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practicecourts · 25 days ago

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December Jily Challenge Bingo list

Loveliest Tumblr friends, I've got one big full @jilychallenge December bingocard for you, and it's not even extensive, so many other amazing holiday fics that I could swap these for. So feel free to add to this bingo card or share your own!

Some are old, some are new, most are jilychallenges, some are not, some fit the prompt better than others, but they are all lovely and full of winter holiday vibes.

Buying presents:

You Two Are Dancing in a Snow Globe Round and Round - tinyluminaryzombie - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @tinyluminaryzombie

light up the static sky - charmingwillow - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @charmingwillow

Fireworks

even brighter than the moon - ginemrys - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @ginemrys

Find me waiting for you under the mistletoe

Mistletoe Mishaps - Chapter 1 - AnnaBtG - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] - @annabtg

Snowball fight

Midnight Train To London - TedwardRemus - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @tedwardremus

Do You Want To Build A Snowman? - Practicecourts - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

Teaming Up - Joyseuphoria - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @joyseuphoria

There's only one tree left

You Need to Branch Out - charmsandtealeaves - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @charmsandtealeaves

Christmas cards

I deserve the truth - Nena96 - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @nena-96

KISS ME BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR

new year's eve don't fuck around - theesteemedladydebourgh - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @theesteemedladydebourgh

Yule Ball

meet me in the afterglow - koalasmiles - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @savannah-5555

There's only one bed

It's Coming Down, It's Coming Down - ritaskeetered - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @wearingaberetinparis

baby, it's cold outside - ohmygodshesinsane - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @ohmygodshesinsane The longest night of the year

Midwinter Magic - Practicecourts - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

Ugly Sweater contest

Heart On Her Sleeve - catj101 - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @booksarelife-stuff

Working (late) on a holiday

Resolutely Lily - Sapphire16 - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @sapphire1616

Taking A Shot At You - AnnaBtG - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @annabtg

Jily in every universe

can this be a real thing, can it? - Zephyrcove - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] by @zephyrcove

In Need of a Christmas Miracle - charmsandtealeaves - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] by @charmsandtealeaves

Jily Challenges | Archive of Our Own

Snow Cherubs & Delayed Deer - YouBlitheringIdiot - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] by @blitheringmcgonagall

Happy Holidays, You Filthy Potters - itsjamespotter - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] by @jamesunderwater

added because HOW COULD I FORGET TO ADD THIS ONE? JILY IN EVERY UNIVERSE by @maluceh

nutmeg, Cinnamon and Orangepeel

Moodboard Family Traditions - orphan_account - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

Hot chocolate

Underneath the Tree - Chapter 1 - womeninthesequel - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @women-inthe-sequel

DInner with the INLaws/ meeting the parents

Home for the Holidays - lightningthief - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @notorious-lightning-thief

Ice Skating lessons

Skating on Thin Ice - Chie (Chierafied) - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @chierafied

Slugclub's Infamous Christmas Party

Hair - scriibblehere - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @scriibble-fics

Harry's first Christmas

The Candle Of Hope - AnnaBtG - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @annabtg

Choices and Consequences II - sweeetbabe - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @sweeethinny

Scarves and mittens

Snow Magic - Practicecourts - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own]

Lucky Charm - EastWindmlk - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @eastwindmlk

Lights

Starlight - Elastic_Heart31 - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @suzyq31

Aurora - Chie (Chierafied) - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @chierafied

Secret Santa gone wrong

A Greyhound Bus Christmas - PetalsTheFish, gryffindormischief - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @petalsthefish & @gryffindormischief

The Naughty List - abihastastybeans - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @abihastastybeans

spiked eggnog

Snow Globe - Chapter 1 - charmsandtealeaves - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @charmsandtealeaves

Hugging just for Warmth

I've Got My Hate to Keep Me Warm - Dizzy_Bird - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @dizzy--bird

Coming Home for the holidays

One Kiss at Midnight - EastWindmlk - Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling [Archive of Our Own] @eastwindmlk

All I Want For Christmas is You by @thejilyship (a last minute addition but so very very fitting with the prompt ;-)

#I could get another full card #probably #jilychallenge bingo #jily fic recs #jily winter holiday vibes #jilychallenge #jily challenge fics #jily fics #hp fanfiction #fic recs #BINGO

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heli0s-writes · 11 months ago

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Sweet

A/n: You know how sometimes when you’re having a breakdown and nothing is helping but then something completely unrelated and stupid just does it for no reason. This is that. With pot brownies and kissing. Bucky is recovering and reader is an moron with a heart of gold. Angst, hurt/comfort, humor. Reader/Bucky. 3k words Warnings: Marijuana use; conversations about trauma, particularly food-related; language.

The path leading away from the cabin is littered with wet patches of morning. Rime colors of miserable winter in sludge grey are starting to be overtaken by sprouts of green, yellow, and brisk dew, springtime optimism come to life.

Pepper’s got the front of her house looking like a farmer’s market flower stand. Pots of tulips and daffodils explode up the steps and tri-color ribbons connecting porch-light to porch-light. The magnolia tree is soon to bud, and she’s hung hummingbird feeders and birdhouses all around.

When the cars start rolling in for the quarter-yearly potluck, you hang out near the garden, rocking back and forth on your feet. You'd shown up early but didn’t know what to do around a toddler, so outside it was.

The familiar Range Rover halts to a stop, Sam’s door opening as he makes his way out, holding ceramic handles of an enormous crockpot.

You call, “Bring your famous chili?”

“Damn right, I did,” he beams, “you bring your appetite?”

You waggle your eyebrows before looking to the SUV he hopped out of, Steve lingering by the back door with a brown paper box tucked beneath his arm, knocking on the heavily tinted windows with a long-suffering sigh. “C’mon, Buck. Up and at ‘em.”

A loud, decisive knock thumps back at him and Steve rolls his big, pitiful, puppy dog eyes in your direction. Beneath the blue of his left orbital is what looks suspiciously like the fading ochre stain of either an almost healed bruise or a newly forming one, which only makes Steve’s silent call for aid more pathetic and urgent.

Damn, okay. Since you’re kind of on thin ice already, this could go one of two ways.

Sliding up, you crack your knuckles.

“Barnes,” you call, “I got something illegal for you. Wanna see?”

“Dead body.” He responds from behind the still shut door, and you’re not sure if that’s a question. Steve glares at you accusatory, as if you’d actually bring a dead body to a potluck, good grief.

“Uh, no.”

“Knife.”

Steve shoots you another look—which is just ridiculous at this point, the both of them.

“Knives aren’t illegal.”

“Depends.”

Steve shifts the box of what looks to be cherry turnovers and mouths phrase day, which means that Barnes decided to stop talking in complete sentences sometime between when he woke up and probably when Steve over-crowded him and is now reducing all communication to two or three words as both a method of punishment for Steve and self-preservation for Barnes.

“It’ll make you feel better,” you urge, “Loads better.”

“Sex.” He rolls down the window just enough for you to get a glimpse of his eyes, narrowed and steely. “Drugs?”

You mouth bingo, outrightly ignoring the fact that it feels like Bucky Barnes nearly solicited you for sex, and Steve puts his hand over his own face, about to quip until he realizes that he’s probably said too much already—which is what got him in this predicament to begin with—and simply drags himself toward the house.

Barnes watches him go wordlessly before he opens the door and steps out, looking down at you, lightly shivering in the cold, and says, still one-worded, “Okay.”

He pops three brownies into his mouth and chews, opening just enough to get out a muffled, “too sweet” before returning to grinding down like he’s cracking pecan shells in there.

“I know you have like,” you make panicked motions with your fingers, snapping the red Tupperware lid back down frantically, “hella metabolism, but pump the brakes or you’re going to flip.”

“Flip,” he concludes, determined. He squirrels about two more in before you can do anything about it.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I was going to let you take those home later—oh my god, I’m going to get into so much trouble.”

The two of you are stopped at one of those cutesy stone birdbaths around the perimeter, leaning on the lip as Barnes licks remaining chocolate off his fingers, looking as pleased as punch. As much as he can look, anyway, you think, since you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him smile at anything other than the time Steve stubbed his toe bad enough on Tony’s kitchen island that he doubled over.

“Did you say sex earlier?” You suddenly remember the flash of silver from the darkness of the SUV. “Wait, actually, I wanna go back even before that—did you really think I’d have a dead body?”

He shrugs.

“Cool,” you reply, “cool, cool, cool, cool. I think I should be more concerned, but you know what, I like it. Feels like a vote of confidence.”

A wide grin stretches across your face and you temporarily forget that Bucky fucking Barnes has eaten about half a pan of brownies with 25 grams of pot baked into them, that in about 15 minutes you’re both expected to sit down like normal people and have a nice dinner without anyone doing… whatever it is that he might do when he’s blazed to high heaven.

You shake the thought of Steve’s disappointment out of your head. Maybe it’d be best to keep acting natural, get him into some kind of headspace.

“So,” you whistle, “what’d you bring to the potluck?”

He gives you a sidelong stare and if there were Olympics for how someone can convey eat shit and die without moving anything but their eyes, he’d win every 8 years for the rest of his unnaturally long life.

“Well, I brought myself,” you curtsy, starting back down the trail again, figuring that you’ve got five minutes walking forward before it’d be time to turn back to the house, “and your present,” to which he gives you a short nod, “and an empty stomach. You excited for Sam’s chili?”

“Spicy.”

“Spicy?” you recoil, suddenly finding the prospect of a man who gave Captain America a black eye last week or possibly this morning—the monster who ate half of your most lethal bake—panting and sweating over a bowl of chili astoundingly inconceivable.

“Oh wait, you live with Rogers. What’s he feeding you at home? Steamed chicken?”

“Baked.”

You sigh, “God, you’re fucked. Nat brought something with Carolina Reaper infused honey glaze. Barnes... we’ll have to do a prayer circle for your ass.”

His face twists into a look of disgust before he starts to notice his lips, pressing them together, pulling them apart. After a few more motions like he’s discovering his body, bit by bit, he turns to you, and announces, “Feeling it.”

You laugh, jealous, because although you had a bite about 30 minutes before he even arrived, the brownie hasn’t hit you yet. “Good,” you say anyway, “that’s good, right?”

He only apathetically regards a sparrow flying past. You suppress a chortle when Barnes repeatedly licks his lips and rubs at the sleeves of his sweater.

“Have you ever been high before?” You correct, “In the fun, recreational, consensual way?”

Another listless shrug before he turns his head. You push yourself off a nearby log and make a show of stomping through haphazard piles of sticks and dead leaves, curling your fingers in a come along motion.

He follows, boots crunching, steps short and patternless, making a racket behind your back. He looks like a kid, fingers tucked up into his long sleeves, bouncy knees as he attempts to splash into every puddle as he possibly can before catching up. He’s almost got a grin when he looks at you, remembering where he is again, and there’s a light brush of color along the tops of his cheeks from the chill.

Around a small bend in the path, you duck under a branch, hop over a stone, and when you land back on both feet, the ground wobbles just enough to notice.

The air smells nice. Your eyelids feel heavy in a good way.

“Steve really piss you off this morning, didn’t he?”

Barnes lands a couple of feet away, his face dropping into an exhausted expression at the question, which you can’t fault him for because Steve’s a lot of things. Simple things, on the surface, but Barnes has known him longer than most anyone else and you imagine all of his noble qualities—his longstanding patience and willpower and belief in the goodness in everything and everyone—you imagine that shit gets old.

Hell, it gets at you on occasion, and you’re not even the brainwashed best friend who’s probably hearing a hundred voices in his head and is too tired to hear one more no matter how well-intentioned it might be.

Sometimes, being inundated by language just breaks it all back into foreign, incomprehensible script. And sometimes, being exceedingly plied with something you can’t make any sense of makes you turn inward, makes you bare your teeth in self-defense.

Which makes you realize you probably should ease up, too, talk less, but then he takes a long step with his ridiculous legs and is by your side, walking as if you two do this all the time.

“He’s a fixer.” Bucky’s brows are scrunched together, hands buried in his pockets. You nod quickly, not wanting him to go into any more detail than that because it’s not news that the entire population is still wary of Bucky Barnes’ re-emergence as a United States citizen when he was, up until very recently, a—uh, Russian one.

This, obviously, puts many things at odds with each other, including Steve, who is Mr. United States himself. The Avengers, too, who are mostly Team United States, considering the location and overwhelming population. But most of all, Bucky, who is still cobbling together bits and pieces of his life each day, is faced with the knowledge that everyone in the world knows more about him than he does.

You rub the back of your neck sympathetically because that shit would kill your heart so fast.

“You know what.” You shake the Tupperware at him, “Have the rest of these. You deserve it. And like, a million hugs.”

He barks a laugh, gladly gulps down the rest, and there’s a dapple of fudge on his chin looking so silly and sweet as he chews.

Ah, shoot. You avert your gaze, feeling very bad ideas break out up your arms and neck, and the shudder that is about to overtake you seems less about Barnes’ sweet face and more about Steve’s disappointed one. Like, he’s going to read your mind and know you’re having ideas about his best friend. And he’s going to do that thing where his eyebrows drop and his lips press together as he attempts to hold back a few choice words. Until later, probably, when he corners you somewhere and unleashes them anyway.

What were you thinking?, he’ll hiss. Are you capable of thinking rationally?

“What?” Barnes prods. “What is it?”

“Nothin’” you take a leap forward, herding the both of you back. The closer you are to the cabin the more you’ll remember that you’re at a family event, with friends, who should all stay in the friend territory.

But you blurt anyway, “You said sex earlier!” Because you’re a whole ass idiot.

He makes a small noise, says, “Yeah,” like that’s any help.

“Are you…” what the fuck, your head is spinning, “like, in… need of some?” Your face feels hot.

“Maybe. My body is…” he frowns, so weirdly open right now, and then he looks at you with half is face in a weary grin, the other half lost and confused. “Responding to stimuli in ways I haven’t— responded to in... Trying to fix it. Steve wants me to be fixed.”

He tilts his face to the sky, glaring at it. “Can’t get it out.”

You’re trying to force your rabbiting heart down to a manageable pace. You’ve never had any in-depth discussions with him about anything, much less his sex drive. The most interaction the two of you get is the occasional mission or get-together where you crack jokes and get shitfaced when the job’s done. You’ve been told you’re sort of a pain and haven’t given a fuck too much to change that.

You’re sort of in trouble right now, having been “irrational” during the last mission, running across the iced lake instead of taking the planned route and falling in. It ended up working out, since you got to the enemy helicopter before the enemies, but then there was the stabbing because you were sort of outnumbered and the pneumonia afterwards because you fell into the fucking lake…

There was a massive chewing out. Steve and his many, disappointed words.

Something about motor-mouths and low-object permanence but sure, good on the inside when it counts.

You hope this is one of those times where it counts.

“Listen,” you start. “Take as long as you need, there’s no rush on recovery and pushing yourself too hard is detrimental to your health. It’s not a straight line.”

“I hit him.”

Your wheeling brain is making a sharp left, trying to figure out where Barnes is driving toward. Oh. The black eye.

“Aw, Steve?” You wave your hand, swatting nothing. “He’s a big boy.”

“I’m hungry. Then I’m not.”

“I mean, that sounds normal—“

“No, a lot. Fast. Cyclical. Endless.”

It must be his metabolism adjusting. The realization of his relationship with food comes fast, almost visceral. Scarce when he was young, then rationed during the war before it was taken from him altogether. He was given the bare minimum with Hydra—protein slurry, tube-fed—then purged—stomach pumped—before being put on ice.

For decades.

Starvation must have truly felt endless.

And now with food being a surplus, with his body readjusting to it, yet his mind still struggling with habits—it must be so confusing. Another seemingly natural function to be confused about.

“Ah,” you manage, a lump in your throat like a blockade.

“I get nightmares.” He’s glaring at his hands, one flesh, one metal, opening and closing his fist like trying to get a grip on himself, and his voice is so small and pained. “These thoughts. All sorts. Can’t sleep.”

You extend your hands, shake off the dry sob that wants to erupt from your chest, and declare with flourish, “On the fourth day, God made Purple Kush, and it was good. So, we can—we can fix that.”

He takes another one of those long looks, through his lashes, lips quirked in quiet humor.

“You’re not really a fixer.”

He shakes the container of crumbs in your face.

You gasp, snatching it back in offense. “I can fix… some things! I replaced the utility light in the kitchen yesterday!“

Your cheeks are hot, face twitching like a broken screen because all you can think about is how handsome he is, out here like this, nose blushing, eyes lazy and crescent shaped, the heavy creases beneath them less pained and more relaxed.

And how he’s teasing you—- and he’s kind of a little shit.

“You fucker,” you say.

He grins—all big and silent, and for a second you count your blessings that he’s not going to say anything else shitty until he quips, “Not unless you’re offering.”

He’s staring at you intently, a curious expression winding its way up his face. His eyes are huge and blue and the most alert, glazed-over, pair of bloodshot, redder-than-the-devil’s-dick eyes you’ve ever seen on anyone stoned halfway to the moon.

His tongue darts out, sweeps a slow, careful line over the width of his bottom lip, practically asking, and you’re just the simple idiot who openly gawks at him.

“Ah,” you nod. “Yeah you’re definitely right. I’m—“ you gulp, “more of a fuck-up.”

Because what’s another fuck up to add onto the long-running list of fuck ups you’ve had recently, anyway? Kissing Barnes might count as a really serious one, sure, but at least it’s not pneumonia.

It’d make him feel better, probably, it’d make him feel something, at least. Steve would appreciate that, if Barnes came to the dinner table verbal, maybe even laughing. No one has to tell Steve that his best pal kissed your face off in the woods.

The idea of your face being kissed off is doing a number on you. The idea of Bucky Barnes, this gorgeous, miserable, godly, tragic contradiction, your at-arm’s-length teammate, your quickly-becoming friend, kissing your face off because he needs to feel something soft in the midst of the rest of the horrible, jagged things he already feels every second of his life—and he can get it from you.

You’re stupid and simple and how could anyone say no to that? So you take one last second to steel your heart, push forward, and lean in.

It’s, frankly, bizarre.

He kisses you gently, fantastically, inconsistently, wavering from assured one second to apprehensive the next, like he remembers how but can’t quite execute.

You meet him where you can, respond to the parting of his lips with your own, adjust to his tension with grace, and when he starts feeling like he’s getting the hang of it, like muscle memory has finally settled into his body, you let him lead.

One hand finds the base of your skull, the other placing itself on your waist. His kisses grow greedy, like he remembers desire is a thing that occurs to him. He tilts his head down, kisses up like he wants to swallow every sigh between your lips, like he’s hungry for the sounds you make—and you’re making, embarrassingly, a lot of them. He’s good—dominant but kind, mouth wide, lips full, tongue cocoa-sweet and clever as it strokes yours again and again.

When he backs you up into a tree, you barely register it. His hand has moved to cushion your head, and he’s urging his entire body forward into yours, grip tight at your hipbone, moving his mouth to your jaw, then your neck, and you stutter a string of letters that refuse to make words.

Barnes is expertly sucking marks beneath your collar, right beneath the neckline, his breath hot and coming out in a near snarl and when he scrapes his teeth down, sinking them into the soft skin of your chest, you yelp loud enough to send a few birds scattering from the trees.

He jumps off like he’s burned you, eyes frantic, afraid.

“No—” you clear your throat, hands out, “Hold on.”

He’s blinking, head clearing, head trying to assess what he’s done, the situation, the pulled loose neckline, the wet shine of his spit up your throat.

“S-sorry—”

“No, don’t be sorry.” You give him his distance but take a small step forward. “That was hot. But,”

He blinks, confused, and this whole thing could easily go pear-shaped, your well-intentioned explanation might turn into unintelligible speech at any moment, but you have to try or else he’ll tailspin into catastrophe, and you suddenly feel so sorry for Steve, the poor fuck who’s doing this every day, clinging onto the hope that what he’s saying doesn’t set Bucky off, doesn’t push his boulder back downhill.

He's still stuttering sorry, starting to pace.

“Listen,” you say firmly, clipping your own panic, “that was wow, let me tell you. But if you don’t stop, I’m going to like— hotwire a car.”

Somehow this stops him in his tracks, “What?”

“Well, I didn’t drive here. Because you know, I was going to like, get really shitfaced.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and like, take you to a hotel or something.”

He frowns, obviously completely lost. “Why?”

It’s your turn to be lost. Both of you open-mouthed and panting at each other like two dumb dogs chasing each others’ tail in an ouroboros of idiocy.

“Huh? What do you mean why? You just tongue-fucked me, do you think I’m immune to getting on my knees for that?”

Now you can see it happening—the incomprehensible speech like a marquee as it runs across Barnes’ brain. Tongue-fuck, immune to getting on my knees. He doesn’t understand any of that, and god bless any soul who can. What language are you even speaking right now other than hot-brained, hot-skinned, hot-hearted to him, who’s still struggling to defrost?

“Never mind,” you redact, “ignore that.” You put your hands on his shoulders to ground yourself, vaguely thinking that maybe you shouldn’t touch him but the firm slap of your palms seems to break him out of his new trance. “Can we kiss again, later?”

He blinks, staring at you, at your hands on him, at your lips all swollen up.

“Yes.”

You sigh, relieved and thankful that other than you, no one’s freaking out, that your plan to get Bucky Barnes high worked out after all, and that he has agreed to make out later because he’s really, really good at it.

“Wonderful. Let’s go back now? Are you ready?”

He mulls it over and shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. “Sure, but I’m not eating chili.”

“Well, you’re in luck, there’s plenty of chicken.”

He grimaces, cuts a sharp look up to you before a twinkle settles in his blue, blue eyes. “Okay,” he agrees, “guess we should do a prayer circle for my ass.”

You clap your hands together and recite Our Father.

“It was sex, wasn’t it?”

Sam’s got one hand over his belly, snickering. Everyone else looks your way, gullible, scandalized, and you can’t blame them since the two of you were gone an awfully long time and came back extremely disheveled.

Bucky had walked in dutifully behind you, wiped off his boots, sat down at the dinner table, and asked for seconds saying please and thank you and he even threw in a that was delicious just to watch Steve’s head explode.

And Bucky, who you’ve come to realize is genuinely a shit— still one-worded and knowing full well the repercussions of his one word— only shrugs and responds, “Yes.”

The room erupts into shouting as you throw a buttered roll at his head. He catches it easily and brings it up to his grinning mouth, shimmer of spit glossy and fantastic on his lips.

#reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes/reader #reader insert #fanfiction #mcu #hurt/comfort #angst #humor

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zarnzarn · 4 months ago

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I GOT A DREAMLING BINGO CARD!!!!!! This one is E4: Uniform fetish. It is explicit.

@dreamlingbingo

"And who might you be searching for?" The waitress says politely, which is when Dream realizes his mistake. It's been at least twelve years since he last saw his lover, time travelling differently at the bottom of the deep sea. He'd come to London as fast as he could, only to be met with hostility and shouting from Hob's old friends for what must have looked like a second abandonment to them, and a complete lack of address as to where his lover had shifted to.

Dream had gone back to the library and tracked Hob down, trying not to snap at Lucienne, and then quickly transported himself to New York.

But his mistake. Was not slowing down enough to read what Hob was calling himself.

"A brunette man, around his thirties," He tries anyway. "Tall, favours brown clothing, warm eyes-"

"Whoa, slow down, loverboy," The waitress says, putting her hands up. "We don't have any men working here."

Dream's brow creases. "What?"

"Yeah, dude, I don't know what to tell you," She shrugs, looking around. "What's his name?"

"I was told he works here," He snaps. He has perhaps spent a tad too long amongst the creatures made to kill at the first movement down in the lonely abyss. "I'm sure of it."

"I-" The waitress sighs, rubbing at her forehead, then suddenly straightens up, eyes wide. "Hang on. Hang the fuck on- REBECCA! REBECCA, COME OUT HERE, THERE'S A GOTH TWINK WHO'S ASKING FOR YOU!"

There's a loud cry from the kitchens and then a flurry of noise- the door crashes open to reveal a host of staff members in various states of disarray, squealing and shouting and-

Rebecca Gadling.

Her eyes widen as soon as she lays her gaze on him, colored amber in the shock of sunset splayed across her face. She grins, and it's like a sun emerging in his chest, with frizzy long hair and tottering on her heels as people from the back shove at her.

Then suddenly, she stops moving towards him and leans back and Dream looks down to see that he has rather spectacularly dropped the large vase of flowers he'd brought Hob between them. Also the chocolates. And the shells. And the now-redundant shopping bags and the limestone sculptures and the silk handkerchiefs.

Hob breaks the stunned silence with a gentle, wet laugh, and Dream looks back up to her, feeling greatly like his entire body is misfunctioning.

"You shifted," He says hoarsely. Because she has- changed shape in a way belying a talented magician- one that's not her lover, the Shaper of Forms, who she surely must have known would have helped her with such a transformation in an instant if she'd so much as hinted to him about it- but Dream's aware enough to know he's on thin ice as is.

"Yeah, I, uh," Hob chuckles, tucking a hair behind her ear shyly, coyness dancing in her eyes as she sidesteps the broken glass and other obstacles to reach him. "You like?"

"Like?" Dream repeats faintly, too busy being overwhelmed as she comes closer. There's a skirt. A short skirt, pleated and the same pink latex as her half-top. Her half-top that is barely holding in her-

The white lace bra that she'd made Dream make for her before he left peeks out the straining bust and he makes a noise.

"Darling," Hob says, sounding like she's barely holding back a laugh as she puts one warm palm on his cheek. The women behind them are tittering and cackling. "My eyes are up here."

"I would be privileged to even have only the back of your knees to stare at until the end of the universe," Dream says, not moving with the gentle pressure so he can keep looking at the breasts enclosed in pink and white. "Let alone the vastness of your eyes, warm and beautiful as fertile earth. But I would like very much to stare at your voluptuous breasts as long as unsocially acceptable, unless you deign to reveal to me more-"

"Right," Hob says, strangled. She turns to look over her shoulder. "I'm not coming back after today. Also get out, all of you, I'm fucking him on the tables."

Hob- Rebecca, was it?- turns back to him as the rest of their audience disappears in a loud burst of noise that he pays no attention to. Hob's hair is long and open, held back on both sides by white ornaments- not good enough, he should get her more- and stretches down to her backside, swaying enticingly.

It looks unbearably tempting against the pink.

"Do you still like having your hair pulled?" He murmurs into her neck, fingers already tangled and tugging as he presses her down into the table. Rebecca gasps, shuddering at the viper-quick movement, legs spreading.

"Hi, Dream. How was the deep sea?" She says hoarsely, laughter in her voice, and he growls.

"Unimportant." He declares, turning his head so he can sink his teeth into her throat. He plays with the ends of the skirt, stroking her thighs. It looks indescribably good on her. "Keep this uniform, after you quit."

Hob laughs again and Dream darts in to kiss her in greeting, before getting distracted once more by the feel of her chest pressing to his. Greedily, he reaches up for a handful, and Rebecca releases a beautiful, quiet whimper into his mouth that might drive Dream slightly insane.

"Pink is my color, isn't it?" Hob preens when she can speak ten minutes later, Dream's shadows spreading her saliva across her chin as they retreat, unable to go for stopping Hob's endless chatter during sex like he usually does, after so long in empty, dark silence.

"It is," Dream breathes, still fucking her like a dog. The lights flicker lovingly above them, summer rainstorm blazing outside as the two of them embrace on a sticky table in an empty cafe. The last stretches of twilight grasp at Hob desperately, bathing her in pinks and oranges, a vision. The skirt is flipped up and the half-top is missing buttons and hanging open limply, giving him full access to the lace torn by his teeth and breathtaking curves of her heavy breasts.

He moans as he looks down at the full picture, so different from the last twelve years of blue and white and black. He thinks rather fondly of the anglerfish dreams he's seen over the past few years, and their mating habits, and thinks he would like nothing more than being permanently attached to Hob until the heat death of the universe.

Hob giggles. "Is this because you missed me or because you like me as a woman?"

"You shifted," Dream whines. Hob cackles at him and he pinches her nipples in admonishment. "If you had shifted into a worm, I would have done so too and still had you like this."

"You are so odd," Hob says, delighted, and nearly takes his feet out from under him with how hard she pulls him down to her lips. "And say the oddest, sweetest things. I love you."

"I love you also." Dream says, palms unmoving on the latex and fingers on Rebecca's warm skin, a very pleasant combination. "Please keep the uniform."

Hob laughs again, and Dream allows himself a wide smile as he pushes himself back up. Even destroyed, it looks fetching on her.

But he's not done with her quite yet.

(They both know he never will be.)

"You know I've had more women than men," Dream says, watching with glee as Hob's smile drops in favour of a flustered blush and a healthy dose of fear as he grins down at her. "Let me show you what I've learned, hm?"

She grins back, fire of a challenge in her eyes as she pushes her chest up. Her skirt brushes against their skin as it falls, Dream hitching Hob's leg higher as he presses closer. "Bring it on."

#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dreamling bingo #the start of a uniform f e tish anyways lmao #with a nice dose of fem hob

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honeybeefae · 2 years ago

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I hope I'm doing it right… Double penetration, NSFW, Azriel and Helion 🫣

Love your work!!!💕💕💕💕

(We've got our first x! Let's go!)

Light and Shadow (Helion x Reader x Azriel)

BINGO: Double Penetration

You had known Helion for many years. You knew what he was like, the suave charisma that made up his aura, and you also knew just how relentless he could be. You also knew Azriel, with being a part of the Inner Circle, and you how stubborn, stoic, and jealous he could be.

So when you and Az had made a detour to the Day Court to rummage through the library, you weren’t surprised when Helion had asked you both to stay the night for some extra fun. He had given you both a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, his smirk making your stomach flutter despite yourself, but you had politely declined.

Azriel had never taken on his advances and you knew that wasn’t going to change.

And yet here you are, four hours later, speared on Helion’s cock while Azriel lubed himself up behind you.

A low whine came out of your throat as you rode Helion, your hands using his shoulders as leverage as he enjoyed the view. You knew he would be good, great even, but when he immediately hit all those hidden spots inside you you were putty in his hands.

“That’s it, baby,” He praised, abdomen muscles flexing as he watched your greedy cunt swallow him. “Show him just how much you love it.”

Your entire body was sweaty as you bit down on your bottom lip, nodding absentmindedly as you threw your head back in bliss. Helion’s hands came up to grope your breasts, twisting your nipples until they were hard underneath his fingertips.

“Fuck, you’re so deep,” You panted, thighs already shaking from the effort as you heard feet shuffle behind you. “I don’t, I don’t know if I can take you both.”

“Oh you can and you will, mouse.” Azriel grunted, placing a hand on your back to get you to still. “This is what you wanted right? To be fucked in both holes?”

Was that what you wanted? You had been on edge since his offer, images flickering through your head that Azriel was quick to pick up on. However now that you were faced with it you were worried they were going to break you in half.

“You can do it, kitten.” Helion assured you, brushing his thumb over the crease in your forehead. His sweet words were like the ice to Azriel’s fire as he dropped his hand to start rubbing your clit in slow circles, watching as the Illyrian took his position.

You tensed up when you felt the head of his cock press against your pink hole, only relaxing when the High Lord of Day tilted your head to his and started to increase his pace. His fingers were working magic on your body, your pussy clenching around his cock as he fought to remain still.

“Take a deep breath for me.” Azriel murmured as he slowly began pushing forward, his jaw clenching at just how tight your asshole was. You did as you were told, the sting of pain from the stretching making your toes curl.

Inch by inch he filled you with his cock and as the pain slowly started to ebb away, you realized how full you were. You could feel both of them throbbing inside you and when Azriel finally bottomed out all three of you let out moans.

“Gods, Y/N, you’re clamping down on me so hard I’m afraid you’re going to break it.” Helion hissed through his teeth, his eyes shut in pleasure. “Please tell me we can move, my resolve is thin.”

Azriel made a sound of agreement, his scarred hands on your back and hip as you nodded. They both pulled out at the same time until just the tips were left, before slamming forward in unison.

You felt your body surge forward from the force as you saw literal stars from the sensation of two cocks inside you. A loud cry fell from your lips, your nails digging into Helion’s skin as they started a brutal pace. His fingers were still on your clit, pinching it and circling it expertly which only enhanced your pleasure.

“Such a dirty girl, hm?” Azriel whispered into your ear, one of his hands grabbing a fistful of your hair to drag your body towards him. You whimpered as the pain and pleasure made you drunk, Helion watching with a lust-filled gaze. “One cock just isn’t enough for you. You’re so greedy.”

“Don’t tease the poor girl, she’s doing so well.” Helion smirked, his hips now snapping up as you basically went limp in between them.

They both sounded far away as every nerve in your body zeroed in on your cunt and ass. You could’ve sworn you could feel them rubbing against each other through the thin layer of skin, the friction setting you alight. You could hardly make any other sound than moans, your eyelashes fluttering as you barely made out the shared look between the two men.

Helion was brushing against your gspot each time he bottomed out, enjoying how your walls spasmed around him from the feeling. He had many lovers but this was the most fun he had in years, his eyes flickering to the fucked out face you were making before gazing at Azriel.

The Shadowsinger was all business, his eyebrows scrunched together in concentration as he drove in and out of your asshole. He was lost in the rhythm of his own pleasure, his nostrils flaring as your whines started to get louder.

You were close already, so close, and while a small part of you didn’t want this to end you also knew if you didn’t cum soon, you would combust. They also seemed to pick up on it as they both started to go impossibly deeper, now alternating between in and out so that you were feeling everything all at once.

“I can’t, I can’t!” You cried, all of the sensations becoming too much. “I’m gonna-”

“Let go, mouse, cum all over our cocks.” Azriel purred into your ear, his hand now wrapped around your throat.

“We’ll catch you, kitten. Show me that beautiful face.” Helion moaned, watching as Azriel tilted your head down so that he could watch you come undone.

It wasn’t long after that that you felt both of your holes clench down, distantly hearing them swear as you had the best orgasm of your life. It made your entire body fuzzy, including your mind, as complete and utter pleasure poured over you like hot lava.

Helion and Azriel were close behind as their hips stuttered, both of them stilling inside you as they coated your insides with their seed. You barely lifted your head when Azriel pulled out slowly followed by Helion, both of them enjoying the way their cum dripped out of you and onto the bed.

Azriel scooped you up into his arms and made his way to the bathroom, watching as the High Lord grabbed his strewn clothes and made his way to the door. You were almost fast asleep on his chest as he said, “This was a one time thing, do you understand?”

“Of course,” Helion replied, a sleepy smirk turning his lips up. “Until next time at least.”

Before he could reply Helion left the room, leaving him to take care of you as he got a warm rag to wipe you down. Azriel was absolutely sure there wouldn’t be a next time.

Well, almost sure.

#acotar #acotar smut #acotar reader smut #helion x reader #helion x reader smut #azriel x reader #azriel x reader smut #azriel smut #helion smut #helion x reader x azriel #azriel acotar #helion acotar #azriel #helion #acotar fics #acotar bingo #azriel acotar smut

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apomaro-mellow · 11 months ago

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Sorry not sorry but I just saw on bingo board about THE sailor outfit and sense I am a huge suckered for Season 3 Steve meets/reference Eddie I had to send an ask

Eddie had been completely innocent, minding his own business. He was doing what everyone else in Starcourt was doing. Enjoying his summer, buying shit, and loitering. And he wasn't alone. Jeff was with him too on this gloriously sunny day.

"And you can bet he's gonna be all up my ass come fall", Eddie said.

"You probably shouldn't've put dog shit in his office then", Jeff said.

"He had no proof it was me and he deserved it. I coulda scraped through this time and been done with high school but he's out to get me!"

Eddie could go on about the principal's personal vendetta against him and he did as they walked through the mall, turning this way and that, gesticulating wildly at times. Normally fine, but oh fate, this was the one time he managed to trip over his own feet. He collapsed onto the floor, right under one of the many tables in the food court.

Usually, he would've gotten up right away. Brushed himself off, no problem. But usually, he wasn't face to face with a pair of thick thighs. Slowly, Eddie lifted up onto his arms, which brought him right in between the pair of legs.

Then he heard the voice of God.

"Do you mind?"

He jolted up, banging his head on the underside of the table. Then he scrambled out and up and rubbed his head, and found the owner of said legs.

Steve motherfucking Harrington.

Sipping a milkshake and crossing his legs like he knew they would lead to Eddie's downfall. Oh, and the only reason he could see those legs was because he was wearing a goddamn sailor suit.

"You wanna take a picture? It'll last longer."

Eddie remembered himself and smirked. "You join the navy or something Harrington?"

Steve rolled his eyes and stood up, tossing the empty cup in the trash and Eddie watched with pretty much zero shame as he walked away. Someone was playing a prank on him, right? Because there was no way the cards had just fallen into place to make Harrington get a job at a mall ice cream shop that also just happened to require him to wear the kind of outfit that wouldn't be out of place at a Halloween party. Or a strip club.

"You wanna pick your jaw up off the floor?", Jeff asked, practically materializing out of thin air. How long had he been there?

"Jeff, how's about a summer terrorizing an ice cream parlor?"

"With your lactose intolerant ass?"

Eddie watched as Steve's co-worker, who he definitely knew from school, tossed a hat on him, scolding him for not being in full uniform.

"It'll be totally worth it."

Steddie bingo under the cut

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #we need to keep putting him in silly lil outfits

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seungminsbaldspot · 11 months ago

Text

Impenetrable - Chapter Three

Paring: Hybrid/Poly BTS x reader

Series Link: Impenetrable Masterlist

Word Count:

Warnings: cursing, mentions of death and killing

Taglist: Open

Notes: If you wanna join the taglist, comment and I will get it sorted for you!

IMPORTANT (PLEASE READ)

Prev / Next

Recap:

What now?" he asks, breaking the momentary silence. "Even if the pack decides to let you stay, Eanses won't take kindly to your failure."

You look down, “Death is really my only option here. Sounds gruesome but I am nothing to them, just some spendable life.”

The conversation is interrupted by the door swinging open. It’s Alpha. “The pack wants to meet you.”

Min Yoongi smiles, “I knew that this was gonna happen.” You tilt your head to the side, “Already? Are they not suspicious or like you know? Scared? I mean I was literally was sent here to kill them if needed?”

Min Yoongi's smile carries a hint of amusement, and he replies, "The pack has a way of sensing things. They can feel intentions, even hidden ones. And they've seen their fair share of threats. It takes more than a hidden assassin to make them cower."

You ponder his words, Their heightened senses and instincts seem to grant them an understanding that surpasses the ordinary. The dynamics within the pack hold mysteries that you're only beginning to grasp.

"But don't mistake their curiosity for acceptance," Min Yoongi adds, his expression more serious. "You're still on thin ice. Your past with Eanses won't be easily overlooked, and trust isn't something they give away freely." Right.

Alpha and MIn Yoongi lead you downstairs where the remaining five packmates are sitting in various places in the living room. Looking around you recognize them as the nicknames that You’ve given them.

Tall Guy is sitting beside Happy on the couch. Happy seems to be rather nervous, while Tall Guy is very calm - too calm. Tall Guy is seemingly comforting Happy. Tiger and Dog are sitting together on the other end of the couch that Tall Guy and Happy are sitting on. Strong Guy is sitting on the plush chair near the couch. Alpha and Min Yoongi lead you to another chair, but this one is wooden, and it’s sat in front of the Television. Yoongi stands beside the chair, motioning for you to sit, and you do. Alpha leaves and sits on the armrest of the plush chair that Strong Guy is sitting on.

As you sit in the wooden chair, surrounded by the pack, you can feel their collective gaze upon you. The room remains quiet, the unspoken tension thickening. The pack's judgment awaits, and you brace yourself for the questions, scrutiny, or decisions that may come.

“Sitting here, I just realized none of us have said our names, not even you.” Alpha pointed at you. Your eyes widen, “I’m y/n.” You introduce, Knowing that you were going to have to go first anyway. Min Yoongi nods, “I’m Yoongi, but I’m sure you already knew that.” He snickered.

“My name is Namjoon. And I’m the Alpha of this pack.” Bingo, You were right. You nod, “Jungkook” He nods curtly in awkwodledgemnt “I’m Seokjin. This is Hoseok.” Tall Guy or well Seokjin says and points to Happy, who you now know as Hoseok. “Taehyung.” Tiger says, very monotonely. Dog shakes his head, “Sorry about him, He’s in one of his moods, I’m Jimin.” Alpha, Or Namjoon as you should start to refer to him as, Nods.

“Great. Now that the introductions are over, We can get into what we all want to know.” Namjoon states, and the pack's collective attention sharpens. The room falls into a focused hush as Namjoon's words hang in the air. The pack's collective attention centers on you, and the weight of anticipation intensifies.

Namjoon, maintaining a composed demeanor, breaks the silence. "Why were you sent to kill Min Yoongi, and who sent you?"

The directness of Namjoon's inquiry cuts through the tension, and all eyes are on you, awaiting your response.

You sigh, only due to the fact that this is like the fifth time having to explain this to this pack. “As I have stated, I was taken to a hybrid lab.” You proceed to recount the familiar tale of your creation in the hybrid lab, the genetic manipulation, conditioning, and training that shaped you into an obedient and lethal being. The story unfolds, revealing the involvement of Eanses, their interest in your abilities, and the mission to eliminate Min Yoongi.

The pack listens attentively, their expressions ranging from curiosity to suspicion. The complexity of your past and the forces that have shaped you become clearer with each word you speak.

Namjoon remains stoic, his gaze unwavering as he absorbs the details of your story. The room remains silent as you conclude your explanation, leaving the pack to process the truth of your origins and the mission that brought you to their doorstep.

Namjoon breaks the silence, his voice measured, "Why did you choose to deviate from the mission? What made you hide among us instead of carrying out your orders?"

You meet Namjoon's gaze, aware that this question delves into the motivations that led to your unexpected deviation. “I couldn’t allow myself to fuck up a happy family.”

Your response echoes in the room, and a moment of quiet contemplation follows. The sincerity in your words carries the weight of your internal struggle and the unexpected bond that formed with the pack during your observation.

Namjoon's gaze lingers on you, and there's a flicker of understanding in his eyes. The pack members exchange glances, their expressions reflecting a mix of emotions, from skepticism to a subtle acknowledgment of the complexities that surround your existence.

Namjoon breaks the silence, "Deviation from a mission is a serious matter, and we can't ignore the potential threat you might still pose. However, we also recognize the choices you've made and the risks you've taken by revealing your past. Trust is not given lightly, but we'll deliberate on what's best for the pack."

Yoongi taps your shoulder, “Let’s go back to the room.” Following Yoongi's lead, you rise from the wooden chair, acutely aware of the lingering tension in the room. As you move with him towards the exit, a whimper from the couch captures your attention. Yoongi reassures the pack, waving his hand dismissively, "I'll be fine. You all already know where I stand."

The pack members exchange glances, their expressions hinting at the internal deliberation still taking place. The atmosphere remains charged with uncertainty, but you follow Yoongi out of the room, leaving the pack to continue their discussions.

Yoongi and you walk out of the room, and the tension from the pack's criticism follows. There's a hanging feeling about their decision, the weight of their considerations. The room's relative seclusion, away from the pack's questioning gaze brings you comfort.

Yoongi closes the door behind you, momentarily shielding the two of you from the outside world. The room turns into a calm refuge, providing a brief break from the complex dynamics taking place inside the pack.

Yoongi leans against the door, his expression unreadable. "We'll have to wait for their decision. Whatever happens, you need to be prepared for the consequences. The pack doesn't take these matters lightly." You could only nod.

Meanwhile, with the pack, the discussion of you was only getting started. “Is she not a threat to us? To Yoongi?” Taehyung grimaces. Namjoon

Namjoon, maintaining his role as the Alpha, addresses the pack, "Her past with Eanses is undoubtedly a cause for concern. However, she chose to reveal herself and explain her deviation from the mission. We need to consider her actions and the risks she took by doing so."

Tall Guy, or Seokjin, interjects, "She mentioned she couldn't allow herself to 'fuck up a happy family.' If she had ill intentions, she could have acted long before now."

The pack members exchange glances, each processing the information and weighing the potential risks and benefits of your presence among them.

Hoseok, or Happy, chimes in nervously, "But what if it's a trick? We can't let our guard down." Hoseok's nervous tone reflects a valid concern among the pack. The uncertainty surrounding your true intentions raises doubts and wariness among the members.

Namjoon, maintaining his Alpha role, addresses the pack with a measured tone, "Remaining cautious is essential. We can't afford to underestimate the potential risks. However, we also need to consider the choices she made, and the risks she took to reveal her past. It's not a decision to be made lightly."

"If she wanted to harm us, she's had plenty of opportunities. Maybe she’s being truthful?." Jimin says. Jungkook scoffs. “I think that’s your border collie side showing.” He grumbles out. Namjoon maintains his Alpha authority, "We can't dismiss the potential dangers, but Jimin has a point. If she wanted to harm, she's had opportunities. We need to weigh the information carefully before making a decision."

Seokjin sighs, “I think we should keep her. If we don’t she goes back to Eanses and gets killed.” He states calmly. Taehyung almost growls, “And if she stays, they come to us.” He argues. Namjoon takes a moment to weigh the options. "We need to be realistic about the risks involved. If we decide to keep her, we should be prepared for the consequences and take necessary precautions." The pack remains silent.

“So are we taking a vote?” Hoseok asks. Namjoon nods, “All in favor of letting her go back to Eanses, raise your hand.” Namjoon says, raising his hand. Jungkook and Taehyung both raise their hands. Namjoon counts, “Okay all who want her to stay.” Hoseok, Jimin, and Seokjin raise their hands. Jungkook scoffs, “So it’s a tie?” Seokjin shakes his head, “No. Yoongi wants her to stay too. Four vs Three. She’s staying.”

Taglist: @sophiaj650 @danielle143 @sweet-nothings467 @todorokikettlephobia @multi-fandomposts @cathy1514 @loumin908 @yooxverse @majesticbangtanot7 @famousdelusionobservation (idk why this tag isn't tagging im so sorry) @amimami1991 @deepestfacedevil

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film-in-my-soul · 1 year ago

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Can we please get an IceMav fix it ficlet? Thank you ❤️

You've got it darling ❤️

.⋆｡°✩ Of course there would be someone to mourn Maverick if he burned in, and he's waiting on the carrier for him to come home. ✩°｡⋆.

It serves Maverick right, he thinks to himself, that the adrenaline would start to wear off immediately when Hangman drops out of the smoking, smoldering, falling wreckage of the fifth-gen he'd shot out of the sky. There's the telltale decline of buzzing energy under his skin, and almost ironically, it brings with it a hand tremor and swooping in his gut that he fights down, has to fight down, when they turn around for the carrier, and he and Rooster lose an engine. Knowing they could have lost a whole goddamn wing, Maverick doesn't voice his frustration, only shrugs, gets his grip as steady as he can on the stick trying to jerk wildly between his knees, and quips to quell Rooster's growing distress. They've come so far. To fail now is unthinkable, and if Maverick has to point the nose of his bird right into the tarmac just to make it happen, well, he's not the one who has to deal with the sparks that shoot up from their lack of landing gear.

He does have to deal with the whiplash and his helmet smacking against the screaming controls, though.

It's over quick, at least, and Maverick can fight through his swimming vision and pulsing skull easily when the canopy hisses open, and the sound of high-spirited cheering and thunderous applause greets him like a hero's welcome. He hops from the wing of the F-14 and lands with legs that threaten to fall out from under him. His knees are weak, and there's a painful lurch at the base of his spine. It's at least a slight nod to his age, but mostly, Maverick thinks it has to do with a forced eject at Mach 10 and taking a missile to his tail in the middle of a dogfight. That's the excuse he'll cling to when he's chewed out within an inch of his life by the medical staff if he even makes it there before he's ripped a new one.

Between Rooster rounding on him, hugging him tight like he did years ago, when Maverick felt he was at least half deserving of it, and the sweeping relief, he's not sure it'll happen. That, and there's an unmistakable presence making its way toward him, crewmen parting with hasty salutes to create a tunnel from the observation deck gangway right to where Maverick is stood, swaying like the ocean around them must be.

Either a silence is falling the closer Ice gets to him, or Maverick's losing his hearing. It could be both if he's being honest with himself; there's already an edge of black to his vision that he's soldiering through. If he passes out now, it's not just the man coming to a stop a foot away that'll have his balls but the whole damn Navy. And while there might be a debate on the ownership of them already, Maverick's not looking for a reminder, not while he's coming off a victory that, for all he'd fronted, shouldn't have happened, not without a casualty.

"Captain," Ice says, voice rough, something sharp in his red-rimmed eyes.

"Admiral Kazansky," Maverick nods, not bothering to salute. He'd won that bet in the late 2000s, and he honestly thinks if he tried being cute about it, Ice might punch him for the trouble.

There's a moment, a stalemate, and then Ice rolls his eyes and reaches forward, dragging Maverick in by a shoulder. For as firm as his grip is, he doesn't let Maverick slam into his chest or hold him too tightly. He's probably already looked at his pre-mission physical and found Maverick lacking the constitution for it. Maverick doesn't fight it, even going so far as to press into Ice's chest, throwing rank to the fucking wind for just this moment.

He feels hot air against his ear and tries not to slump fully into the other man's embrace like he might in a more private setting.

"When you see yourself to medical and are cleared, you are going to march yourself to my quarters, and I am going to remind you about those little things called vows, Pete."

Maverick hums, risks the quickest, lightest kiss to Ice's throat above the collar of his uniform, and whispers back, "Promise?"

It almost makes the incessant twinge in his back and definite concussion worth it.

Ficlet Bingo!

#icemav #top gun ficlet #ficlet #blog game

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watarfallar · 2 months ago

Text

Who's everyone's favourite team-up this season? Anyways, have more incorrect quotes in preparation for the chaos in session 3 tomorrow!

Cleo, singing: He's making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who's on thin fucking ice Scott, also singing: Santa Claus is calling you out!

Lizzie: Yeah I'm LGBT. Lizzie: cuLt leader. Lizzie: God hates me personally. Lizzie: cowBoy hat. Lizzie: *sniffles* Trying my best.

Etho: Aren’t you going to say “have a nice day?” Bdubs: I don’t care if you have a pulse, much less a nice day.

Ren: What's worse than a heartbreak? Joel: Waking up in the morning and your phone wasn't charging. Skizz: Waking up in the morning. BigB: Waking up.

Joel: That's not funny. Lizzie: I thought it was funny. Joel: You don't count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Facebook.

Gem: Play to your strengths. Impulse: I haven’t got any!

Scott: You know, Pearl, when you generalize, you tell general... lies. Pearl: ... Pearl: Are you trying to teach me moral lessons through puns.

Mumbo: You're not my friend anymore. BigB: I was your friend?

Pearl: I haven't seen Gem and Tango for fifteen minutes now. *Outside a nearby window, a car without a driver inside is seen rolling down a driveway, with Gem and Tango running after it in a panic. Pearl doesn't look outside at all.* Pearl: That probably means they're getting into trouble.

Cleo: Would it be discrimination to only hire employees at my doughnut shop who have the same name? Ren: Legally, I don't believe that breaches any discrimination laws. Morally though... I don't know. Cleo: I believe god is on my side when it comes to Duncans' Doughnuts.

Cleo: I want a bf. Scott: Do you mean best friend, boyfriend or bread feast? Because you’re being really vague here.

Mumbo: You either buckle down and do your work or you’ll end up at McDonalds. Skizz: We're going to McDonalds if I don't do my work? Mumbo: NO-

Jimmy: It is 6:09 . Jimmy: I am wondering why I’m still alive. Jimmy: Send Wendy’s. Scott: The whole restaurant?!

Grian: What is this!? Etho: That’s the weight of guilt. Give in to the nice side. Help those unfortunate, and make the guilt go away, my friend. Grian: Ow! Make it stop! Etho: Surrender to your kindness, Grian. It’s nice to be nice. Grian: Your guilt is strong, my friend. But it is no match for the power of my selfishness!

Cleo, to Joel: Are you peanuts? Because I want to boil you alive.

Scar: If I didn't know better, Grian, I'd say you were scared. Grian: Heh, scared? *absolute silence* Grian: DID YOU HEAR THAT?!

Grian: What are you up to today? Mumbo: Nothing. Grian: But you did that yesterday! Mumbo:I wasn’t finished.

Scott: Why aren't there friend pick up lines? Pick up lines to make friends like- Scott, to Pearl: Hey, that's a cute outfit. You know where it would look better? On nobody else, because you're a beautiful individual. Ren, to Impulse: Be my friend or I'll set your entire family on fire. Scar: There are two types of people.

BigB: FUCK THE CHAIR. PARDON ME FOR MAKING MYSELF COMFORTABLE DURING A SINCERE HEART TO HEART DISCUSSION WITH A DEAR FRIEND IN NEED! BigB: BUT THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO CEASE STRADDLING THIS DEEPLY OFFENSIVE PIECE OF FURNITURE! AWAY WITH YE, FOUR LEGGED TEMPTRESS! DISTRACT US NO MORE WITH THE MOST BASIC AND UTILITARIAN FORM OF COMFORT YOU SUPPLY! Cleo: BigB just threw a tantrum about a chair. Cleo: I just won BigB Tantrum Bingo.

Jimmy, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe? Ren: Yeah, sure. *A few minutes later* Ren: Here you go. Jimmy: Ren: Joel: Why am I here?

Jimmy: What are the hardest things to say? Grian: I was wrong. Martyn: I need help. Skizz: Worcestershire sauce.

Scar: Last night I found out Bdubs is a sleep talker. Cleo: Oh, really? Scar: "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell." Right. In. My. Ear. At 3am.

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voiceoffenrisulfr · 9 months ago

Text

Slam

Following an injury in the field, Bucky goes to check on Steve in the infirmary and confesses his feelings and his fears.

CW: Minor injury, smut, first time. Don’t forget to use lube, folks – unless you’re a super soldier.

Prompts used;

‘Bad Coping Mechanisms’, ‘Mutual Pining’ and ‘Wall Sex’ – Build-a-Bucky Bingo (@buckybarnesevents);

“You Look So Pretty Like This.” and ‘Muscles’ – @stuckybingo;

“I’m Right Where I Belong.” and “You Getting Flustered is One of the Cutest Things I’ve Seen.” – @sebastianstanbingo.

Check it out on AO3 here, or below! Boards at the bottom. Banner by @sarahowritesostucky

Bucky raced through the corridors, the serum’s power flowing through him as his feet pounded the linoleum, heart hammering in his chest.

As soon as the news of Steve’s injury had reached him, he’d been up and running, with fear he hadn’t felt in decades pulsing in his veins. Ever since Steve had been bulked up in the war, Bucky had been able to slowly let go of the terror for Steve’s longevity that had plagued him since he’d met the kid at six years old, scrawny but surprisingly bold – and prone to getting his ass kicked. But the serum Steve had received had made the once-tiny man a hulking mass of muscle and sinew, invulnerable to most things thrown at him, and Bucky had finally been able to relax a little – though he still worried about his childhood friend more than any other member of the team.

Bucky blamed it on their longstanding connection and the camaraderie born from being the only two super soldiers, both displaced from their own time by time in ice (and servitude, in Bucky’s case). It was a miracle they were both here, together, a hundred years in the future and experiencing things they never even dreamt of.

That was it, Bucky argued, when he lay awake at night thinking of the skinny kid from Brooklyn, the strong man he’d grown into. He argued it was appreciation of the smooth curves of muscle that had him fantasising about the water flowing over his back when he’d glimpsed him in the shower after a training session. It was simply concern that had him inspecting his Captain’s bare chest when his suit had been ripped in battle, checking thoroughly for cuts and scrapes.

He'd argued, but it was as he was skidding to a halt and slamming through the infirmary doors that it finally hit him that his argument was a lie.

The sight of Steve lay on the thin medical paper, his back to the doors as Bruce finished stitching a deep wound above his hipbone, had Bucky pausing and panting for breath. It’d been a long time since he’d managed to move so quickly that he was forced to breathe harder, but his strides had barely touched the floor as he’d flown towards his teammate.

“Hey, Buck.”

The Winter Soldier cocked his head sharply, smiling just a little to himself as he saw Steve’s muscles relax minutely. “How did you know it was me?”

“Heard you running. Anyone else would be far more breathless – and definitely couldn’t move so fast.” The grin in Steve’s voice was audible, and Bucky chuckled, moving closer slowly.

“Yeah, well. Nat messaged, and she wasn’t liberal with the details. All I knew was that you’d been hurt.”

“Worried, were you?” Steve’s shoulders trembled as he laughed silently, making Bucky snort as he rounded the table, casting an assessing eye over the shallow lacerations marring the Captain’s bare chest as he took a seat.

“Actually, I was hoping to get here in time to pull the plug,” Bucky quipped, grinning, and Steve rolled his eyes affectionately.

“Your life wouldn’t be worth living without me in it, and you know it,” Steve teased back, lips quirked in a fond smile before he grimaced as the doctor tied off his thread. Buck reached out automatically, squeezing Steve’s hand reassuringly, heat tingling up his palm at the contact. He’d done this dozens of times as a youth, Steve’s fingers clinging desperately to his as the larger boy had carefully cleaned yet another split lip or scraped palm, but it felt different now, with Steve’s palm comparable to his and Bucky’s metal fingers cool against his skin – and Steve’s pulse beginning to pound at the contact.

“I’m all done here,” Bruce murmured, gently pressing an adhesive bandage to the suture line. “Keep it covered and dry for a few days, and the stitches should dissolve in a week or so. You’ll be good as new by then.” The doctor grinned, shaking his head fondly. “If only all of my patients recovered so quickly!”

Steve chuckled obligingly, pulling the edge of his suit a little higher to obscure both bandage and sharp curve of bone. “You’d be out of a job, Dr. Banner. Thanks again,” he added as Bruce rose, receiving a polite inclination of the head for his gratitude.

The boys were left alone, fingers still entwined together, Steve fiddling with the ragged edges of his clothing idly. “I’m gonna have to get a new suit… This one got pretty shredded.”

Bucky laughed, running a palm over the lacerated star hanging over the edge of the table. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I got thrown. Road rash sucks,” the Captain replied with a shrug, and groaned as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “But you heard Bruce – I’ll be good as new in a few days.”

James nodded, eventually releasing his friend’s hand with a discreet twitch of his jaw. “Yeah. You were always the strong one.” Steve snorted and raised an eyebrow, considering his fellow soldier pointedly, but Bucky only laughed and shook his head. “Maybe, when we were younger, I could pick up something heavier than you. But you were always so… Tough. You weren’t scared of anything.” He smiled softly, head tilted minutely. “Actually, no. You were scared, but you always stood up for yourself anyway. You never let anyone keep you down or underestimate you. That’s real strength.”

Steve chuckled, his cheeks pinkening minutely as he looked away. “Not always,” he muttered, hands knotting uncertainly in his lap. “There were some things I just… I didn’t fight when the insults and assumptions started flying.”

“The assumptions?” Bucky repeated softly, head cocked. When Steve only shrugged, Bucky leaned forward conspiratorially. “You getting flustered is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

Steve blinked in surprise, his back straightening nervously. “I-I… What?”

Bucky smiled softly, leaning a little closer. “Those assumptions… Do you mean the ones about your sexuality?”

Steve hesitated for a moment, eyeing his friend nervously. “… You heard about that?”

The sergeant arched an eyebrow, head inclined. “Of course, Stevie. You’re my best friend. Besides… We spent a whole lot of time together. It wasn’t just you that they made those assumptions about.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve replied quickly, looking away as guilt creased his features, but Bucky simply chuckled.

“Don’t be. They were right.”

The words sat in the still air for a moment before they collided visibly with the Captain, sending him jerking backwards in shock.

“They- You- … What?” Steve stammered, his eyes widening in shock.

“I’m gay,” Bucky replied easily, shrugging. “Well, no – I’m bisexual. But we both know it’s not the women you were asking about.” Steve’s mouth worked wordlessly, and Bucky smirked. “So? What about you? Were they right about you, too?”

Steve glanced around uncertainly, examining the empty space as if checking for someone hiding in the shadows. “… Why did you come so quickly, Buck?”

“I asked you first.”

“I’m trying to answer. Humour me. Why did you come so quickly?” he repeated, looking down to where his fingers were knotted in his lap.

“Because… Because I care about you?” Bucky offered uncertainly, and Steve nodded, eyes diverted.

“As a friend?” he prompted quietly. Bucky hesitated for a moment, watching as his Captain struggled silently to find the words he was looking for. “… I’m not gay, Buck.” The sergeant blushed minutely, opening his mouth to respond, but Steve held up a hand to stop him. “But I’m not straight, either. I… I’ve only ever wanted to be with – been in love with – one person. After all these years… It’s still only ever been one person.”

Bucky sat silently for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, apprehensive. “Who?”

“Don’t make me say it,” Steve replied, a wry grin quirking at his lips.

Bucky reached out, fingers finding his best friend’s once more, swallowing nervously. “Tell me, Stevie. Please.”

Steve glanced up at last, the brush draining from his cheeks with the sincerity of the moment, ice meeting cerulean in an all-encompassing gaze. “You, Bucky. It’s always been you.”

The words released a feral urgency in his fellow soldier, moving forward to kiss him in a clash of lips and tongues, a low whine escaping the brunette as he tangled his metal fingers in the other’s hair.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Bucky muttered, shifting to trail kisses over the broader man’s jaw, his free hand finding Steve’s hip to pull him closer. “I can’t believe I wasted so much time trying to bury my feelings in drinking and whoring…”

Steve nodded weakly, head instinctively tipping back under his sergeant’s rapturous ministrations. “I-I… I never knew you… I never expected…” He swallowed audibly, hips twitching as his arousal became ever more evident under the skin-tight material of his uniform. Bucky let out a quiet groan of desire, fingers trailing over Steve’s hipbone slowly – but the blond grasped his wrist as his fingertips brushed against his increasingly stiffening length. “Wait.”

Bucky winced, drawing back with a quick, apologetic shake of his head. “I-I’m sorry. We don’t have to, of course, I-”

Steve kissed his lover softly to interrupt him, shaking his head with a smile. “I want to,” he breathed, his fingers finding the back of Bucky’s neck to press their foreheads together. “I’ve just- I… I’ve never…”

Bucky’s face went blank as comprehension dawned, lips parting minutely. “You… Oh.” A smile flickered across his features, and he cupped Steve’s jaw gently. “That’s fine, sweet boy. We go as slow as you like, and do as much or as little as you want. It’s all up to you.”

Steve nodded slowly, then more firmly, and pulled Bucky back to him by the neck of his t-shirt, crushing his lips desperately against the taller man’s.

Buck’s hands were gentle as they explored the Captain’s bare chest, tracing the dips and curves of bone and muscle reverently, mapping each detail and committing every modicum of minutiae to memory – just in case. Steve shivered under his touch, the hand on the back of the sergeant’s neck drawing him closer as he lay back, gasping at the thigh that pressed lightly against his throbbing length.

“Buck, please,” he whispered, tugging gently at the other man’s shirt, purring with delight when the material was shed and dropped to the floor. His hands fumbled with the taller man’s belt, hesitating only minutely before pressing a palm to Bucky’s boxer-clad member and blushing shyly at the relieved groan the motion elicited.

Buck’s lips trailed slowly along jaw and throat, over Steve’s collarbone, proceeding patiently over chest and stomach. Bucky’s knees met the floor as his fingers curled in the waistband of the other man’s underwear. He glanced up to receive clarification, and when he was offered a nod, nervous but sure, he slowly slid Steve’s boxers down, trailing gentle kisses in their wake. When he looked up again to take in his Captain in all his glory, his mouth ran dry, tongue darting out to wet his lips in anticipation. He rocked on his heels for a moment, enjoying the sight for a little longer before falling forward, growling hungrily. His mouth encompassed Steve’s length quickly, eliciting a gasp and a whimper from the soldier pinned to the table, his hands tangling frantically in Bucky’s wild hair.

“I- Oh, Buck, th-that’s so…” Steve trailed off into a desperate moan, his back arching instinctively to press himself deeper. Bucky, in his experience, simply swallowed around his amateur partner’s erratic thrusts to take him into his throat, hands finding his hips to help smoothen his pace, earning a quiet, stammering exclamation for his efforts. The feeling of Bucky’s tongue massaging the underside of his cock as it passed between expert, kiss-flushed lips had him quivering and mewling uselessly until the sergeant pulled back, oceanic eyes dancing with joy. “Good?”

Steve all but sobbed in his pleasure, raising his head to nod weakly. “A-Amazing. Please, honey, Buck… I want… I need…”

“Anything you want, baby boy,” Bucky purred, wrapping a loose, coaxing hand around Steve’s length while he spoke – but unable to keep from leaning in intermittently to pass tongue or lips over the leaking tip, delighting in the gasps and jerks the simple gesture invoked. “You just say the word, and I-”

“I want to make love to you,” Steve interrupted softly, pink tinging his cheeks as he spoke, his twitching cock betraying his enthusiasm. Bucky blinked in surprise before smiling tenderly with an amused shake of his head.

“And here I’d had you pinned as a bottom… What a pleasant surprise,” Bucky breathed, powerless to stop one of his hands from grinding against the straining in his sweatpants desperately, eyes blown wide with lust. “I’ve thought about you fucking me so many times…” He winced minutely, expecting a reprimand from his straight-laced captain for his language, but the blond simply smiled.

“I may be inexperienced, Buck, but I’ve overheard enough sleeping in the room next to Tony’s to expect a little cussing in these situations.”

Bucky simply nodded, standing to pull his shirt over his head, and Steve gulped. He’d seen the brunette in varying degrees of undress on countless occasions, but always he had kept his eyes diverted and downcast, never looking up for fear he would give himself away. But now he could let his gaze roam freely, taking in the curve of the sinew and muscle, of strong arms and well-defined pecs, his expression softening minutely as he took in the puckered ridge of scar where flesh met metal. Bucky shifted self-consciously, raising a hand to rub uncertainly at the marred skin, and Steve pushed himself quickly to his feet, catching the other man’s fingers. “Hey… You’re beautiful, he whispered, dropping his head to pepper kisses along the seam reverently.

Bucky stiffened infinitesimally, relaxation gradually easing the tension in his muscles, a soft sigh escaping parted lips as his eyes closed. “I want you, Steve,” he breathed, fingertips trailing through the short hair adoringly.

Steve could only nod in response, hands fumbling with Bucky’s belt as he dropped to his knees, one flushed, pink lip pulled between his teeth. His breath ghosted over the bulge in the sergeant’s boxers, making the taller man shiver with delight. With a slow, nervous exhale, he wrapped his fingers in Bucky’s waistband, eyes widening minutely as the soldier’s cock was freed at last. Bucky smirked, hand resting gently on Steve’s head, letting out a quiet groan as the barest flick of a tongue passed over his tip. “Please, baby boy, I need you to-”

Bucky’s words were interrupted by his own sharp yelp as Steve clumsily but enthusiastically took him, his inexperience making him gag at the depth, but he recovered to bob his head just as eagerly. The taller man groaned, hand knotting in pale strands, head falling back as he attempted to guide his needy lover into smoother motions, but Steve grasped desperately at his hips, still frantically attempting to take Bucky’s length deeper. “Easy, Stevie,” he breathed, shifting one hand to cup the other man’s jaw tenderly, smiling at the soft whine around his cock. “You really want it deeper, hm?” Steve blinked balefully up at him, tongue still eagerly caressing every inch available, and the sergeant chuckled quietly, gently raising Steve’s chin slightly. “Swallow,” he murmured, pushing forward slowly, using the rhythmic motion of his lover’s obedience to sheath himself fully in Steve’s throat with a shudder. “Fuck, baby boy- so goddamn hot… You look so pretty like this…” His eyes found the other man’s, the pale blue shining with joy, lips parted wide around his cock, and Bucky could have come undone simply at the sight. Steve could only mewl with satisfaction, lashes flickering in pleasure as Bucky rocked his hips, driving his length into his Captain’s throat before drawing back just far enough to let him snatch a breath.

It didn’t take long for the brunette’s muscles to begin to tremble and clench, incensed by the sight of his lover stretched and kneeling before him. The fingers in his hair tensed, and Steve’s eyebrow twitched questioningly. “I-I can’t- I’ll- I can’t hold out,” Bucky stuttered, the rock of his hips become spasmodic – but Steve simply dug his fingers into the other man’s flesh, groaning encouragingly. Bucky hissed with the realisation, free hand joining the first, holding Steve’s head still as his thrusts became more forceful. The feeling of soft whimpers vibrating around his length spurred him on, and he stammered out a quick warning before burying himself deeply, fingernails catching against scalp as he pinned his submissive Captain against him. “Fuck, Steve- Stevie!”

Steve’s eyes closed in pleasure as his sergeant emptied with a guttural groan, swallowing eagerly, licking his lips as his trembling partner drew back at last. “Thank you,” Bucky breathed, unclenching his hand to smooth the messy blond strands tenderly. Steve opened his eyes to meet his gaze, hesitating only briefly before scrambling to his feet to pin the brunette to the wall, earning a grunt of surprise and a dry gulp.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Cap growled, one hand wrapping lightly around his sergeant’s throat, smiling when a quiet whimper and desperate nod came in response. Bucky groaned as he was turned quickly, hands flat to the wall and ass offered willingly, the Captain’s cock pressing against him teasingly. Steve spat in his palm and slicked his length quickly, one hand steadying himself with his lover’s hip as he lined himself up.

“Please- Please, Stevie, I need you, I want you- please, just-” Bucky moaned needily as Steve pressed inside him roughly, his forehead finding the other man’s metal shoulder as he groaned.

“Bucky- Buck, honey, you feel so good…” he grunted, dragging out slowly before slamming home once more. Slowly at first, the movements of his cock inside the taller man felt incredible, the spark of discomfort from the lack of preparation or real lubricant fading quickly until Bucky was rutting back desperately, trying in vain to increase the pace. “Sweet boy, you’re so eager!”

“Yes- God, yes Sir, please, Stevie- Cap, I need you to fuck me, baby boy,” Bucky panted, fingers curling against the plaster. Steve’s fingers found his, pinning his metal hand to the wall either side of his head, while the other wrapped around his already-stiffening cock, stroking him in time as he thrusted harder. Bucky yelped in surprise, back arching. He’d been fucked many times in his life – but never by someone whose strength parallelled his own, his very bones creaking under the strain as Steve pounded against him with bruising ferocity.

Steve was lost in the heat fizzing through his veins; there was nothing but this, the feeling of Bucky wrapped around him, tight and hot, the air full of the scent of sex and the lewd sounds falling from their lips. This was everything he’d ever wanted, and he found his body reacting automatically, knowing just what to do as he drove himself deeper, their hands on the wall creating cracks in the plaster under the power.

“So beautiful – so good, James – I love you,” Steve groaned, fisting his sergeant’s cock faster as he felt his climax approaching, too far gone and too eager to slow down, to take his time in this. Bucky simply whimpered in response, his forehead pressed to the plaster, soft sobs of overwhelming pleasure falling from his lips between pleas and gratitude, rutting back against each perfect thrust. “Please- Stevie, fuck, just like that- I-I’m going- I-” His spine arched as he came without warning, painting both his lover’s hand and the wall before him, muscles clenching around Steve’s length.

Steve wrapped an arm around his partner’s waist, dragging him against his chest as he fucked him harder still, groaning out a plea for mercy into Bucky’s throat as he finally, blissfully, emptied himself inside his sergeant.

Bucky lay panting with his head on Steven’s chest, sweat-damp and exhausted, his backside bruised, entirely blissful.

“D’you want to get up?” Steve murmured, tracing his fingers gently down his lover’s spine, earning a lazy shake of the head.

“I’m right where he belong,” Bucky whispered in response, pressing a tender kiss to the bare skin under his cheek.

#fanfiction #mine #fandom: marvel #writers on tumblr #writing bingo #rating: e #pwp #stucky smut #bucky barnes x steve rogers #plot what plot #smut #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan bingo #sexy seabass #stucky bingo #build a bucky bingo 2023 #bucky barnes events

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year ago

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Gingerbread: Obispo 'Bishop' Losa x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Baking!

Tagging: @storiesofsvu @fanfic-n-tabulous @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @multifandomloversworld @est1887 @oklahomapeach @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @adaydreamaway08 @spookyboogyuniverse @librarian1002 @thanossexual @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @justreblogginfics @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx

Following on from The Wall Series:

When Bishop gets home that night it’s to the scent of freshly baked gingerbread. He toes off his boots, setting them down alongside your shoes before he follows his nose to the open plan kitchen.

Before you he’d forgotten what it was like to come home to someone else, to feel a welcoming presence instead of stepping into that crushing silence. One of the reasons he likes living with you is because your house feels like a home, not just a place to lay your head.

When he steps into the kitchen, it feels like he’s walked into Santa’s bakery. There’s gingerbread men on cooling on every single surface. You’re standing with your back to him, an apron tied over your clothes.

“Are these all for the kid’s hampers?” He asks you picking up one of the gingerbread folk and taking a bite of it’s leg. It’s the perfect blend of warm spiciness and dark sweetness, melting in his mouth as he chews the other leg. “These are phenomenal Mi Cielo.”

Every year you put together holiday hampers for families in the community who can’t afford to give their children the Christmas they deserve. You collect donations, wrap gifts, bake cookies, pack treats and then the week before Christmas deliver them to the families in Santo Padre who need them the most. You’re running late this year, you had told him a couple of days ago. You were still recovering from your injury a couple of months ago, trying to juggle the community centre and the underground network at the same time.

The club had stepped in to try and take some of the weight off. Riz was managing all of the programs at the community centre with support from Gilly, whilst Coco had taken over the underground network, working with Nestor and Rosa.

It was hard for you to relinquish that burden, to admit that right now you were stretching yourself too thin, but Stitches had helped to convince you, to take a breath and pause. You’d thrown yourself into the hampers with the same ferocity you did everything else. The lounge was full of donations to be wrapped, which was meant to be Bishop’s first task after dinner. However, looking at the state of the kitchen, he’s just decided the two of you are going to order in.

Bishop’s already devoured the majority of the gingerbread person by the time he realises you haven’t responded to his question. His eyebrows furrow into a frown as he approaches you, it’s then that he realises your shoulders are quivering. At first, he thinks you’re upset about the gingerbread.

“Carmen, I’m sorry.” He says, his hand coming to rest upon the curve of your shoulder, his thumb ghosting over the nape of your neck. “I’ll make more, I’ll…”

“It’s not the gingerbread.” You say turning to face, using the back of your right hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “It’s my fucking arm.”

His gaze strays to your left arm, it hangs by your side. He watches as you try to clench your fist, but you can only close your fingers down to the pads of your palm.

“I’ve got a million of these hampers to do and I can’t even ice the gingerbread people.” You tell him, frustrated tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’m never going to get them out on time.”

Bishop sees this for what it is. You’ve pushed yourself too hard today, you’re overwrought and exhausted.

“Come ‘ere.” He murmurs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and drawing you close. His lips brush over your hairline as you bury your face into the hollow of his throat. “I’ll take care of it, Mi Cielo, don’t you worry. I’ll make sure they get done in time.”

***

Bishop phones in reinforcements. When he puts the call out, he doesn’t expect the majority of the MC to descend upon the house with their partners in tow. He should have done this initially he realises but he’d been too caught up with trying to sort out this thing with the pipeline. Next year he thinks, next year he’ll be better prepared.

EZ and Jo are stuck at the bar, Taza’s up in Yuma trying to persuade Canche to accept Bishop’s terms on the pipeline deal. He’s proposed a buyout, for a lump sum, he’ll give them fifty percent of the pipeline. It fills Santo Padre’s coffers, keeping them flush while their other legitimate enterprises grow. Lila’s decided to entirely legit in the wake of Valeria, which means she needs a security crew to move both her kush and her cash. Angel, Neron and Hank supervise her runs, which has proved increasingly lucrative for the club over the past few months.

Between themselves they establish a production line, it reminds Bishop of the days they used to transport heroin for the Galindos. He divides them into teams, he has Neron, Nina and Nestor working on the gingerbread folk. Bottles, Gilly and Ginny are putting the food hampers together while Angel, Lila and Coco are on wrapping, Stitches and Songbird put on the finishing touches. Coco and Riz put together the gift bags and baskets, marking each one off on the checklist. You’re on the couch cradling Valeria with your good arm, a cushion propped under it as you give the baby eskimo kisses.

He'd asked Angel to bring the infant with them, he knew if there was anyone that could get you out of your own head, it would be that baby. He wonders if that’s something you’d want in the future, a child of your own. The two of you have never talked about it but seeing you with Valeria makes him think about it. Noone can ever replace Aiden; his dark eyed little boy will always hold that place in his heart but maybe one day it’ll be something to consider.

He sits down on the couch beside you, planting a tender kiss on Valeria’s forehead before he picks up the green glitter pen and the Santa themed note paper.

“So…” He says as crosses one leg over the others. “What exactly is a letter from Santa supposed to say?”

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#bishop losa #obispo losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa x you #obispo bishop losa #mayans mc #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

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polizwrites · 15 days ago

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On Frozen Pond

This is a fill for the @fluff-cember Alt2 prompt: Fallen Through The Ice as well as the WinterIron Discord monthly bookmark bingo prompt: Cold Toes.

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark Rating: General Tags: Established relationship, Winter, Outdoors, minor hurt/comfort Summary: Tony proves his lack of winter outdoor savvy by venturing onto a not-quite-frozen pond. Luckily, Bucky is there to help.. Word Count: 238 words

“No, Tony! Don’t!” Bucky called out, but it was too late; the snap and crackle of too-thin ice rang in his ears, followed by a thumping sound and some choice curse words.

Having visited his grandparents’ farm in Indiana during several childhood Christmases. Bucky knew how tempting - and deceiving - a frozen pond could be. His boyfriend, born and bred in Southern California, however? He clearly did not. Stifling a curse of his own, Bucky ran over to help.

Thankfully, Tony had only taken a couple of steps out on the ice before it shattered; and he’d fallen backwards toward the shore, so only his feet and calves had gotten wet. “Don’t you dare laugh at me,” he growled, making a face as he scooted himself into a seated position and pulled first one foot, then the other from the muck.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’.” Bucky bit back a grin as he helped Tony to his feet; the stylish boots Tony had bought for their winter getaway were completely soaked through and covered in mud. “Here,” he said, scooping Tony off his feet, “wouldn’t want your feet getting frostbit, tramping back through the snow.”

Tony held the back of one hand to his forehead in a mock-swoon. “My hero,” he declared. “How will I ever reward such gallantry?”

Bucky chuckled in reply. “You can start by keeping your cold toes to yourself when we get in bed tonight.”

#writing stuff #fluffcember 2024 #winteriron #Tony x Bucky #bucky x tony #shameless self promo

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igotanidea · 1 year ago

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Gifts: Dick Grayson x reader

christmas bingo day 12: gifts

***

„I thought we said no presents this year?” Y/N frowned looking at the pile of packages under the tree in her apartment.

„Oh those?” Dick laughed getting up from the floor „all empty, it’s just a decoration. You know, I was raised as an only child in Wayne Manor. I’m used to something more -”

„Dick Grayson, don;t you dare finishing that sentence!” the frown on her face and arms crossed over her chest should have been enough of a warning, but he didn’t really care.

„-lavish.”

As on command, they both looked at Y/N’s old artificial Christmas tree that most definitely saw better times. The branches were shabby and thinned and the balls did really poor job at hiding it. Most of the times she didn’t care about how it looked, focusing rather on creating warm holiday atmosphere and uplifting the spirits, but now, with such comment coming from him and the weight of the world on her shoulders it hit hard. Possibly harder than he ever intended, and stupid unwanted tears brimmed in her eyes.

„Y/N! Oh my god, Y/N, sunshine I didn’t mean-” he stuttered, shocked and terrified by her reaction. „I was just-”

„Well I’m sorry your girlfriend is poor as a church mouse.” she sobbed „i;m sorry your girlfriend cannot afford a lot of things you got used to while living in a billionaire house! I’m sorry I’m a shame and disgrace and -”

„Oh my god.” Dick almost rolled his eyes at her theatricals, reading right through her little performance. ‘You’re a drama queen, you know that?” his hands found a way to her shoulders and pulled her into his chest, his body shaking a little from the laugher she joined soon enough. „Unbelievable.”

„In the best way I hope?” tiniest smirk appeared on her face as she slightly moved away from him and looked up, squinting and tilting her head rakishly.

„You know you are -”

„I swear if you’re going to say I’m your present I might have to kiss you.”

„Oh no! Don’t threaten me with a good time, princess.” he lift her chin with index finger forcing her to look even higher. „I might actually give in and then what?” his eyes flickered „besides, are you sure, you’re not wearing something pretty underneath all those layers just for me? I think I’d like to unwrap my present now....” Dick muttered, purposefully turning his voice deeper, hoarse and sensual adding a little bit of teasing touch here and there trying to make her relent.

„Have you been listening to the Jimmy Fallon’s new Christmas song?” she wriggled out, not without effort and giving him a knowing look before bursting out laughing at the view of his unshameful grin.

„Obviously. Those are masterpieces!”

„There were like two of them Dick...”

„Two masterpieces! Did you listen to them?”

„Please don;t start singing-” her begging was cut short as Dick put on the Spotify playlist and started doing exactly that, making her dance wildly around the apartment.

It's Christmas time, my dear,

And we said no gifts this yearI got one question if you'd let meWhat did you get me?

As Dick got through the last line of the first verse his expectant gaze landed on her.

„I hate Christmas shopping” she chuckled reaching to the cupboard and retrieving a little package. „You know me too well.”

„Cupboard? Really?” he grabbed it in an instant with a grace worthy of a Nightwing, spinning it around and inspecting carefully. „It’s way beyond your level, Y/N. I’m disappointed.”

„Really?” she raised an eyebrow „where did you hide mine?”

„What makes you think -?” she shot him a ice cold gaze and got hands raised in surrender in return „ok, fine! Fine!” he turned towards the storage room grabbing the neatly packed bundle and handing it to her with a bow „milady.”

„Well thank you, fair knight.” she chuckled bowing „hey Dick?”

„Yeah, sunshine?”

„Maybe we should drop the no gifts policy what do think? I can;t remember a single year when we actually stuck to it...”

„Are we both liars then?”

„No. Not at all. I think - but it’s very bold assumption - that we might be in love! Can you believe it!?”

„No way! What makes you say that?!”

„Nothing. Absolutely nothing....” she mumbled a second before his lips met hers in a gentle kiss, replacing all the unnecessary words.

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff #christmas bingo

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