notes placed strategically in places across the Bunker where only you would find them: on the mirror in your room, or on the stack of books you kept sequestered to a table in the corner of the library room. Various colors of square paper with little compliments, albeit a little awkward, scrawled across them. The first time you’d found one, a blue square tucked into the cubby where you kept your bug-out bag in the armory, you’d been caught off guard. The neon, stark against the muted brown and black and grey tones, had caught your eye as you went about replacing and checking the supplies you kept within your duffel. You plucked the paper from where it was nestled amongst the various weapons and supplies kept within, sitting in wait for the next hunt. As you gingerly pulled the sticky note from your bag, you noticed the scrawling words written across it in black ink. 

You look sharper than these knives.

Your head cocked to the side, face contorted into a mixture of confusion and amusement. Was that meant to be a compliment? More importantly, who was it from? Aside from yourself, Sam and Dean both took up permanent residence in the Men of Letters Bunker. Charlie, your childhood best friend and the person who introduced you to the Winchester brothers and the hunting world in general also lived here 90% of the time. It could be here playing one of her many pranks. A few other hunters used this place as refuge between hunts or came here for the endless trove of supernatural knowledge archived within its walls. You’d even convinced Dean, despite his best efforts to ignore your pleas, to host a couple seminars and training sessions for newer (and seasoned) hunters using the knowledge you and Sam spent hours upon hours organizing. 

“When I was first introduced to this world, I wish I’d had this kind of training available to me,” You’d reasoned with him one day in the kitchen. “I’d have a lot less scars and a lot less near death experiences if I had.”

The eldest Winchester, whom you’d grown close to in the months you’d worked with him, Sam, and the cabal of supernatural beings that they considered friends or at the very least occasional allies, leaned against the island with a mug of freshly brewed coffee in hand.

“I’m not sayin’ it’s a bad thing, Sweetheart.” Dean placated you, setting his mug on the counter. “All I’m sayin’ is that there’s more to it than just puttin’ flyers on the street. How would we even advertise somethin’ like this?” 

You shrugged. “You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

And figure it out he had. With the help of Charlie and Sam, the four of you managed to create a strategically worded ad, spreading it to known hunters who would even be remotely interested. It had spread like wildfire from there. So it was very possible one of the hunters passing through had put it in your bag. Even that explanation didn’t quite fit, but at the time it was a one-off, a fluke to never happen again.

That was until another one showed up. You’d taken a blow to the head when a rogue shifter slammed you back into a wall, knocking you unconscious. Blearily you opened your eyes to the dim light of the Bunker’s infirmary. A dull ache throbbed at the back of your head as you looked around. The room was kept mostly dark save for a lamp in the corner. I must have a concussion, you thought as you sat up, the crisp white sheets crumpled on your lap. You had reached over to check the clock on the table next to the bed when you saw yet another Post-it stuck to the top of it. The paper was red this time, but the writing held the same characteristics of the first one. 

You take my breath away.

Your eyes must have read the sentence a hundred times over, wracking your brain trying to figure out who in the Hell is leaving you these messages. Some rational part of you whispered there were really only two options. Sam or Dean. You knew it wasn’t Sam; your relationship with the younger brother was strictly familial. You’d never seen him as anything other than a younger brother, despite his protests that he was only 6 months younger than you. 

Dean on the other hand was a different story. Sometimes he acted like you were another younger sibling for him to be responsible for, other times the tension between the two of you could be cut with the dullest knife. Lingering eyes as the three of you changed between or after hunts, his fingers trailing over your hair and tucking it behind your ear when he assumed you were dead asleep. You’d be lying if he was the only one giving mixed signals. It made sense. To anyone who didn’t know him, Dean was a casanova, a womanizer who took what he wanted and offered nothing. And sure, maybe he was that way in his early 20’s, but life and the work of a hunter had taken a toll on him. So while you and Sam partook in one night stands, it was Dean who usually ended the night alone. 

You found the notes enduring, actually, and very in character for him. So from that moment in the infirmary, you compiled the notes and the occasional small gifts left for you. Once you were sure it was, in fact, Dean showering you in corny one liners and sweet nothings, you hatched a plan. You figured there were a couple ways to go about it. One: confront him head on, which he very well might deny all together in embarrassment. Two: let the notes continue to pile up, hopefully bottlenecking Dean into coming to you personally. Or three: beat him at his own game. Out of all of them, the third sounded the most fun.

Like a game of tag, the next time it was your turn to go on the supply run, you stopped by a Dollar Tree and grabbed a stack of Post-its. Unfortunately, they only had the plain and frankly ugly yellow ones, but they’d do. If you played your cards right, you shouldn’t need too many of them anyway. You snuck around the Bunker for nearly a week, leaving the Post-its in inconspicuous places as Dean had. The first one you’d left next to the decanter of water he kept by his bedside, calling him a tall drink of water. The next one was slid under his disassembled 1911 when he went to take a break. You giggled to yourself as you positioned it, reading the line you’d printed on it. Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

On the 7th day with no response from Dean, no change in behavior when the three (or four when Charlie came for dinner) of you went on hunts or stuck around the Bunker, you had started to lose hope. Maybe it was someone else and you’d read into the situation completely wrong. But something in your gut told you that you were barking up the right tree. Give it one last try, it seemed to say. So one last try it was. You’d know once and for all if it was Dean. You wrote the message that started it all on a sticky note, making sure Dean was in the kitchen before slinking off to the armory. All of you kept at least one bingo bag here, the main thing was finding which one was Dean’s. He kept his main pack in his room or in Baby’s trunk so it took some rooting around until you found the right one. 

Just as you unzipped the bag, poised to place the sticky note against the blade of one of Dean’s hunting knives, a voice called out your name from behind you. You froze, your lips pressing into a thin line as a small cheeky smile started to form. You stood up, turning around to see Dean leaning against the door jam.

“Whatcha doin’ Sweetheart?” He asked innocently, but his tone and the smug look on his face was anything but.

“Nothin’.” You mumbled, suddenly a little sheepish. The plan didn’t involve you getting caught red handed. “You weren't supposed to catch me.”

“Figured as much.” He joked, crossing the space between you, plucking the Post-it from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own in a way that made your heart flutter a little faster than it already was. 

“Asshole.” You huffed equally as teasing,watching him look at the sticky note, reading your chicken scratch. 

You were both silent as Dean’s eyes met yours, his cheeks tinged a bit pink. You were sure your own were as well as you suddenly felt the urge to hide from his observing gaze. 

“So,” Dean breathed. “What now?”

Ever the gentleman, you thought. Giving you the option to back out, to deny this thing between you both even though he’d quite literally caught you leaving a flirtatious note in his bag. You let your hand drift forward, hesitantly finding his own. You intertwined your fingers, feeling his callouses brush your own as you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I think now, you need to start sayin’ those things to me in person, not just on paper.” You gave him a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart.”

[mcytblrsource]

YEARLY MCYTBLR RECAP: 2024 EDITION

MCYTblr is a very large space if you see any missing events, exchange, or something else please send us an ask!

JANUARY

EVENTS:

FitPac Week Hermitcraft Rare Pair Week Wormman Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event MCYT T4T Week SpiderBit Week Treebark Title Swap MCYT Fanfiction Appreciation Week MCYT Physical Disability Week

ZINES AND MAPs:

Flamekeeper Zine Limited Life MAP Tribute to Jellie MAP

FEBRUARY

EVENTS:

MCYT Build Month Etoiles Week Fitpac Valentine's Drabble Fest Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Love Month Techza Week MCYT Yuri Week - Valentines Vylenix Week

GIFT EXCHANGES: (Based off of the beginning of posting period)

QSMP Secret Valentine QSMP Valentine's Gift Exchange MCYT Valentines MCYT Dead Dove Kink Meme Driving After Dark 2

ZINES AND MAPs:

Empires Rainbow Zine Convex Matryoshka MAP

MARCH

EVENTS:

QSMP Month Dream SMP Eras Event SMPLIVE Bingo Shubble Support Day QSMP Language Day Decked Out 2 Writing Challenge Week MCYT Aro Week Skizzleman Week SpiderBit Week Vitalasubzam Week Grumbo Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Themes Month MCYT Underdogs Event

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Recursive Dream SMP Rarepair Big Bang

ZINES AND MAPs:

Isla y Ovos Zine

APRIL

EVENTS:

Mumscarian Week The Bright Side of Life Series MCYT-Fem Slash Treebark Week Katecinda Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Angst Month

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Horror Gift Exchange

ZINES AND MAPs:

Hermitzine 8.5: April Fools edition The Minecraft Speedrunning Tarot Project Hermits Zine: Geminitay Edition Desert Duo Tongues and Teeth MAP

MAY

EVENTS:

Hermit-A-Day May HideDuo Kiss Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Duos Month! Fish Donna Week Hermitcraft Guess The Author QSMP AU Week

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Drabble Exchange

ZINES AND MAPs:

Hermit Coloring Book Mianite Zine

JUNE

EVENTS:

MCYT Omegaverse Month Voices For The Blade MCYT Trans Week Scarian Summer Smooch Fest MCYT Subversion Week Niki Nihachu Summer Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Pre-Canon Month

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Multilingual Big Bang

ZINES AND MAPs:

Boatem Village Zine Trafficzine Edition 5 Flowers in the Desert: A Desert Duo Zine

JULY

EVENTS:

MCYT Co-Create Event Gem Pearl Week MCYT Aspec Week Hot Scarian Summer RedScape Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Post-Canon Month fWhimmy Week HideDuo Week MCYTblr Fandom Crossover/AU event

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYTBLR AU Fest MCYT Fic Fight Driving After Dark 3 QSMP Big Bang

ZINES AND MAPs:

Petals of a Rose - Hideduo Zine Fairytales from the SMP: Volume II

AUGUST

EVENTS:

MCYT Musical Bingo Event QSMP Month(s) Hypnotizd ship week Skizz Week 2 FelPac week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Crack Month

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Summer of Yuri MCYT RPF KinkMeme

ZINES AND MAPs:

Chronicles: a QSMP Egg Zine MCYT Sapphic Zine Empiropedia Hotguy Comics Zine Hermitzine 9: H is for Hermitcraft Bread Hermitcraft MAP

SEPTEMBER

EVENTS:

MCYT Non-POV Event Your Cubito, Your Culture Event Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Places Month Sausage September

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYTblr Fluff Gift Exchange MCYT Jukebox Bonanza Event

ZINES AND MAPs:

Hermitcraft Season 9 Zine The Hermit Arcana The QSMP Story- Animation Collab

OCTOBER

EVENTS:

MCYT Aro Week 2 Weekly Hermitober + Life Series Spiderbit/Guapoduo Fluff or Fright Scarian Autumn Smooch Fest fWhimmy Week QSMP Halloween Fanworks Event Hideduo Trick or Treat Week ImpSkizztober GTWScartober2024 Rats SMPtober Hermittober Team Ranchers Week Weekly Hermittober Pisstober MCYT Femslash: Vampires VS Werewolves Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Limbo Month 7 Holy Nights of Jeremy

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Horror Gift Exchange 2 MCYT Yaoi Exchange MCYT Trick-Or-Treat MCYT Halloween Gift Exchange

NOVEMBER

EVENTS:

DoubleHearted-vember Sixteenth Day Event: Memory Month MCYT Fan Fundraiser: Art Showcase

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Prompt Exchange

ZINES AND MAPs:

The Reason is You Zine [SpiderBit]

DECEMBER

EVENTS:

QPR Kersuma Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Festive Month Bedrock Bros Prompt Months MCYT Christmas Prompt List Shadowrot Week Fuga4 Week Zedaph Week Felps Weekend Event MCYT Advent Solstice Social Collaborative Fanwork Event

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYTblr Holiday Exchange Rivals Duo Holiday Gift Exchange MCSR Mini Gift Exchange MCSR Winter Big Bang MCYT Playwriting Festival

ZINES AND MAPs:

Treebark Zine Coloring with Hermits The Heart of the Ouroboros - LifeSteal Zine Views of Hermitcraft 2025 Calendar Moonrot-Pearleo Zine Hermit Heartthrobs 2025 Calendar Morning Star Zine Double-Hearted : DDVAU Holiday Zine

[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!

Chapter Two ->

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.”

[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.

[buck-star]

Picking you up

Picking you up out of the dirt, when he finds you by yourself between the trash behind a restaurant. Why not trusting him and getting a nice home and the warmth you’re looking for?

Pairing: Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Bunny (BunnyHybrid!Fem!Reader)

Wordcount: 2.855 Words

Warnings/Tags: Dark content, violence, homelessness, talking about punishments, abusive past relationship

Authors Note: Lloyd and Bunny were already mentioned in “Realisation”. So thought they could be introduced. Thanks to @holylulusworld @thezombieprostitute for letting me share all the thoughts with you.

Events: Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Edition [O1 | “That’s it sweetheart” | @fandom-free-bingo], Fandom Free Bingo: Gingerbread Edition [Alternates 2 | Regretting a wish | @fandom-free-bingo]

Masterlist | Sweet side of darkness (SSOD) Masterlist

The sun slowly goes down behind the buildings of the city, the sky painted in a beautiful orange-red color. There aren’t many people around anymore; most of them are sitting at their homes, probably at the table, eating and talking to their families.

A soft whimper escapes your lips when you look over the street toward the house you’re admiring every day. The little boy just went inside with his dad, the mother preparing everything for the dinner, while the sister’s laugh matches the one of the little boy once they are home.

It’s long ago that you had a moment like that, long ago that you felt the warmth and love of a family. After your ex and you moved in together, your family distanced themselves further and further — it may have been because your ex-boyfriend made sure to keep you just for himself and tell you lies about your family.

However, once they didn’t care any longer, he humiliated you in front of everyone; he cheated on you before he threw you out and left you to yourself on the street.

Now you’re living between the trash in a dark alley behind a restaurant. At least you get enough food every day. But the loneliness clawing at you more and more, the want to belong somewhere, to be loved as the one you are — as the hybrid — you are getting more present the more you watch the families laughing and interacting so lovely and happy with one another.

It’s only when the backdoor of the restaurant swings open that you turn your head to look at the scene. Your bunny ears swinging slightly — they aren’t too long to annoy you, but long enough to swing with every move you’re doing.

A man is thrown out of the door, slamming into the wall of the house opposite. Your eyes widen, and you try to push yourself further into the corner of the garbage can and the wall of the house.

Another man follows out of the door; he’s wearing tight white pants and an even tighter shirt that defines his well-trained muscles in his chest. He has short brown hair and a moustache perfectly framing his top lip.

The man with the white pants grins, a low, dark chuckle leaving his lips as he takes another step into the dark alley and toward the man who’s still pressed into the wall. “Good to see you here, sunshine. Thought I had to look more in the underground to find you.”

You notice the white pants man pulling something out of the back of his pants — a knife. You shriek; your eyes go even wider when his head turns to you and he looks you up and down. You immediately press your hands on your mouth, your bunny ears covering half of your face. Maybe he will ignore you; maybe you can tell him that you haven’t seen anything, mayb—.

“I’m sorry, pumpkin. You’re going to have some fun with Kemp; he loves having fun with bad boys. I have to do more important things,” the man in the white pants says to the other man. His expression shifts when the name ‘Kemp’ slips past the white pants man.

“Think you can steal our hybrids and sell them yourself?” Another voice comes from the exit of the restaurant. You only listen to them, still covering your face with your ears. The man whose name is probably Kemp and the man in the white pants have obviously been trafficking with hybrids, and it makes your stomach drop.

White pants man has seen you; will he get you and sell you too? You curl yourself further together, pushing as much as you can into the corner, and maybe the man isn’t interested in you then. You’re a dirty, homeless hybrid; they couldn’t make much money with you, could they?

“Hi, little bunny,” a voice coos; to your surprise, it sounds soft, and you dare to move your ears a bit to the side to peek through them. In front of you is the man with the right white pants; he’s kneeling down, and a smile curls up his lips. A smile that doesn’t look as sadistic as it used to be as he walked out of the restaurant. “You’re a shy little bunny?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you whimper, your hands still covering your mouth so your voice is still a bit muffled. Lloyd almost groans when you call him that; you’re so obedient. He nods; a flash of possessiveness is visible in his eyes before his expression turns soft once more. “P-please, I haven’t… I won’t tell anyone, sir.”

“I know you won’t, bunny,” Lloyd says with a now darkish grin once more. You’re shivering, your bunny ears covering your face once more. The white pants man chuckles low in his throat.

Lloyd waits already a while for his perfect hybrid, a girl that’s obedient but a little slut for him. His housewife and fuck toy, someone he can come home to and doesn’t have to be just sadistic but can also wrap one in his arms and just enjoy a nice movie night.

“Please, sir. I will be good,” you whimper once more behind your ears and hands. Fear growing in your body, and it shows in your trembling form and your hiding behavior.

“I know you will. Bunny?” Lloyd asks, his voice softer again but with an edge of dominance. You’re wondering how he can switch from terrifying to sweet within seconds. But as long as he keeps his soft side with you, you don’t mind him, right?

When Lloyd notices your ears moving again and allowing you to peek through them, he chuckles softly. You’re his perfect little bunny, sweet and shy, obedient, and if you’re not a little slutty girl yet, he will turn you into one.

“Did someone train you, Bunny? You’re such an obedient little girl,” he continues, keeping a bit of distance between the two of you. You nod softly, and your ears swing softly, causing a soft chuckle to escape Lloyd's plump lips. “Yeah? Who trained you?”

“M-my ex. H-he… He said if I’m bad… h-he would put me in the basement,” you reply, recalling the memories from years back where he threatened you whenever you didn’t do as you were told. You quickly learned your place; the spankings were rare but better than the darkness in the basement you feared so much. He knew; that’s why he used it to his advantage. He used to put you in the basement until you begged him, until you kissed his feet as an apology for disobeying. “I-it was so dark and cold in the basement…”

It’s ironic; you’re now living in the street, no matter if it was wet and cold or sunny and warm. You find security between garbage cans, and the only light source is the lamps that turned out at some point.

“Aww, little bunny, scared of the dark. Whatcha doing out here at this time then?” Lloyd asks, looking around at all the trash. It looks like a little sleeping place where you’re sitting, between some pizza boxes.

“I—I…” you mumble, interrupting yourself. You feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Your ears twitch, but this time, before you can cover your face once more, Lloyd brings his calloused hand to them and pushes them out of your face. You whimper, trying to hide yourself, but he keeps them behind your head with one hand.

“You, what, bunny? Don’t hide yourself when you’re talking to me; that’s not polite, is it?” He asks, his voice low but still soft. His grip around your ears tightens a bit when you stay quiet. It doesn’t hurt or feel uncomfortable, but it’s enough to make a point that he’s in control.

“I sleep here,” you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. Lloyd nods; he knew it, but he wanted to hear it from you. Why else would a little bunny like you be in that dark alley between some garbage. And it underlines once more that you’re the perfect little girl for Lloyd.

Lloyd nods, getting up and turning his head to look at Steve and the other guy. Kemp has everything perfectly under control, the man pressed between him and the wall while he grins at him. Then, Lloyd turns back to you and grins. “Get up.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden demand and the change in his voice. The slightly soft edge in it is now the cold one he used before with the man. You back away, shaking your head slightly.

He narrows his eyes, the stare on you intense while the smirk fades from his lips. Lloyd reaches one of his calloused hands out to wrap it around both of your bunny ears and yank you up.

“I don’t like repeating myself,” he growls, the softness from before turned into a coldness. The grip around your ears tightens, and you whimper. “You were such a good little bunny, so why don’t you keep behaving like one for me, huh?”

“L-let go, please; I-it hurts,” you whine, keeping still to soothe the pain he’s causing with his tight grip around your ears. He chuckles, loosening his fingers a bit but holding your ears still firmly to make sure you obey.

Lloyd takes a step further into the dark alley and toward the other men, pulling you with him. You take a shaky step too, following him so he won’t pull your bunny ears again. You have the urge to stroke your ears, to make them feel better with soft touches, but you don’t dare to do anything Lloyd hasn’t asked for.

“S-sir,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. The man turns his head to you, looking down. You’re looking so small and vulnerable, your body shaking, and he growls low in his throat. He loves how tall and strong he is compared to you.

“Yes, bunny?” He asks, leading you further to the other men. Kemp has the other man still pressed against the wall but leans back and releases the other after a moment with a grin. You watch that man’s legs shaking and trying to steady himself with his hands against the wall behind him.

“Please, your grip is too tight around my bunny ears,” you say quietly, not wanting to upset Lloyd. He nods but doesn’t change his grip around your ears. He pulls you further through the dark alley. Your smaller steps cause him to pull your ears further; it almost looks like he enjoys your little cries and begs for him to release your bunny ears.

Lloyd stops next to Steve and the other man, pulling you to his side. He lets go of your ears, and you immediately back away from him. The man rolls his eyes, shaking his head slightly before he turns his attention back to Steve. “And?”

“He doesn’t want to talk… insisting on not having tried to steal our hybrids,” Steve answers, his hand firmly wrapped around the other man’s throat. Lloyd groans in annoyance, then he nods slowly. “Want to take him there? And the bunny too?”

“No, the bunny comes with me. But you,” Lloyd says with a sadistic smirk on his plump lips. He feels almost a bit disappointed that he misses the punishment of the man who tried to betray them, but he found you, his cute bunny, and he wants to take you home more than punishing that man. “You will have lots of fun with Steve. He will have lots of fun with our betrayer, won’t you, Kemp?”

Lloyd turns around to look through the dark alley, his eyes scanning every little inch of it. He rolls his eyes. You really think you can hide from him. With a nod he walks through the darkness, a sarcastic grin on his face the further he walks through it.

“Come out, come out, little bunny,” he says, his voice low as he looks at the place he first found you. But there’s no hint of you. Lloyd groans, frustrated; he doesn’t mind a good little game, but right now he’s not in a mood for that. “I’m gonna find you, and you won’t like it then. So you better come out now, bunny.”

There’s still no hint that you’re still in that alley, but luckily for him, you walked in the direction where a wall comes. So you can’t escape him even if he has to rummage through all the trash to find you — he will.

“I’m gonna count to three, and you better thank me for being so patient with your little disobedient ass, bunny,” Lloyd growls darkly, stepping further through the alley. He’s feeling satisfied that you disobey; as much as he loves your obedience, he loves the thought of training you even more. “One.”

He keeps walking; his steps echo through the darkness. You flinch with every thud of his expensive shoes. You push yourself further into the corner you are in, curling yourself together while you listen to his steps.

“Two, bunny,” he says loudly; there’s a hint of amusement in his voice, but you don’t trust it. He was sweet earlier, and then he turned mean; he can change his voice, but he’s still mean.

Lloyd’s steps get closer, but to your relief, he walks past where you’re hiding. A soft sigh escapes your lips, and you lean back a bit. You keep listening to him, waiting for him to walk further so you can get out of your hiding spot and run.

“Three,” he says, his voice suddenly so close, and you shriek when his face appears in front of yours. His blue eyes glistening with amusement as he reaches out to grab you — to your surprise — softly by your shoulder and pulls you out of the trash. “There you are, bunny.”

“P-please don’t hurt me,” you whimper, freezing in your spot when you notice his eyes wandering over your face. He takes in every little detail, enjoying himself. You’re shivering, and your legs shake so much that you feel like they give in and you fall down, but Lloyd wraps one of his thick arms around your waist and pulls you close to his chest.

His scent is sweet, still manly, and you feel yourself leaning into him a bit more. Lloyd smirked, his expression turning more soft again, and while he holds you close, he brings his other hand to your side, running it up and down.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, bunny,” he replies softly. ‘Not yet at least.’ Lloyd adds in his mind. He feels your nod against his broad chest, and he starts walking with you close to him back to the restaurant to get out home. “I just want you to be good, my obedient little bunny.”

You nod once more, pushing yourself further into Lloyd’s side while you walk toward where Kemp is still standing. He grins at you, nodding toward Lloyd as he grabs the other man — you don’t know about, except that he stole hybrids — by his neck and pushes him into the restaurant.

Lloyd leads you to the exit as well, stopping just before you walk in. “You have to be good now, bunny. Stay by my side and look down, get me?”

“Y-yes sir,” you mumble and look down. Lloyd smiles, satisfied with you obeying him, and takes your smaller hand in his. Then he pulls you with him into the restaurant. You hear some gasps, feel some eyes on you, but you do as you’re told and keep looking down. You squeeze Lloyd's hand until he strokes his thumb over the back of your hand to calm you down.

The walk through the restaurant isn’t too long, but with all eyes on you, you feel like it’s going on and on while you’re like a trophy. When you finally reach the door, you notice two big SUVs in front; your mouth drops open, and you look up to have a better look.

“That makes it two,” Lloyd says more to himself than to you. He pulls you to one of the cars, opening the back door for you to get in. “That’s going to be fun, my little bunny, a good old punishment for the disobedient little bunny you are.”

With that, he shuts the door of the car, and you notice a clicking. The door is locked, and there is no escape for you from that man anymore. You shiver; your eyes widen as you watch him get into the driver's seat. That sadistic smile back on his face when he sighs in satisfaction.

“No more disobedience, or I need to teach you manners. And you already deserve a good punishment for running from me and for lifting your head when I told you not to, didn’t I, bunny?” He asks, even though it wasn’t really an ask; it was more a statement. Lloyd leans further back in his seat and starts the engine, tuning in the music and humming softly to it.

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @blackhawkfanatic @hisredheadedgoddess28 [add yourself]

[ironwoman359]

I believe you’ve said you are no longer in the Sanders Sides Fandom anymore so feel free to ignore this. I have fallen back into the fandom and was wondering if you had any good fic recommendations? I know you’ve written some too. I’m not sure what types I want but I do enjoy whump, hurt/comfort, found family, and angst. Thanks in advance.

So, my entire Sanders Sides masterlist is here, but I can give you some specific recs of mine that fit that vibe!

A Fiendly Reunion is a canonverse multi-chapter whump/hurt-comfort fic in which the dark sides kidnap Virgil post SvS:Redux, and Thomas and the light sides venture into the dark side of the mindscape to rescue him.

We Blankly Stare is a 3-chapter whump fantasy story in which a naga Janus is kept as a pet who is rescued by the other sides. (and if whump is your thing, this whole list here is of responses to a Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt card)

Replicated is a whumpy science fiction story done through an interactive ask blog I run called @ts-replicated-au. In it, Thomas discovers that his DNA has been used to make test subjects in a massive facility that does all kinds of unethical experiments on human clones. The story is on indefinite hiatus right now but I've always wanted to return to it and at least complete the Escape Arc of the story.

Other authors I'd recommend (though several, like myself, ALSO don't write much for the fandom anymore):

@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors, whose work ranges from the sweetest fluff to the sharpest angst and whom I adore with my whole heart (and who DOES still write for the fandom, just uploaded a massive chapter to a very angsty time loop story, Violet is incredible seriously)

@delimeful who tells wonderful fantasy and sci-fi stories, many of which make my h/c heart oh so happy

@asofterfan's punk au has some of the most heartfelt writing I've ever read, and also some incredible artwork (one of their pieces inspired me to write a whump fic that to this day is one of my most popular on both tumblr and AO3, Broken Wings )

@random-snippets, which is the writing blog of @randomslasher, a dear friend and excellent writer who from what I recall was the first fic author I ever read whump from who called it whump, thus giving me a great new term to put into this website's terrible search feature.

There are so many others who deserve a look, and so many now who I'm sure are making new and fresh Sanders Sides content that I'm not aware of, so anyone who's got any good recs for anon, drop them in the notes!

[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)