#but at least we can be sad *and* have soup

[soup-soup-soup-soup-soup]

eating (or being) soup should make you happy :(

[alpaca-clouds]

How to cook in a medieval setting

Alright. As some of the people, who follow me for a longer while know... I do have opinions about cooking in historical settings. For everyone else a bit of backstory: When I was still LARPing, I would usually come to LARP as a camp cook, making somewhat historically accurate food and selling it for ingame coin. As such I know a bit about how to cook with a historical set up. And given I am getting so much into DnD and DnD stories right now, let me share a bit for those who might be interested (for example for stories and such).

🍲Cooking at Home

First things first: For the longest time in history most people did not have actual kitchens. Because actual kitchens were rather rare. Most people cooked their food over their one fireplace at home, which looked something like what you see above. There was something made of metal hanging over the fireplace. At times this was on hinges and movable, at times it was set in place. You could hang pots and kettles over it. When it came to pans, people either had a mount they would put over the fire or some kind of grid they could easily put into place there with some sourts of mounts (like the two metal thingies you can see above).

If you have a modern kitchen, you are obviously used to cook on several cooktops (for most people it is probably four of them), while in this historical you obviously only had one fire. Of course, as you can also see in the picture above, you could often put two smaller pots over the flames or put in a pan onto the fire additionally. But yes, the way we cook in modern times is very different.

Because of this a lot of people often ate stews and soups of sort. You could make those in just one pot - and often could eat from the same stew for days. In a lot of taverns the people had an "everything stew" going, which worked on the idea that everyone just brought their food leftovers, which were all put into one pot everyone would eat from.

Now, some alert readers might have also noticed something: What about bread and pastries? If you only have one fireplace and no oven, how did people make bread?

Well, there were usually three different methods for this. The most common one was communal ovens. Often people had one communal oven in a neighborhood. Especially in a village there might just be a communal oven everyone would just put their bread in to bake. (Though often this oven would only be fired up once or twice a week.)

The second version to deal with this some people used was a sort of what we today call a dutch oven. A pot made either of metal or clay with a lit you would put into the hot coals and then put bread or pastries into that, baking it like that.

There was also a version where people just baked bread in pans on the fire, rotating the bread during the baking process. At least some written accounts we have seem to imply. (Never tried this method, though. I have no idea how this might work. My camp bread was mostly done in dutch ovens or as stickbread.)

Keep in mind that the fireplace at home was very important for the people in historical times. Because it was their one source of warmth in the house.

🏕️ Cooking at Camp

Technically speaking cooking at camp is not that different - with the exception of course that you have to drag all your supplies along. And while in Baldur's Gate 3 and most other videogames you can carry around several sets of full-plate armor and several pounds of ingredients so that dear Gale can whip something up... In real life as an adventurer running around you need to make decisions on what to take along.

If you have read Lord of the Rings, you might remember how many people have criticized Sam for actually dragging all his cooking supplies along and how sad he was for not being able to cook for most of the time, because they were very limited in taking ingredients along.

So, yes, if you are an adventurer who is camping out in the open, you will probably need to do a lot of hunting and gathering to eat during your travels. You can take food for a couple of days along, but not for a lot.

A special challenge is of course, that while you can cook food for several days when you are at homes, you do not want to drag along a prepared stew for several days. So usually you will cook in smaller batches.

A lot of people who were journeying would often just take along one or two pots along.

So, what would you eat as an adventurer travelling around while trying to save the world from some evil forces? Well, it would depend on the time of the year of course. You would probably hunt yourself some food. For example hares, birds or squirrels. Mostly small things you can eat within one or two days. You do not want to drag along half a dead deer. In the warm months you might also forrage for all sorts of greens. You also can cook with many sorts of roots. Of course you can also always look into berries and other fruits you might find.

Things you might bring with you might be salt and some spices. A good thing to bring along would be herbs for tea, too, because I can tell you from experience that water you might have gotten from a river does not always taste very well - and springs with fresh water are often not accessible.

Now, other than what you can access the basic ideas of camping fires and cooking with them has not changed in the last few thousand years. While modern people camping usually have a car nearby and hence will have access to a lot of ingredients. But the general ideas of how to build a fire and put a pot over it... has not really changed.

So, yeah.

Just keep in mind that for the most part in historical settings until fairly recently, there was not much terms of proper kitchens. People cooked over an open fire and hence had to get at times ingenius about it.

[shouyuus]

chapter two: tell no tales

roronoa zoro; 3,029 words; fluff and angst, enemies to lovers, slowburn, depressed!zoro, ship therapist!nami, dick!zoro bc he cannot process emotions, no "y/n", trauma bonding

summary: in which zoro starts to believe in ghosts

a/n: hi from the new blog friends! yes, i know it's a little confusing, but please bear with me !! this series is indeed moving to here to the new blog, but the masterlist will live on my old blog till i've got all the links up, and i can reblog onto the new one.

< to the table of contents

The following hours are a blur of bodies and color, the setting sun bleeding out over the distant sky, the tiny island retreating in the distance as the Merry jolts along the choppy waves. Nami’s hand, Luffy’s arm, Usopp offering to take his midnight watch, Sanji pressing a bottle of something and a tray of riceballs into his hands.

Zoro drinks. And drinks. And drinks.

He drinks until the earth sways beneath him in ways he’s certain isn’t just the rocking of the ship. He drinks until the sky pivots above him, seeping into the darkness of his little corner room. He drinks, and he sleeps.

And he dreams of you.

In his dreams, you’re vibrant and laughing, your cheeks full of color, your lips brushed in reds or pinks or purples. You offer him a freshly made mochi, your fingertips dusted in rice flour. He reaches out for it but just before he can take it, the tiny little sweet splits open to reveal a raw, bleeding heart.

Blood trickles between your fingertips, slicking down your arm like pomegranate juice.

Zoro looks up to find you smiling, but there’s blood oozing down the sides of your face, collecting in the dip of your collarbones from a massive gunshot wound to the side of your head.

You cock your head, offering him the bloodied mochi.

“C’mon, take it! Everyone else got one!”

He jerks awake to a quiet knock at his door and Sanji’s muffled voice from the other side.

“Breakfast, mosshead. Made your favorites — grilled mackerel and miso soup and rice. I’ll uh — keep it warm for ya, but not for long, okay?”

Zoro swallows passed the dryness in his throat, closing his eyes and pressing a hand to his face, shielding himself from the bright orange light seeping in from the little window in the corner. After a few more minutes, he swings himself out of bed, dragging his swords with him down the hallway into the kitchen.

Everyone is there, gathered around the hanging table, talking in whispered tones. They all go quiet when Zoro rounds the door, and Usopp clears his throat, leaning back with a forced lightness.

“Seems like we’ll be hitting the next island soon!” he says, eyes darting towards Nami, who sighs and nods.

“Yeah, it’s only a few more days till we get to the next island,” she says, glancing back down at her hands, “then it’s straight up into the Grand Line.”

Zoro nods, dropping into one of the empty seats and pulling the only fully set tray of food towards him. He stares at the carefully arranged items — the fish grilled to skin-crisp perfection, the miso soup still hot enough to steam, the rice fluffy and sweet.

He picks up his chopsticks.

“Good,” he says, his voice too soft, “the faster we get there… the better.”

It’s strange, how Zoro’s never before believed in ghosts. But now, he sees the shadow of you in everything he does. In the swift swish of his swords through the air, in the flutter of wind in the Merry’s sails, in the rhythmic creak of the planks of the main deck.

He thinks of you, of the sadness that had flickered in your eyes the second before Crocodile (or Mr. 0 as he’s known in Baroque Works; they’d since figured out his name and his ranking, but not much else) pressed the gun to your head and pulled the trigger.

He finds himself reliving the moment, sinking into the infinitesimal space between the breath and the gunshot; he searches it as if there might have been clues tucked in the way your throat had caught or the specific way your lashes had fluttered. He thinks, at least, you hadn’t looked scared.

And maybe, that in and of itself is the mercy.

— — —

He sees you again in Mag Mell, a tiny jewel box island tucked along the edges of Paradise. It’s an island of dreamers, of poets and painters, musicians and mystics, with wending streets papered in silver dust, and houses painted in dessert-bright colors, with pearl-gilded roofs, and golden-tipped steeples hung with glittering crystal bells that tolled by the passing hours.

People here sang easily and laughed freely, and it’s all Zoro can do not to look for you around the bend of every street corner, to jolt at every single peal of bright, unabashed laughter.

You would’ve been so happy here — at least the you from his childhood memories. Guilt claws at his insides. He should’ve done more — should’ve tried harder to save you —

So when he does catch glimpse of you, the you that’s been haunting all his all sleepless nights, he isn’t sure if he’s actually dreaming. But how could he be? They’d just docked hours ago — with Sanji and Usopp off shopping for groceries, and Luffy plowing through the market for food, Nami doing… whatever Nami does in cities like these.

At first, he thinks its his eyes playing tricks — his subconscious toying with him in this place that seems so cruelly perfect for the you of his memory, as if his dreams hadn’t been ruthless enough. But then, he hears your voice, and he’s sure it’s you.

He follows you down one twisting alley, and then another, the streets folding over one another like tributaries to a mother stream. Around the third bend, he loses you, and for a frantic moment, he finds himself spinning around himself once, twice, until a thin pair of arms slams him up against the far wall, painted a deep mahogany red.

“What part of don’t follow me are you not understanding?” your voice is nothing more than a hissed breath, tight and angry and pleading, but it’s yours.

The next moment, Zoro has you flipped, pinning you to the opposite wall, this time in a blinding turquoise, his teeth bared, a sword poised at your throat.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks, forcing out the words, his heart a wild, untamed thing beating in his chest, hard enough to sting. His eyes are too wide, searching your face desperately as if looking for a sign, a slip-up that might prove you’re not who you look like you are, and yet —

The wry way your lip twists up has his stomach roiling within him. You stop struggling, tilting your head to look at him in the gather of shadows of the deserted alley.

“What? Forgotten me already? And here I thought dying in front of you would make more of a lasting impression —”

“Exactly,” Zoro bites back, unable to stop his sword from digging into the skin of your neck, a thin line of blood seeping out from beneath your otherwise unmarred skin, “I saw — I watched you —” his throat seizes forcibly over the word die and he struggles for a few seconds before he jerks back, “I watched you get shot.”

You rub at your throat with a ginger hand, drawing it away to stare at the rub of red there, your expression inscrutable.

“Yeah… that you did.”

He whips his sword out to the side before slipping it into its sheath with a dull shink.

You eye it warily, the late afternoon sun creeping into the alley inch by golden inch. It kisses at your toes and creeps up your ankles as you stare at the sword at Zoro’s side.

“That was Kuina’s, wasn’t it?” you ask.

The name slams into Zoro like a gut-punch, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from stumbling.

“So what if it is?” he asks, a quaver to his voice that he almost doesn’t recognize. He turns away from you to stare at the strip of street visible from the darkened alley. A little girl with twin pigtails skips by holding a fistful of multicolored balloons, giggling as a boy races after her, trying to steal one.

“Can’t believe you still have it after all these years.”

“Yeah, well. Call me sentimental,” but his voice is flat, almost sardonic as he turns back to stare at you.

You allow him a helpless grin, “You always were more sentimental than you’d let on. Even when we were kids.”

“You died,” he spits the word out like poison, and you flinch, almost as if struck by it. He takes a deep, steadying breath but makes no move to back down as he asks, “so how the hell are you still here?”

You press your lips, casting your eyes away, your head lowered.

“You’re on a crew with a guy made of rubber — can’t you figure it out?” you ask, rueful and quiet.

Zoro scoffs, “So far as I know, there ain’t no Devil Fruits that can make you immortal.”

You wince again, though when you do speak, there’s a weary humor tacked to the ends of your words.

“You were always smarter than you let on too,” you say, finally looking up, “you’re right. It’s not a Devil Fruit.”

Zoro frowns, unable to keep the intrigue from bubbling up his chest as he watches you.

“Then…” he trails off, waiting.

A golden shaft of sun slants fully into the alley now, finally high enough to hit the side of your face, casting your features into stark relief. Like this, he can see the hollows of your cheeks, the blueness in your lips. But also, the flicker of light that once danced like fireworks behind your eyes.

“It was a deal,” you say, as the sun shifts behind a soft gauzy cloud, tossing the island into a momentary shadow once more, and your face is again shrouded in darkness, “with the Devil himself.”

— — —

“So… you can’t die,” Sanji says, stubbing out what must be his fifth cigarette since the beginning of the conversation.

A half-finished dinner service lays in an array of dishes before you, but even Luffy isn’t reaching out to pick at the remains.

You shake your head, “No, that’s the thing — I can. I just don’t tend to stay dead.”

Nami frowns, “But how does that even work? You get killed, and what — you just… respawn?”

You sigh, letting out a tired laugh, “Something like that. I die, and I wake up the next morning exactly in the last place I went to sleep.”

“Whoa, weird,” says Luffy, finally reaching for the remains of a whole roast chicken, stuffing a drumstick into his mouth.

You nod, “Very.”

Usopp is chewing on his bottom lips, looking concerned, “But… I mean — when you do d-die… does it still hurt?”

You slowly pivot to stare at him, your expression carefully neutral.

Beside you, Zoro shifts slightly, and everyone goes strangely still as they wait for your answer.

“Sometimes,” you say, carefully, “if the person killing me decides to make it hurt.”

Sanji leans back, staring up at the broad canopy of stars above the deck of the Merry.

The silence that stretches over the table is fraught with implication. Eventually, you let out a long breath, leaning back in your chair.

“But you get used to it after a while,” you say, the shadow of a smile quirking your lips.

Zoro narrows his eyes, “You make it sound easy.”

His voice is hard, his gaze fixed on a point just over Luffy’s shoulder. Beneath the low dip of his unbuttoned shirt, you can still see the remains of the scar Mihawk had left him with. No doubt he was remembering his own close tangle with death.

You lilt your head and roll your shoulders.

“What they don’t tell you about dying is that it’s the easiest thing… but easy doesn’t mean painless,” your voice is light and airy and painfully frivolous, “eventually, easy just means that at least… you know it’ll end.”

Across the table, Sanji lets out a breath as Nami gasps. Luffy purses his lips.

“But… as long as you fall asleep in a safe place, then even if you die, you’ll just wake up there again, right?” he asks.

You fix him with a look, before letting out a helpless laugh.

“Yeah, something like that. The only thing is — when you’re working for the big-bads, they tend to make sure you only ever fall asleep somewhere they can get their hands back on you.”

“But you’re with us now!” Luffy grins, puffing out his chest, “so we’ll make sure you stay alive without having to uh — die first. Good?”

Others might only see childish innocence in his words, but you can see the absolute certainty he evokes in the rest of his crew. And that, more than anything else, makes you believe him.

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah, okay.”

Zoro grunts as he gets up from the table, stalking off without another word. Nami sighs, watching him go before rolling her eyes and going after him.

Sanji strikes a match and lights up a new cigarette.

“Let him be. He was real beat up after seeing you —” Sanji dips his head, “well, you know. And he’s not what you’d call super in touch with his emotions, I think.”

He shoots you a good-natured wink.

You laugh, a tired, rubbed-raw sound, nodding.

“Yeah. I know.”

Sanji taps off a bit of ash and leans forward, “So — what’s the story?”

“What makes you think there’s a story?”

Sanji blows out a series of smoke rings before reaching over to refill your glass, “Mosshead’s not exactly known for makin’ friends wherever he goes, if you know what I mean,” he slides you smile before continuing, “so if he’s this —” Sanji pauses to cast about for a proper word, “attached… to someone, I figured there’s just gotta be a story, right love?”

You sigh, nodding as you take a long sip of your drink, savoring the coolness as it slides down your throat.

“You’re right… there is a story. But I’m not sure it matters much anymore. We’re both…” you look down at your hands, pale and pink in the fading firelight, “not the kids we used to be.”

Sanji shrugs, “Neither is any of us,” he coaxes, voice gentle, “but that doesn’t mean the kids that we were don’t matter any more.”

You nod, finally allowing the warmth of the fire to wash over you as you sit back in your chair.

“Alright then — it was a long time ago but… we grew up in the same village…”

— — —

“Hey — where’re you going?” Nami catches up with Zoro just beneath the main deck, the hallway scattered with pinpricks of light, seeping in through the cracks in the planks above.

Zoro spins around, his shoulders hunched.

“To be alone.”

Nami sighs, stopping a few steps short of him.

“What’s with you? Aren’t you happy that your — your friend is alive?”

Zoro bears down on Nami, his eyes flashing.

“I don’t trust her — what if it’s not her? What if it’s a —” he waves a hand through the thickening darkness between them, “an imposter?”

Nami’s eyebrows kick up, “What, finally get your hands on a dictionary in Mag Mell?”

“Fuck you.”

Nami laughs, folding her arms as she leans up against the darkened hallway wall.

“Fine, you don’t trust her — but what else can we do? Leave her here for Crocodile and the rest of Baroque Works to catch up to her?”

Zoro tsks, turning around to pace the length of the hallway, every muscle in his body feeling tight and wrung out.

“Wouldn’t matter much — she can’t die remember?”

“Yes, she can,” Nami says, her words harsh enough to stun Zoro still. She stalks up to him, her eyes blazing in the imminent dark. “You’ve almost died once — tell me, was it a pleasant experience?”

A muscle ticks in Zoro’s jaw, but he keeps his mouth clamped shut.

He remembers it in pieces, in fever-break moments and mind-numbing delusions. He remembers the bone-deep ache that had seemed to permeate every inch of his body, of the dull pounding in his head as he tried to piece together what his crewmates were saying to him, sitting by his bedside. He’d known they were there, but he’d couldn’t let them know, couldn’t force him limbs to move the way he wanted.

It had been nothing short of agony.

“Look, I’m not asking you to trust her but at least think — think about the life she would’ve led in Baroque Works. What they might’ve made her do if they knew that every time she died, she’d just wake up in the last place she fell asleep.”

Like this, Nami’s voice is soft, almost silken. A spate of unease slithers down Zoro’s spine.

Zoro stares down at her. It hadn’t been so long ago that he’d regarded Nami with the same kind of vague distrust.

“Think for a second, about the suicide missions they would’ve made her take.”

Those words ring through Zoro like a death knell, and he takes half a step back, his head spinning with the implications. She’s right, he hadn’t thought of the life you’d led; he’d been so caught up on the vast dissonance between the person you were and the person you'd become. He’d been so tangled in his own feelings of shame and anger that he hadn’t paused to think.

Nami sighs and takes a few more steps back.

“I mean. You heard her — just because dying is easy, that doesn’t make it painless.”

“I just —” Zoro closes his eyes, letting a clenched fist thump softly against the wall beside him. A terrible, hot prickling sensation is working its way up the back of his throat, constricting his airways. He swallows hard around it before turning to look at Nami once more.

“I just can’t stand the thought of losing her again.”

Nami lets out a breathy laugh, bobbing her head once. There’s still a steely light to her eyes, but her voice when she finally does speak is soft —

“Then make sure it doesn’t happen again. I mean, what are those three swords for anyway?”

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[bunji-enthusiast]

Requester ⇨ [Hi this is my first time. Can I ask for Lancelot and Tristan (separately) with sassy bubbly s/o who they’ve known their whole life and how their relationship is like. If it’s not to much could you add their nicknames for each other and the cute things they do for their s/o Thank you.]

Heyyyy! Happy to be the very first one you requested! We can always depend on these two boys for the fluff :D also sorry if you see the way my posts are set up, I'm trying to find something to work with that I feel okay with.

Content || grammar errors, sassy banter, fluff, headcanons, gender-neutral reader.

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢 (𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗!)

Tristan generally loves you very much, even before the two of you were official! But every time you exude such a sassiness that he cannot, he can't help but laugh. The prince of Liones he may be, but you can just call him the prince of laughter. He can't help it, it sets him off every time!

There is one main similarity between the both of you, and that is your bubbly sides. Lots of your friends and even both your families just make major comparisons this way, which you never seem to hear the end of. Tristan however just loves when you can seem so happy, kind and full of life.

The one strengthening factor behind your relationship, is that you two have known each other for as long you can remember since childhood and even into your teenage years. Tristan knows every little detail; what you like, what you dislike, what you hate and your favorite memories. He can't really help but be in-love with every single aspect of you.

Tristan does worry quite a lot when you are out on missions, but he does often get reminded about how resilient you can be - especially with the amount of comments you make in combat. The nephilim is still left with worry though even when you do come back; did you get injured, burned, or imprisoned? the amount of things run ample through his mind enough.

He is a very avid and proud lover, just like his father. Though he is less perverted, as he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. Tristan always likes to be very open about his love toward you, even if he does find himself with a blushing expression.

with all lovers, there is a connection that trescends the apparent obvious understanding. The way you know Tristan like the back of your hand when he is happy, or worried. The way he knows you when you are bashful or even sad.

He is unusually reminded and wonders if you have a lack of moral guidance when you are quite sassy, not even barring to hold back the blunt words that spill from your lips towards enemies and knights of chaos. Tristan wonders just what had happened to you when he had not been around in each other's earlier years.

Even if there are things about yourself that your insecure, Tristan is that kind of boy that will love all your insecurities for you. He has enough love going around, so he will love those as well. The prince will not take your self-deprecation if he doesn't at least refute it every time with a compliment, he hates when you see yourself that way.

In the privacy of his room, he certainly sees a side to you that no one else would be able to. You're far more soft and albeit grumpier when sleepy, but lots and lots of cuddles ensue, though somewhat whine and complain that he can be a bit cold.

If you end up sick, he just ruffles and pats your hair when you complain about it with snarky and sassy comments. But he won't just stop there, Tristan will help you work through it. Soup, warm cloth and even drawing you a bath.

Sometimes in tense moments, just to stay grounded, you two mouth to one another: 'I love you'. It generally helps, quite a lot. As he does find emotions difficult to deal with often, but just saying that alone helps him stay tethered to the earth.

This nephilim loves, loves, loves to give you gifts. In about anything, he finds that reminds him of you is something he will give to you as a gift. Tristan does hope that you don't find this annoying though, he just cares about you very much.

He knows you can defend yourself when being insulted, so when you fire one right back -- he just smiles. Tristan can't help but be proud, he doesn't know why but he just is. He loves when you don't just take it, and defend yourself (if verbally, or even physically).

Tristan loves holding hands with you if possibly, only particularly at appropriate times. The prince is very huge on PDA, and loves being affectionate with you. Though he often hears a lot of jesting from you whilst you hold hands with him, Tristan knows, and just grins.

You most likely lead half the conversations, seemingly always able to find something to say. He doesn't mind, and occasionally gives input when he feels he needs too. He isn't an avid talker most of the time, and tends to be quite formal anyway, so he just opts for listening to you. There are always jokes in each and every one of your conversations, your the one making them.

In the more quiet moments, Tristan and you will dance together. Maybe even bumble over each other's footsteps and laugh about it, and touching each other's foreheads and talking about things that bother you or things that brightened your day.

However, it doesn't mean your the only talker. Tristan may be quiet when you talk, but he can have a lot of things to say as well. Though he always just wants you to know he's actually listening to the things your saying.

Tristan isn't much of a nickname giver, but he does have many affectionate nicknames he reserves just for you alone; angel, darling, my love, and my light.

However the nicknames he has for you when you are being completely sassy are different; grizzly, my little philosopher, biscuit, and sunshine. However he always means them with love, he swears! Tristan generally just calls you these nicknames, and you just get even sassier. He loves it.

The two of you play into each other's playful sides, which can be a bit worse for wear, but it always ends up with memories you can look back on with fondness.

You two can quite literally be the perfect match for eachother, considering how laid-back and playful he can be at times, so the both of you are always met with back and forth comments from one another. Sometimes, there is a point to where the others are still surprised that you both have the energy to behave toward each other in such a way.

Lancelot does admire your more bubbly aspects however, and somewhat envies you for it. He wishes he can still have that energy, back to his earlier years of childhood with you. Lancelot can't match it as easily anymore, but he is reminded very fondly every time that side of you comes out. His gaze always lingers on you, not daring to stray for as long as possible, he always wants to burn those expressions into memory.

Beyond the relationship, even before knowing you, he feels a deep sense of despair as if something will happen. Something beyond his control, he feels that with each and every person he comes to hold dear of course. But with you, it delves even deeper, even more worse than before. Lancelot feels at a loss when this feeling surfaces, reminding him of previous failures (lance, please be kind to yourself). He is unsure when this sentiment truly comes to pass. Sometimes even with your sunshine, he still is reminded.

Whenever and however, if Lancelot ends up being the victim of your sassy comments, he just shrugs it off and continues the conversation. It just often shocks others as he usually is quick to bite back, but it didn't happen this time around, not with you.

It helps wholly, that he had known you for as long as he could remember. So even before being official, Lancelot can remember even the most seemingly insignificant details about you. Anything that he remembers, is something he considers of large importance after all. So maybe one day your met with a gift, something you mention offhandedly you liked, just one time. He looks away and says it was just something he saw on the way back, Lancelot will not admit he actually remembered that.

He isn't necessarily a touchy person compared to his father, but Lancelot will hold your hand if you wanted to, with very grumpy comments. You just tease him when he does accept it, to which he just lazily refutes.

Lancelot will defend you if you happen to be insulted, but if you do end up defending yourself, he happily accepts that with a proud-ass smile. He knows you can defend yourself verbally, but the comments you fire right back inspire him. New material for insults.

Often, he ends up cooking for you. You will not find him actually willingly doing that for anyone else, but you alone. Lancelot remembers few of your favorite recipes off the top of his head, so he cooks the appropriate meal concurrent with the time of the day. He definitely had inherited his ability to cook so well from his father, but had made it even better the more he had cooked.

On missions, he tends to worry about you. Out of habit, as he doesn't want anyone he cares about to get hurt, will shadow you the best he can. If he is able to of course, other times he will simply have to trust that you can take care of yourself and come back okay.

Lancelot is a quiet and subtle lover, but you can very much tell easily how much he loves you through acts of service (I will continuously iterate that he is an acts of service lover, sue me). He often will do chores on your behalf, or even patrol with you as often as he can, he can't really find himself doing anything else otherwise lest he actually has something he needs to prioritize.

Sometimes he actually hates that you can understand him, like 'how or why do you know this about me so easily?' You should be far away from his heart. Yet, you wormed so far in and deeply into his heart that he cares for you in a way he would no one else. Lancelot in turn does understand you as well as you do him, so he can catch even the smallest things. Example for telling, that subtle shift in your demeanor.

Such subtle things aren't left unnoticed by either you or Lancelot. maybe his jaw is clenched for some reason, you lightly tell him to unclench. He does. What if your hand was tightened and formed into a fist? Lancelot gently taps the knuckle of your hand with the back of his finger, curled in a way of subtle worry.

It's as if a complete shift in your demeanor when you are insecure (be it very few, or plenty), he will softly tell you something completely positive as an opposite. Lancelot finds it reassuring he was born with the ability to read hearts, i.e the mind in extension. Your thoughts are something that are much easier to read when you have bouts of these moments, and it is much easier for him to help you through it. He understands in a way, but hopes that you can overcome such insecurities one day.

[kangaroosmile]

Rainy hike, warm bath, soft kisses - Bang Chan

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description: After a rainy hike with Chan, Seungmin and Jisung, Chan invites you to his apartment because you are cold and he has a bathtub. After that confessions happen.

pairing: Bang Chan × gnreader

genre: friends to lovers; they like eachother but don't get it; confessions, soft making out

word count: ~2,3 k

You can find more of my stories under Stray Kids Masterlist

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“I told you we should have taken the other hiking trail down. It would have been way faster”, whined Jisung behind you. Chan, who was right in front of you, looked back, his hood nearly falling off.

“This is the safer option, Sung.”

“Just for your information, my socks are wet”, announced Seungmin from behind Jisung. You started to laugh.

“Mine too.” And with this all three men started to laugh. When you started your hike early in the morning, the sun was still shining but just as you had half of the distance behind you, it started to rain. At first it wasn't much but soon the intensity increased. Now 2 hours later you all were soaking wet.

“We should be at our car in about 15 minutes”, announced Chan after looking at his phone. Seungmin, Jisung and you made a loud “yay” sound, which had Chan laughing but still shaking his head.

When you finally reached Chan's car, you hurried to get in.

“How could the forecast mess up so much? It wasn't supposed to rain till next week”, whined Jisung, taking off his shoes and socks to dry them a bit. As he did, you turned up the temperature but still shivered.

“There will be some traffic jam”, muttered Seungmin, his eyes glued to his phone. You let out a sigh and rubbed your arms to try and warm you up a bit.

“I'm hungry.” You couldn't hold back and started to giggle.

“You sound like a child Jisung”, laughed Chan but then looked briefly at you. “There should be some snacks in the gloves box. Can you look?” You opened the gloves box carefully and took out a few protein bars. Your mouth twisted for a second. It wasn't like you hated protein bars but you didn't like the consistency that many protein bars had. You gave Jisung and Seungmin each one bar and opened one for yourself. Just as you were ready to take the first bite you could hear Chan making a soft sound. You eyes him from the side, let out a sigh and held the bar in front of his mouth. With a light giggle he bit into the protein bar and began to chew.

“Not even a thank you? And I thought you were a gentlemen”, you muttered under your breath but loud enough to be heard, holding back a grin that was starting to spread on your lips.

“Thank you”, he mumbled with his mouth still full.

“Hyung, you are so disgusting! Don't talk with your mouth full”, Seungmin laughed and reached forward to close Chan's mouth. As Chan and Seungmin continued this little fight, you laid back and began to eat your own protein bar. At least the consistency was somewhat manageable.

When Chan stopped the car in front of Seungmins and Jisungs apartment complex, you still felt cold.

“Say hi to Minho and tell him to make you some hot soup”, said Chan, looking back at the two men. Jisung started to laugh.

“You know him, Hyung. He probably already did it but gonna act like it's nothing.”

“And he is gonna nag about us going out on a hike today”, Seungmin continued with a soft smile on his lips and a certain warmth in his voice.

“It's so sweet but disgusting at the same time”, you commented with a laugh and only a few would notice that it was actually a sad, longing one. You felt Chan's glance on you but chose to ignore it. Chan waited until the door to their apartment complex felt shut behind Seungmin and Jisung. For a moment you two stayed silent.

Chan turned towards you a bit in his seat.

“Are you still cold?” You nodded slowly as you rubbed your hands together.

“Should have put on something more warming”, you sighed. Chan started the car.

“If you want you can come with me. You can take a bath that will warm you up and after that I will drive you home. What do you think?” He was saying it so casually but you noticed his fingers drumming against the wheel, giving him away. But why would he be even nervous, you thought.

“Won't your girlfriend find it weird when another person takes a bath in your bathtub?” You thought you said something wrong when Chan kept silent, but them he let out a low sigh, as he rubbed his neck.

“We broke up a couple of weeks ago”, he whispered. “So no need to think about her.” His words made you speechless for a moment.

“What?” He looked at you for a second before he focused his eyes back on the street. “Why… didn't you tell me? We have been friends for ages.” Friends… that's all you ever gonna be, you had to remind yourself. Even though you sometimes wished for more. Chan let out a short laugh which didn't sound real. He stayed silent for a moment, it seemed to you as if he was trying to find the right words.

“Well… I guess it was never really the right time. I didn't want to bother you with this when I knew you had a lot on your mind because of work.” Your hand found Chan's shoulder softly patting it.

“That's really kind of you but you could never bother me, Channie”, you muttered. Chan hummed at that and looked at you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. “Please come to me next time when something happens. Just because you are older, doesn't mean you have to keep everything to yourself.”

Chan stopped at the parking lot in front of his apartment complex but instead of getting out he leaned over the central console and pulled you into a hug. It was so out of the blue you started to laugh at his action but soon you melted into his hug.

“You really are cold. Let's get you inside”, Chan whispered as he backed away and opened the door. You followed him and together you walked into his apartment complex. Everything was still the same. Well it wasn't that long ago that you were last here but it had been at least 3 months. You placed your shoes next to Chans.

“You can already start the water. I will look for some clothes you can wear and also a towel.” With a short nod you agreed and nearly sprinted to his bathroom to start the water. The sound of the water made you feel calm. As you watched the water get higher and higher in the small tube, Chan knocked at the bathroom door.

“Can I come in?” As You turned, you hummed and watched as Chan opened the door. He held his hands out and you grabbed the pile.

“Thanks, Channie”, you said with a smile that Chan returned. For a moment he stayed where he was. “Chan?”, you asked with a light chuckle. You weren't sure but it seemed as if Chans ears were getting redder. He muttered something under his breath which sounded like an apology and escaped his bathroom. This was a bit strange, you thought as you watched him leave. You pulled your still slightly wet clothes off your skin and got into the warm bath. You let out a low hum and closed your eyes for a moment.

It took a while but slowly your feets were getting warmer again. Then suddenly there was a knock on the door.

“Chan?”, you ask confused.

“I'm sorry… I need to take my medicine now and I forget to take them out before you got in.” Without even seeing him, you knew he was embarrassed. “Can I come in?” You felt a sudden rush of panic rise up in you. You sat up and turned your back towards the door. Only your head and shoulders were over the water.

“Come in”, you shouted after a deep breath and a few seconds later you heard the door.

“Really, I'm sorry I didn't take them with me”, he muttered as he started to go through his bathroom cabinet. You started to giggle. How absurd this situation was. When you turned your face to watch him, you saw his red ears but also the wide smile on his face. “This situation is kinda strange isn't it?”

“It is”, you laughed and smiled at him when his eyes found yours. For a moment you two just stared at each other.

“Did the bath warm you up?”, he asked as he turned towards you a bit. Maybe you should find it strange that he still was in the bathroom, but you didn't.

“Yes it did. Thanks again for inviting me”, you said. “I will probably get out soon.” This got Chan moving again, as if he forgot you were sitting in the bathtub naked. He coughed and turned around.

“Sure. I will be in the living room.” With that he went out, closing the door quietly behind him. You let out a sigh as you stood up and got out of the bathtub. You patted yourself dry and got into Chans clothes. It felt oddly domestic having his clothes in your body. You let it a sigh as you watched yourself in the mirror. You left the bathroom, finding Chan in his small living room. When you entered he looked up from his phone some words already on his lips but he stopped.

“What?”, you asked with a light laugh on your lips, looking down on the slightly bigger shirt and shorts. “I know it's too big but at least it's comfy.”

“You didn't ask why we broke up”, he muttered all of the sudden, looking at everything but you. This took you by surprise.

“I thought because you didn't tell me before you didn't want to talk about why you broke up.” You walked up to him and sat down next to him. “Why did you two break up?” Instead of answering directly he grabbed one of the pillows and started to play with it.

“Well you see… I really liked her but there was still somebody on my mind. Somebody that was not her”, he started to explain. “And I really tried to forget that person but I couldn't and my Ex noticed that. We talked about it and broke up.” You let out a hum and nodded. As you looked at Chan, you noticed that he was holding back. It seemed like he wanted to say more but he didn't.

“There is more, right?” Slowly he nodded. “Will you tell me?”

“That somebody…”, he began but stopped for a second. “That somebody is you.” Saying that you were surprised was an understatement. You were speechless, didn't know what to reply. All of this time he also liked you? “And I… I know that you most certainly don't feel the same. And that's alright. Maybe it's a bit selfish but I just needed to get this off my chest.” He rambled, still playing with the pillow in his lap. “You just looked so… like home right now. As if we were in a relationship. And… I just needed to tell you this.” Slowly, very slowly to not scare him, you placed your hands on his and noticed that his hands were shaking the tiniest bit.

“You know”, you began to speak, forcing yourself to stay calm. “You are wrong.” Carefully you rubbed over the outside of his hand. His eyes found yours and he looked so confused.

“What?”, he asked quietly.

“You are wrong when you say, you know I don't have feelings for you. I do have feelings for you and that for an awful long time, if I'm honest.” His eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. Slowly, without looking, he placed the pillow to the side.

“Can I kiss you?” You didn't answer him, instead you leaned in and placed your lips on his. You felt his hands that found their ways towards your cheeks, cupping them. For you that wasn't enough. You needed him closer. You placed your hand on his side and slightly pulled it towards you which he understood and closed the distance between you two. He let out a low hum when you started to carry his back with your fingertips and deepened the kiss. You didn't know someone could be so passionate but still so careful and soft.

Sadly you two were still human beings that needed air to live so you parted but only a few centimetres. You felt his warm breath on your lips which sent shivers down your spine. You let out a sigh and leaned your forehead against his.

“It feels like a dream”, he whispered under his breath, a soft smile on his lips. A light laugh escaped your lips.

“Then this is a dream I never want to wake up from”, you answered as you leaned in again and gave him a short kiss.

“Stay tonight?”, asked Chan after the kiss.

“Is this a question or a statement?” You tried to sound serious but soon you started to giggle. He gave you a soft slap against your knee, which had you laughing even harder. All Chan did was pout.

“I will stay”, you answered his question. “And now stop the pouting, Channie.”

“Only if I get another kiss”, he answered with tinted cheeks. And who were you to deny his sweet request? So you gave him another soft kiss and honestly you could do this forever.

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Thank you for reading. I hope you are now again as delulu as I am haha. 💕

[buckyispunk]

Aloha

Aloha part one ~ Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (no use of Y/N), read part two here!

masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You arrive at a Hawaiian resort for your ex's wedding and a man named Bucky buys you a drink. You proceed to spend the next day with him, getting to know him and his friends.

A/N: New series! There will probably be five or so parts, with much more smut, angst, and fluff to come :) let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this series!

Warnings: unwanted touching (not by Bucky), dom!bucky, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, spitting, choking, orgasm delay/denial, oral (f receiving), fingering, drinking, Bucky's got a filthy mouth

Word Count: 11k

Fucking Brock. You sit on the couch staring at the little cardstock rectangle in disbelief.

Join us in celebrating Brock and Marisssa’s special day! surrounded by hibiscus flowers and a tropical design. The flowery invitation theme makes sense when you read that the wedding is in Hawaii. 

You hadn’t seen Brock in years. Three, to be exact. It had been in the soup aisle of the grocery store.

You had been reaching for a can of tomato paste to make spaghetti to eat alone in your little apartment. You looked a mess, having stopped at the store on your way home from a long day of work. You heard him call your name - his nonchalant, egotistical voice recognizable anywhere. 

“Oh my god, how’ve you been? It’s been too long!” He had said, as if he had made any attempts to reach out to you - or had any desire to - since you had broken up. 

“Oh,” you turned around to face him, “fine, you?”

“I’m doing great! Just here to buy some soup for my girlfriend, she’s been under the weather lately.”

Not even a minute into conversation and he’d mentiioned his new girlfriend. You had just broken up two months before. You tried your best to keep the look of shock and sadness from your face. How had he moved on so quick? Did your almost four year relationship meant so little to him? 

You managed to give a small noncommittal smile and nod. He wasn’t paying enough attention to you to notice anyway, grabbing a couple of cans of chicken noodle soup and turning back the way he came. 

“We should get together and catch up sometime!” he had shouted over his shoulder as he walked away.

That was the last time you had seen him. It wasn’t like the two of you were on bad terms or anything. The break up had been civil - civil as a breakup can be, anyway. You and Brock had begun dating in your freshman year of college. One day, in the middle of you and Brock’s senior year, he sat you down and said he needed to talk to you. He said that you were great and he’d always have a special place in his heart for you, but he just couldn’t picture himself with you for the rest of his life - so there’s no point in wasting anymore time, as he had put it. To be honest, you didn’t disagree.

You had been unhappy towards the end of the relationship. You could tell that Brock was distancing himself and the two of you got in little fights almost every day. You knew it wasn’t going to work out, but it had still left a huge hole in your heart. Brock was a big part of your life every day for four years, then all of a sudden he was just gone. A big piece of you was missing and you had to rebuild it yourself. Turns out Brock rebuilt that piece with another girl. If he ever had a piece that needed rebuilding in the first place, that is. 

You really had wanted to stay friends with him after the breakup, or at least remain civil with him. He had never reached out after that day in the grocery store and you had no desire to reach out to him - you had healed yourself and decided you were better off without him. 

You sit on the couch running your fingers over the rough material, rereading the words over and over again, trying to make sense of it all. You really don’t care that Brock is getting married, it’s not like you want him back or anything. But, at the same time, you weren’t necessarily chomping at the bit to go watch him and his fiancee celebrate their special day. 

A vacation did sound nice, though. You’d always wanted to go to Hawaii. Plus, you figured some of you and Brock’s friends from college would be in attendance. The two of you had been in the same friend group when he asked you out. You lost touch with the friend group after the break up. You would see some of them in passing or in classes and share small talk, but you had stopped getting invitations to hang out with them. You weren’t one to hold a grudge, though, and it would be nice to see them again. 

You mull it over for a little while before deciding that it would be a good move on your part to go, show Brock that you were still on good terms with him and that him getting married doesn’t bother you. You could take a break from work and get some much-needed sun and relaxation. You RSVP and check no, you will not be bringing a plus one.  

The months leading up to the wedding follow the same, monotonous routine. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. Occasionally your coworkers would drag you out to the bar after work and you would go - desperate to feel some sort of belonging. Despite your efforts over the years, you had never gotten close with any of the girls at work. You got along with them okay, but you wouldn’t exactly call them your friends. Acquaintances was a more fitting term.

You do, however, have one best friend. The only issue is that she lives almost a thousand miles away. You had moved to New York for school and she had stayed back home in Illinois. You stay in contact with her and your family. Most days, talking to them makes you more homesick than anything else. You’d considered moving back more than once, but had ultimately decided against it each time - you’re scared to look like a failure. You don’t want to come running back home at the first signs of struggle. You want to prove to everyone back home that you can make it in the big city by yourself. 

As the days go by, you find yourself looking forward to the special day. Not because of the wedding, but because you’re ready to escape the numb hell that your life has become. The wedding is on a Friday. You’re flying in on Monday and leaving Sunday morning. Six nights at the tropical resort Brock and Marissa have picked. 

It’s the Sunday night before you leave. Your bags are packed and waiting by the door. Sleep comes easy, knowing that by this time tomorrow you’ll be drinking cocktailas at a pool-side bar, free from work stress and city traffic. Away from the city where you feel lonely among millions of people.

Usually when the ear-piercing, dread instilling sound of your alarm rings, you hit the snooze button and pull the covers tighter in attempt to hang on to your last moments of comfort and peace - or as close as you can get to that, these days. Today, however, is different. When you hear the all-too familiar noise coming from your phone, it leaves you with a feeling of excitement rather than depression. 

You sit up, smile on your face, and get ready for the day. After showering and putting on your comfiest plane clothes, you grab your bags and head outside. You hail a taxi and can’t even bring yourself to be upset when he doesn’t offer to help you with your luggage. You smile the whole way to the airport.

I repeat, flight DL4567 is delayed by two hours. Boarding will begin at 12:10.

The universe has found a way to put you in a bad mood again. You’re certain whatever higher power there is had sent this sudden thunderstorm just for you. You look at your phone to check the time - 9:45. You had been sitting here for an hour already. The hard chair is starting to get uncomfortable, so you decide to get your second cup of coffee for the morning. You stand and grab your luggage, making your way to the end of the Starbucks line. You order your go-to drink and some breakfast.

Once you get your coffee and food you find a little table to sit at and pull out your book. You find yourself enthralled in your book and the time flies. A voice over the loudspeaker breaks you out of your trance. 

Flight DL4567 now boarding. 

You snap your book shut and clean up your table. You grab your bags and head back to your gate. After waiting in line for a little while, you finally take your seat on the plane. You put in your earbuds and watch the grey clouds outside - thankful you got a window seat. By the time the plane starts moving, you’re smiling again and counting down the time until your arrival. 

You spend the first five hours of your flight reading and watching TV - you’re pleasantly surprised to see that they have your favorite show. Sometime after they serve lunch, you fall asleep. When you wake up, there’s only two hours left until arrival. 

You watch the fluffy clouds outside your window and find that time passes quickly when you think about all the things you want to do in Hawaii. You also find that the time passes impossibly slow when you let your mind drift to New York and all your responsibilities. How is it that you haven’t even landed in Hawaii yet and you’re already dreading returning back home?

You see the beaches and the luscious green that fill the ground beneath you. You take in all the sights as best you can as you get closer and closer to the ground, preparing for landing. Your ears hurt slightly from the pressure change, but you’ve got other things on your mind.

After waiting some more to get your luggage, you finally manage to get on a shuttle and you’re on your way to the resort. You watch the mountains in the distance and the palm trees on the drive. You’re listening to your playlist through your earbuds and this is the happiest you’ve felt in a while. You could get used to this, you think. 

Your jaw drops when you pull up to the hotel. The huge building is right on the beach. Sure, that’s what it had said online, but the real thing it’s even more staggering in person than it had been in the pictures. The sun beats down on you as soon as you step out of the shuttle, but there’s a nice breeze that makes it enjoyable. A worker hands you your bags from the back of the bus and you thank him. You roll them inside the resort, eyes widening even more when you see the inside of the place. You can’t wait to get your bags in your room and explore. 

The receptionist is nice as can be and tells you to enjoy your stay as she hands you your key cards - like you’ll be needing more than one. You wheel your luggage into the elevator and press the number five. You’re astonished by the view when you step into your room. Your balcony faces the beach and you can see mountains in the distance. The evening sun is still shining bright and there’s not a cloud in the sky. 

It’s just after seven o’clock by the time you’re done changing. You head down to the main floor and set off to explore. There’s a spa, an indoor and outdoor bar, a pool, a hot tub, a gym, and a restaurant. You decide to hit the outdoor bar and enjoy the last of the daylight. 

You slide into a barstool. The warmth of the sun and the refreshing sea-side breeze, along with a couple cocktails, quickly put you into a relaxed headspace. You’d been looking forward to this for so long and it’s definitely all you’d imagined it would be. 

The resort is pretty full, but not to the point where it gets on your nerves. The bar is occupied by a group of girls who look a little younger than you and some married couples.

You’re just finishing your second drink when something catches your attention - a loud, boisterous laugh coming from the other end of the bar. You lean forward to see a group of guys you hadn’t noticed before. The laugh comes from a man with chocolatey, smooth skin. He’s sitting with a gigantic blond man who is currently looking down at the bartop and shaking his head, a half smile on his face. The last man, though, is what makes you do a double take. 

He’s got dark, fluffy hair. Though his stubble tries to hide it, you notice his sharp jawline. His shoulders are broad and his biceps stretch the sleeve of his t-shirt. He’s smiling, pearly white teeth on display. You find that you’re still watching him as he brings a bottle of beer to his lips and takes a swig. 

You’re only snapped out of your trance when he looks in your direction. You quickly divert your eyes, but you aren’t quick enough. He catches your gaze for the briefest of seconds. You might be imagining things, but you swear you see the corner of his mouth curl up into a smile before he looks back to his friends - still laughing and yelling about something.

The sun has finally set and you decide on having one more of the fun, tropical drinks before heading up to your room. 

You prepare to flag down the bartender, surprised when you find him already stopping in front of you, one of the cocktails you’d been drinking in hand. 

“Courtesy of the gentleman at the other end of the bar.”

You quickly thank the bartender and look back to the other end of the bar where the group of guys had been sitting. They’re the only men sitting at that end of the bar.

The brunette is already looking at you. He gives you a million dollar smile and shoots you a wink before he turns, following his friends back into the hotel.

You sit in shock for a solid minute, replaying the wink over and over in your mind. Sure you’ve got a solid buzz and you haven’t been laid in a long time, but even if that wasn’t the case, you’re sure it would’ve been just as sexy. You’re only slightly ashamed of the small amount of wetness you feel in your panties.

You down the free drink and head back into the hotel. On your way to the elevator, you notice the man that’s been occupying your thoughts for the last 30 or so minutes standing at the reception desk. His hair is wet and his clothes are soaking through. 

You quickly make your way to the elevator and repeatedly press the up arrow. You’re not sure where the sudden embarrassment is coming from, but your cheeks are red and you don’t want him to see you right now. 

Unfortunately for you, you hear footsteps behind you and turn to find the same piercing blue eyes you had met across the bar staring back at you. 

“Friends stole all the towels out of my room,” he tells you, holding up a stack of fresh ones.

Well that explains why he was at the reception desk, also why he’s soaking wet. 

“Oh,” you manage a small chuckle as you look down at your feet. 

You can’t help but feel embarrassed when he’s looking at you so intently, like you’re the only thing on his mind right now. It doesn’t help that he’s one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen and he’s talking to you of all people. 

You force yourself to meet his eyes again, “Thank you, um, for the drink earlier,” you manage in a somewhat steady voice. 

 “Course, doll,” another smile. 

The elevator doors finally open and he extends his arm, “After you.”

He follows you into the elevator and presses the number five. 

“What floor are you on?” he turns, waiting for your response.

“Same as you, apparently,” you smile up at him. 

You weren’t close enough to tell before, but he’s tall. At least six feet. 

“I’m Bucky, by the way. Sorry ‘bout leaving before I could introduce myself earlier, but my friends were being a pain in the ass - pardon my language.”

You tell him your own name and he holds out his hand. You put your hand in his and expect him to shake it, but what he does next surprises you.

He gently raises your hand to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he rolls your name off his tongue, still holding your hand.

You try your best not to make it obvious that you’re swooning over this man. Heat returns to your core at the feeling of his rough hand engulfing yours. 

The elevator bell dings, letting you know you’ve reached your floor. Bucky carefully drops your hand as the doors open. The two of you step out of the elevator and he stops.

“I’ll be seeing you around,” he says, holding eye contact with you.

“I hope so,” your buzz encourages you. 

You smile at each other and when he turns to head to his room, you do the same. 

“Goodnight, doll,” he shouts over his shoulder before disappearing into his room.

You can’t keep the smile off of your face the rest of the night. You’re in fucking Hawaii. A man straight out of your fantasies had bought you a drink, and he plans on seeing you around. You know it’s too soon to be thinking this, but maybe you’ll find a more unconventional way to relieve stress this week. 

After you wake up and get dressed for the day, you head down to get breakfast from the buffet. You load your plate and find a table. You’re in the middle of chewing a bite of waffle when you see Brock. Him and a woman, you assume it’s Marissa, are grabbing plates and getting into the breakfast line. 

Brock doesn’t notice you until after him and the woman have gotten their own food. You watch him as he scans the room for a table, his eyes eventually landing on you. 

He calls out your name and leans down to tell the woman something. 

“So glad you’re here! Are these seats taken?” he asks, not waiting for a response as he sits down, leaving the woman to follow. 

“Go ahead,” you say. You’re somewhat glad to have some company, even if it’s a little awkward.

“This is my fiancée, Marissa.”

“So nice to meet you,” she offers her hand and you shake it. 

Breakfast is filled with awkward conversation. You and Brock catch up a little bit, telling each other what you’re up to these days. After a few minutes, Brock pulls out his phone and doesn’t put it away for the rest of the meal. You talk to Marissa about the wedding planning and do your best to seem interested as she talks about flower arrangements for ten minutes. 

Eventually, conversation lulls and you take the opportunity to get up. 

“So nice catching up with you, Brock. And nice to meet you Marissa!” you say, heading to your room.

You decide on heading to the pool today and change into your bikini. It’s a black set that shows off your body without being too skimpy. You throw some clothes over it and grab your book before stepping out of your room. 

Before you reach the elevator, you hear your name being called. You turn and see Bucky standing by his door.

“Where are you headed to?” 

“I’m gonna go lay by the pool for a bit, wanna join me?” you answer, not sure where your courage is coming from.

Bucky grins as he responds, “Nothing else I’d rather do.”

You feel your face heat up.

“Lemme put some trunks on and I’ll meet you down there?”

“Sounds great, Bucky,” you nod at him before slipping into the elevator.

Once at the pool, you grab two towels. By some miracle, you manage to find two empty lounge chairs together. You set your things down and lay the towels over the chairs. You strip out of your clothes, leaving you clad in only the bikini, and apply sunscreen before laying down. You put your earbuds in and close your eyes and bask in the sun. 

Maybe it's the sunshine, maybe it’s the fresh ocean air, or maybe it’s something else entirely, but you’re feeling the happiest you’ve been in a long time. You notice that instead of your usual RBF, you've been smiling almost constantly since your arrival.

When you open your eyes, you see Bucky standing a few feet away from you, steel blue eyes raking up and down your body. 

“Oh, Bucky,” you pause your music, blush returning to your cheeks, “how long have you been standing there?”

“Shit,” he says your name, realizing he’d been caught staring, “I swear I just got here like ten seconds ago. I’m so sorry. Feel free to revoke my invitation because I was being a creep,” he grimaces, expecting you to be mad at him.

The way he looked at you was different than the way most men would look at you in a bikini, though. It wasn’t gross or pervy. It looked like he was genuinely just appreciating your body, rather than plotting how to get you into his bed. And he didn't make any disgusting comments or cat call you like other guys have in the past. Besides, you'd be lying if you said you didn’t get a boost of confidence from the way he looked at you.  

“Hmm,” you put your finger on your chin, pretending to mull it over, “I’ll let you sit down, but only if you buy me another drink first.”

That familiar grin spreads across his face again. 

“You got yourself a deal. You want another one of those gross cocktails you were drinking last night?”

“Um, excuse you, Mr. I’m too manly to drink cocktails, but I’ll have you know those were delicious.”

He chuckles and promises to be back shortly before walking toward the bar. 

You play your music and wait for him to return. After a couple minutes, he returns holding a colorful, fruit filled cocktail and a beer bottle.

Bucky takes his seat next to you, beer bottle in hand. He lets out a sigh of relief as he lays back in his chair. 

“So, not to be rude, but is Bucky your real name?”

“My full name is James Buchanan Barnes, if you must know. All my friends and family call me Bucky.” 

You nod and take a sip of your drink. 

“Man, it’s hot,” Bucky takes a drink from his bottle before setting it down and reaching down to grab the bottom of his shirt. You find it’s your turn to stare as he pulls it over his head, exposing tan skin and rippling muscle. Bucky gives you a cocky smirk when he notices you staring with your drink frozen midair, on its way to your mouth. 

You quickly avert your eyes and feel the familiar dusting of pink return to your cheeks. 

“Like what you see, doll?”

You simply shake your head at his teasing and smile, flustered as can be.

“So what do you do for work, Bucky?”

“Well I was in the army until a couple years ago. Now I’m a mechanic, I got my own shop with my buddies.” 

You make a mental note to thank the army for mandating PT as you watch a drop of sweat roll down Bucky’s washboard abs.  

“Is that who you’re here with?”

“Yeah. Me and Steve have known each other since we were little, actually. We met Sam when we joined up and after we all got out we opened up shop together,” a reminiscent smile plays upon his lips. “Those two knuckleheads are basically family. We decided to take a trip to celebrate the shop’s one year anniversary.”

“Speaking of family, do you have any?”

“My, uh,” his brows furrow, “my dad died when I was little, but I have a mom and a sister who’s a little younger than me. About your age, probably.” 

His expression returns to normal in a split second, “Enough about me. Do you have family?”

“Yeah, but I moved away for college and never went back home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Ohio. I live in New York now.”

Bucky seems almost excited at this bit of information. 

“Is that so?” he raises an eyebrow. “I live in Brooklyn.”

“Me too,” you share a smile.

Needing a break from the sweltering sun, you stand and grab your drink. 

“I'm getting in the pool, care to join?”

Bucky wordlessly stands and follows you to the pool, smiling. You walk down the steps, drink in hand. Bucky, however, stops at the edge of the pool and watches you. 

“You coming in or what?”

“In a minute, doll.”

Surprisingly, the pool isn’t that crowded. It’s huge, so the people that are in the pool are able to spread out and stay out of each other’s way. 

It’s only once you’re standing in the pool, water up to your bikini top, that Bucky decides to enter. 

Via cannonball. 

You register what he’s about to do as he jumps in the air and wraps his hands around his knees and you yell at him, Barnes don’t you dare! but it’s too late. Next thing you know, you’re drenched. Your hair and face are soaked and there’s pool water in your drink.

Bucky emerges from under the water, smirk dancing across his lips. His expression falters for a second when he notices your angry expression, but you can’t keep the smile from your face when he shakes his hair out like a wet dog. 

“You ruined my drink.”

“I’ll buy you another,” he says, taking the drink out of your hands and setting it on the edge of the pool. 

He walks closer and closer to you until you’re just inches apart. He tentatively moves his hands under the water until they’re resting on your bare hips. His grip is soft, barely there. He’s giving you a chance to reject his touch, but all you do is gently move into his hands. 

His grip becomes more firm and his eyes light up with a glint of mischief. Before you know what hit you, you’re being lifted out of the water, Bucky’s muscles flexing as he raises you up. Before you have a chance to stop him - as if you’d stand any chance against his nearly super human physique - he launches you back into the water. 

When you emerge from the water, you see Bucky nearly doubled over laughing at the angry expression on your face. You really do try your best to be mad at him, but his shimmering smile and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes makes it hard. 

“What. The. Hell,” you make your way back to him and move to smack his chest. Bucky has quick reflexes, though, and you find that your hand is trapped between one of his own and his muscular pec. 

“That was revenge for the way you’ve been staring at me all morning when I’m unable to do anything about it.”

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his flirty words in an effort to keep up your mad facade.

“What if I drowned Bucky?” you deadpan.

“Wouldn’t let that happen,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Well, you’re still a jerk.”

“A jerk who’s talking to the prettiest girl in this resort,” he counters with a shit-eating grin.

Bucky drops his hand and, instead of moving yours away, you wrap both your arms around the back of his neck. 

“Not for much longer if you pull another stunt like that, Barnes.”

“Sorry, doll,” the amused grin he’s still sporting makes you doubt his apology.

His hands return to your hips and he pulls you closer. He’s a fair bit taller than you and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. The sun is reflected in his ocean blue eyes and water drips down his face, getting caught in the scruff spanning his jaw. 

Bucky leans down and lifts one of his hands to gently grab your chin between two long fingers. He softly directs you toward his own face. You can’t stop your eyes from flicking down to his pink, pillowy lips. You close the rest of the distance on your own. 

Bucky is quick to kiss you back after your lips meet his. He caresses your lips with his own and he moves his hand to the back of your neck, pressing you against him harder. He swipes his tongue across your lips and you part them for him. You let out a small moan into his mouth and he gently takes your bottom lip between his teeth.

He pulls away, letting your lip free. You feel a throb in between your legs when he gives your neck a quick squeeze before letting his hand fall back to his own person. 

“Fuck, doll. Don’t make me throw you into the water again.” He waits until he thinks you’re not looking before reaching down to adjust his swim trunks.

“You started it,” you reply as you make your way to the steps and climb out of the pool. “I need another drink,” you make sure to sway your hips as you walk back toward the bar, not needing to look back to know he’s watching. 

You lean against the bar and are waiting to be helped when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. You turn around and expect to see Bucky, only to be met with the sight of a man you’ve never seen before.

“Can I help you?” you remove the man’s hand from you.

“Nice bikini, baby. Lemme buy you a drink,” the slur in his words and his unsteady stance letting you know that he’s certainly not sober.

“No, thanks,” you turn back to the bar, making it clear you’re not interested. 

The man either doesn’t get the hint or decides to keep trying anyway, because you feel both his hands land on your hips this time. He steps closer to you, his chest pressed up against your back.

Just as you’re preparing to throw an elbow into the man’s ribs, you feel his hands being ripped off of you. You turn around to see the man falling to the ground, Bucky standing over him. 

“Get up,” Bucky demands, looking down.

The man, surprisingly, manages to get back on his feet and gives Bucky a death glare. Before he has a chance to give Bucky a piece of his mind, as you’re sure he was about to, Bucky grabs him by the collar of his shirt and leans into the man’s ear. He says something too quiet for you to hear and emphasizes it by using his grip on the man’s shirt to shake him. A few people around you are starting to stare.

The man’s face goes slack and he nods in response to whatever Bucky had said. Bucky shoves the man away and he nearly falls to the ground again. Bucky stares him down as he turns and walks away. Once he’s sure the man isn’t coming back, he returns his attention to you. Thankfully, everyone’s attention seems to be back to whatever they were doing before the commotion.

“You okay, doll? I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault, Bucky,” you give him a half smile to let him know you’re okay, just sick of men thinking they have a right to touch you. “I’m okay.”

“You still want another drink? Told you I’d buy it,” he goes to flag down the bartender. 

You gently rest your hand on his bicep and he looks at you “Thank you, Buck,” you hope your genuine expression conveys that you’re not just thanking him for the drink.

He gives you a curt nod, “Don’t mention it. Just trying to be a gentleman.”

A few minutes later, armed with another round of drinks, you and Bucky are making your way back to the lounge chairs.

“So where are your friends today?” you inquire.

“Finally got those punks outta my hair for a little while. They went to hike up some mountain. Or maybe it was a volcano, I really don’t know.”

“You didn’t want to go with them?”

“I-uh,” he rubs a hand across the back of his neck, “let’s just say heights aren’t really my thing,” an adorable redness spreads across his face.

You nod, deciding to spare him any further embarrassment from teasing. The two of you sit down on the sides of your chairs, facing each other. 

“So why are you here?”

You figured the question would arise eventually, but you had been dreading telling him the reason. It just sounds embarrassing to admit that you’re attending your ex’s wedding. 

“I’m actually here for a wedding.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s getting married? Not you, I hope,” Bucky chuckles at his own joke but stops when you don’t so much as crack a smile. His face drops and he stares at you for a second before you notice his expression.

“No. God- no. I’m not engaged, Bucky. Very much single. It’s my ex’s wedding.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “Oh, wow,” you can tell he’s unsure how to respond.

“I’ve hardly talked to him since the breakup a few years ago. We’re on good terms, though. Actually ate breakfast with him and his fiancee this morning.”

“Well that’s good, I guess. That you’re on good terms, I mean. Why did you choose to come? Sorry if I’m being nosy, you dont have to answer.” “No, it’s fine. It’s a little weird, I get it. For the most part, it was a good excuse to take a vacation and hopefully see some old friends. It’s not like I still have feelings for Brock or anything, so I really couldn’t care less that he’s getting married. His fiancee seems nice enough. And things went okay this morning, so I’m hopeful that things won’t be too awkward at the wedding. Plus there’ll be an open bar at the reception,” you crack a smile.

Bucky listens and nods along. “Well I hope everything goes okay. I’m certainly not complaining that you’re here,” he gives you a soft smile.

Sunbathing next to Bucky and sharing laughter-filled conversation leaves you with such a serene feeling that you physically feel lighter and your mind feels clearer. You decide in that moment that this vacation was definitely worth it, you can feel your mental health improving by the hour.

At one point, you doze off and are woken to Bucky’s hand gently shaking your shoulder. You open your eyes and see him leaning over you, radiant smile on his face. 

“Probably shouldn’t stay out here too long or you’ll burn to a crisp.”

You sit up and nod, “Good point.”

You and Bucky get dressed and gather your things before depositing your towels in the proper bin and heading inside the hotel. Once you and Bucky reach your floor, you stand and shuffle your feet, unsure of what to do next. Bucky sets a hand on your arm and you look up at him. 

“My friends and I are going out to dinner tonight and, I’m sorry if this seems weird, but would you want to come with us? You don’t have to say yes, just thought I’d throw it out there,” he has a nervous look on his face and he chews on his lip while he waits for an answer.

You couldn’t be more thrilled at the fact that he still wants to spend more time with you, even though you’d been together a large chunk of the day already. You want to say yes, both because you have no other plans and because you’d love to spend more time with the man in front of you, but you don’t want to seem overly eager. 

“Yeah, I’d like that. Only if you’re sure your friends won’t mind, that is.”

Bucky looks almost relieved and gives you a boyish grin. “Nah, Steve and Sam will be fine. I’m sure you guys will get along great.”

“Okay, Buck, looking forward to it.”

“Can’t wait, doll. I’ll meet you here at seven.”

Bucky seems to hesitate for a moment, but then leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips, which you happily return. He pulls back and heads off to his room.

“See you tonight, sweetheart.”

You decide you have a bit of time before you need to start getting ready for dinner, so you grab your book and sit out on the balcony. You find that you have a hard time focusing on the words in front of you, though. The ocean waves and palm trees blowing in the breeze paired with the distant sounds of laughter and music coming from below makes for a pleasant distraction. Before you know it, it’s 6:45 and you scramble to get back inside and start getting dressed. 

It isn’t until you’re searching through your clothes that you realize you don’t know where you’re going for dinner or how to dress. You only packed three dresses, a sundress, the dress you’re wearing to the wedding, and the one you decide on for tonight.

The black dress comes down to your knees with a slit up the thigh. It’s tight and shows off your curves. The back is open, with straps crossing in the center of your shoulder blades. The cut in the front is low enough that it shows off your cleavage while maintaining a classy enough appearance. 

You decide to dress it up with heels - also black. They’re only a couple inches tall, so you can still walk in them somewhat comfortably. You’re thankful that you packed a decent selection of jewelry and throw on some silver earrings and a necklace.

You take a quick look at yourself in the mirror and can’t help but smile - damn you look good. You grab your clutch and open your door. You nearly walk into Bucky as you step into the hallway. 

Bucky is wearing tight grey dress pants with a snug-fitting short sleeve black button up. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, giving you a peek of the toned chest hiding beneath. He’s paired the outfit with a black belt and matching shoes. He speaks before you have a chance to compliment him.

“Doll,” he looks you up and down, eyes wide, “wow. You look gorgeous.”

You feel yourself flush as you thank him. 

“You look really good too, Buck. Where’s Steve and Sam?”

“I told them to wait downstairs for us. Wanted to prepare you for them. They can be a bit,” he pauses, searching for the right word, “much, sometimes. I told them to be on their best behavior tonight. They just have a way of embarrassing people, Sam especially. I’m sure they’ll be teasing me nonstop, so just ignore anything they say.”

You chuckle lightly, “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

You and Bucky step into the elevator and take turns sneaking glaces at each other. Just before you reach the ground floor, Bucky leans over you, effectively trapping you between him and the elevator wall. Even in your heels, he has to lean down to be eye level with you. “I mean it, doll, you look stunning,” his eyes search yours, “Can I kiss you?”

You respond by closing the distance between the two of you. He reaches up and places a hand on the back of your head, holding you to him. The feel of his soft lips on yours makes you forget where you are. All too soon, the elevator door is opening and before you and Bucky have a chance to break away from each other, you hear a whistle.

“Damn, Barnes! Moving quick!” 

Bucky quickly steps away from you but stays in front of you, shielding you while you take a second to collect yourself. 

“Shut it, Sam,” Bucky says sternly. You don’t miss the red that creeps up the back of his neck. Nor do you miss how his tight pants do wonders for his ass.

After a second you step out from behind Bucky and extend a hand to the man, deciding to play it off.

“So you must be Sam,” you introduce yourself as he shakes your hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve responds when you shake his hand.

Steve and Sam lead the way out of the resort and you trail behind with Bucky. 

“We heard about this place some locals recommended that’s supposed to be really good. We’re gonna take a taxi there. That okay with you?”

“Sounds great,” you smile up at him.

The four of you wait in front of the resort for the taxi. 

“So,” Steve says your name, “you really spent all day with Bucky and he hasn’t made a fool of himself yet?”

“Whoa whoa whoa, I never said that. He’s lucky I’m even here right not after he threw me into the pool earlier. Although he did almost get into a fist fight defending me, so I guess it cancels out.”

Sam gives Bucky a grin, “Attaboy.”

“When me and Buck were younger, I used to get myself into all kinds of trouble and Bucky would have to end up kicking some dude’s ass for me almost daily,” Steve reminisces.

Bucky huffs and nods his head, “Punk dragged me into all kinds of trouble. Believe it or not, he wasn’t always this big. Needed to help him out or he woulda ended up bleeding out in an alley somewhere in Brooklyn.”

Steve’s cheeks heat up, but you have trouble picturing the man in front of you as anything other than he is now - huge and intimidating. 

After a couple minutes of getting to know Steve and Sam a little bit, the taxi arrives. It’s a five seater car, Steve sits in the front with the driver and you, Bucky, and Sam climb into the back. Bucky sits in between you and Sam. The car is plenty roomy enough, but Bucky makes sure to sit close enough that his thigh is pressed up against yours. The drive is short and Steve pays the driver when you arrive. Everyone gets out of the car. Bucky offers you his elbow and you link your arm in his. He leads the four of you into the building.

“Hi, we have a reservation for Barnes.”

The hostess leads you out back to the outdoor seating and your jaw drops. The palm tree surrounded patio is right on the beach and you have a perfect view of the sun setting on the water. Fairy lights and tiki torches give the place a soft glow. A live band plays soft Hawaiian music on a stage. 

Once you reach your table, the hostess sets down menus and silverware, before heading back inside. Bucky unlinks his arm from yours and he pulls out a chair for you. Before you sit, you turn to him.

“Bucky, this place is beautiful.”

“Glad you like it, darling.”

You sit and Bucky takes the seat next to you. By the time you snap out of your awestruck trance, Sam and Steve are both holding menus and arguing about something. You go to pick up a menu and notice Bucky’s eyes trained on you. He gives you a smile before looking down at his own menu. 

The waitress comes to take drink orders and the three men all order whiskey. You decide to get something other than a fruity cocktail.

“I’ll have the same,” you say when the server looks to you. 

You notice the way all three of their eyebrows jump at your choice. The waitress leaves and Bucky gently sets a hand just above your knee. He turns to look at you, as if asking for permission and you give him a reassuring smile. Conversation flows and when the waitress returns with the drinks, Sam and Steve immediately take a sip of theirs. Bucky’s eyes fall on you as you raise the glass to your lips. You keep eye contact with him as you take a drink, holding a straight face. You see of flash of something dark flash in his eyes and he moves his hand higher up your thigh and gives it a firm squeeze. 

You continue to read the menu and decide on seafood - you have to, you’re in Hawaii - and so does everyone else at the table. It is the restaurant’s specialty, after all. By the time the waitress comes to take your order, the four of you are all getting along great.

“So you guys all work on cars, huh?” 

“And bikes,” Sam nods at you.

“Do you guys all have motorcycles?” you glance around the table.

“Yeah, we do,” Bucky confirms.

You can easily picture him leather-clad, thick thighs straddling a Harley and his hand resting on the throttle. The thought makes you clench your thighs together and, based on the way Bucky’s thumb begins to rub circles into your thigh and he smirks at you, you assume he notices. 

“So what do you have planned for the rest of the week?” Steve questions you, oblivious to Bucky’s hand on you underneath the table.

“Well I’m going snorkeling tomorrow. I also want to hit the beach, maybe take a surf lesson. Horseback riding and hiking sounds fun too, though. What all have you guys done?”

“Well,” Sam starts, “we just got in yesterday, so we haven’t really done much yet.”

“Oh, so you guys got here the same day I did, then. When are you guys leaving?”

“Saturday, how about you?” Bucky answers you. 

“Sunday morning.”

“I’m sure you’ll be sick of Bucky by then,” Sam chortles.

Thinking about spending the rest of the week with Bucky puts a smile on your face and you hope he wants to spend more time with you, too. Eventually, the food comes and you all dig in. It’s so delicious that you’re not even mad about how expensive it was. Bucky lets out a groan of delight as he takes his first bite. 

“This is so good, doll. You want to try?” 

You nod and he raises his fork to your lips. He feeds you a bite of his food and you agree, it is delicious. You pull your attention away from Bucky just in time to see Sam whispering something into Steve’s ear, to which Steve chortles and nods.

“What are you guys talking about?” Bucky returns his attention to his friends.

“Nothing, man,” Steve dismisses him.

Bucky shoots them a warning look but drops it. 

The rest of the meal is filled with stories from their time in the army and Steve informs you that Bucky was a sergeant. You’re thankful that they don’t pressure you with too many questions about your boring life back in the city. The conversation flows easy and after a couple more rounds of drinks, the four of you are laughing so hard that you’re drawing attention from other tables. When everyone finishes eating, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and find your waitress. You give her your credit card, insisting that she charges the bill to your card.

You’d been having a great time with Bucky and his friends so far and you wanted to thank them for inviting you to have dinner with them. They had been so welcoming to you and have made your trip less lonely, even if only for one night. You return to the table.

When the waitress comes back to your table, she returns your credit card to you and the three men share a confused look.

Bucky cocks his head at you, “Did you pay for yourself already, doll? I was going to.”

“She actually covered the whole table,” the server informs them before leaving.

“Wait, what? You paid for us all?” Steve asks in disbelief.

Sam looks to you, waiting for an answer. Bucky just looks at you, brows furrowed. 

“Yeah. I just wanted to thank you guys for being so inviting. I enjoyed hanging out with you all tonight,” you look down at the table, feeling almost as if you’d done something wrong. 

Sam says your name, “That was really unnecessary, but thank you. We enjoyed your company. We get sick of each other, it was nice to have you join us. I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah,” Steve concurs, “I’m glad you could come. You really didn’t have to do that, but thank you, sincerely.”

“It’s not a big deal, guys. It was no problem.”

You turn to look at Bucky. He’s still in the same position - eyes trained on you and brows furrowed. You worry you’ve done something wrong and gently reach between the two of you and take his hand in yours. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and finally speaks. 

“Thank you,” you can tell there’s more he wants to say, though. Your group stands and heads to the front to wait for another taxi. After you step out the front doors, Bucky softly grabs your arm, holding you back. Steve and Sam continue walking. 

“Thank you for paying, I really appreciate the gesture. But I invited you tonight because I enjoy spending time with you and I wanted you to meet my friends. You shouldn’t have had to pay for your own dinner tonight, let alone everyone else’s. I do appreciate it, though, and I know Steve and Sam did too,” he gives you a sincere look and you sheepishly look down at the ground. He lifts his hand to cup your face and tilts it up to him, forcing you to make eye contact. “But all that being said, don’t you dare try and pull that again,” he says in a more authoritative tone.

You feel a wetness forming in your panties at the soft yet demanding tone he uses. You’re too shocked at the sudden dominance that you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod up at him. 

“Good girl,” he praises in a low voice.

“You guys coming or what?” you hear Sam’s voice call.

You hadn’t even realized that taxi had arrived. Bucky leans down and presses a kiss to your lips before leading you to the car with a hand on the small of your back. Bucky sits inbetween you and Sam again and rests a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to slipping underneath the hem of your dress that had ridden halfway up your thighs. All you can focus on the whole car ride back to the resort is the feel of Bucky’s calloused hands on your leg and the pulsing at the apex of your thighs.

After what feels like hours, the cars pulls to a stop in front of the resort and you step out of car, followed by Bucky, who places his hand back on you immediately after he gets out. Steve and Sam make conversation, Bucky occasionally making a noncommittal grunt in response. After the elevator brings all of you to the fifth floor, Steve and Sam say goodnight and thank you again for dinner. You don’t miss the way Bucky’s hand tightens around your hip when they mention you paying for dinner. You say goodnight to them and they look at Bucky, probably expecting him to say goodnight and follow them back to their rooms. 

You’re not quite sure what you expect Bucky to do, but all you know is that the tension is thicker than Bucky’s biceps that are currently straining against his shirt sleeves.

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a little bit,” he tells his friends without taking his eyes off you.

“Okayyy,” Steve drags out the word as him and Sam turn and walk away, muttering and laughing to themselves.

Once you and Bucky are alone in the hall, he gently backs you up against the wall. He leaves one hand on your hips and tangles the other in your hair. He pulls you into a kiss that you fervently reciprocate. You’re sure that your panties are soaked at this point. You clench your thighs together, desperate for some friction. Bucky spreads your legs with his knee and slots his thigh against your center, forcing your dress to rise up. You moan into his mouth at the relief and buck your hips into him, your drenched underwear are dragging across his pants and you’re sure they’ll leave a dark spot from your arousal. 

Bucky pulls away from the kiss, but pushes his thigh harder against you. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Dirty fuckin’ girl,” his voice is filled with lust, “Rutting up against my thigh in the middle of the hallway, skirt up so anyone can see how soaked your panties are for me.”

You whimper into Bucky’s ear. It turns you on to hear such filthy things coming from his usually polite mouth.

“Please, Bucky,” you beg, desparate for release.

“Please what, babydoll? Tell me what you need,” he demands.

He presses his bulge into your stomach and you can’t string together a sentence.

“I know, honey. You just wanna come, huh?” he looks down at you with a pitying expression and you nod your head so hard you get dizzy, too fuzzy-headed to care how desperate you look. He chuckles at you, “Say it. Tell me you need me to take care of you.”

“Please, Bucky! Make me come, take care of me. Just do something, please!” you sound absolutely wrecked and the groan Bucky lets out while he rocks his hips into you lets you know he gets off on it. 

“Fuck. Unlock your door, princess,” he tells you, pulling away and waiting by your door.

You’re surprised at how quickly you manage to dig you key card out of your purse and open the door in your aroused state. As soon as the door is open, Bucky grabs you and spins you around to face him.

“Jump,” he orders.

You drop throw your purse onto the table and wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck before jumping. He catches you by the backs of your thighs and effortlessly carries you to the bed, peppering kisses along your face and neck the whole way.

He throws you onto the bed and pulls off your shoes, placing a kiss to each of your shins. He then flips you onto your stomach and unties your dress. The way he manhandles you so easily sends a fresh gush of arousal to your core. He helps you shimmy out of your dress as he kicks off his shoes. You’re left in only your panties and he takes in the sight of your practically naked body and groans. He uses one hand to undo his belt and uses the other to reach down and palm your breast. 

“Goddamn, babydoll. No bra?” 

You don’t have the mental capacity to explain that you wouldn’t have been able to wear one with the open back dress, settling instead for reaching up and pulling him down by his collar until he’s straddling your hips. He leans back and unbuttons his shirt, exposing his broad chest and defined abs one button at a time, throwing it to the floor when he’s done. He has a dark trail of hair leading down into his dress pants where you can see the large outline of his hardened cock. He leans down atop of you, veiny forearms resting on either side of your head. 

He snakes a hand down between the two of you and dips his fingers in the waistband. “Can I take these off, babydoll?”

You nod and reach to his neck, trying to pull him down for a kiss. Much to your dismay, he doesn’t budge. 

“Need words, honey.”

“Yes Bucky, please.”

“Good girl,” he rewards you by leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

His hand makes its way beneath your panties and he runs a finger through your abundant wetness, dragging it up to your clit. He uses your slick to rub circles into the sensitive bud. He pulls away from the kiss and you try to chase his mouth. He stops you by holding your head to the mattress with a hand on your jaw. He squeezes your cheeks until your mouth opens. He looks down at you and spits directly into your mouth.

“Swallow for me, baby.”

You follow his order without a second thought. Once you swallow, he brings his hand down to your neck. He rewards you by bringing a finger to your entrance and slowly pushing into your tight hole. 

“Fuck, doll. I wanna be in this perfect little pussy. Do you want that? Want me to fill you up with my big cock? Wanna feel me deep inside you?”

“Yes, Bucky! Fu- I want it so-fuck so bad.”

He quickly adds a second finger and begins pumping them inside you at a brutal pace. His hand on your throat tightens ever so slightly and he watches your face to gauge your reaction. When your eyes roll back into your head and your pussy clamps down on his fingers, he grins and tightens his grip a little more.

The lack of blood flow to your head makes you feel fuzzy in the best way. You feel yourself getting close to your orgasm. Bucky keeps his pace as he fucks you on his fingers and keeps a careful eye on you, watching for the telltale signals of your climax. When he sees you squeeze your eyes shut and feels your pussy clench, he pulls his hand out altogether. 

You look up at Bucky and loosens his grip on your neck, but keeps his hand resting there. You buck your hips up, your orgasm fading away rapidly. Bucky uses one hand to pin your hips to the bed.

“Bucky, no,” you whine, “I was so close.”

“I know, doll,” he gives you a mischievous smirk. “You were a bad girl earlier when you paid for dinner. You’re supposed to let me treat you. Let me take care of you. You wouldn’t let me take care of you then, so I’m not sure I should take care of you now.”

“Bucky please,” you beg, “Won’t do it again, promise. Just-nngh just take care of me please. Need you to make me come,” you hope your pleading is enough to convince him.

Bucky lets out a deep groan and smashes his lips against yours. He makes his way down your torso, stopping to pay special attention to your nipples. He ever so softly bites down on your nipple and you thread your fingers through his hair. He continues to trail kisses down your stomach. When he reaches your panties, he places wet kisses against the soaked fabric. You try to buck up into his mouth, but his hand is still pinning you down.

Finally, he reaches into the waistband of your panties and you raise your hips, allowing him to pull them down your legs and throw them on the floor with your dress. You get another glimpse of the rock-hard bulge in his dress pants and you know that can’t be comfortable for him, but his attention is all on you right now. He makes himself comfortable between your legs and uses his hands to spread your pussy apart, getting a good look at it.

“Fucking perfect. Prettiest damn pussy I’ve ever seen, baby.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, his lips are on you. He sucks your clit into his mouth and flicks at it with his tongue. You grab onto his hair with one hand and grab the sheets with the other. The screams you let out are almost pornographic. He alternates between licking your arousal up from where it’s seeping out of your hole and giving your sensitive clit attention. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, you feel yourself returning to the edge of the orgasm you’d just been denied. 

He laps at your core and uses both hands to hold your hips down onto the bed. When your heavy breathing and the movement of your hips give away your oncoming orgasm, he pulls away again. 

“NOO,” you practically scream, on the verge of tears. “Bucky,” you sob. 

“That one was for giving me a hard on at dinner when you downed that whiskey.”

Before you have a chance to complain anymore, he places one last kiss on your clit and stands from the bed. You watch as he undoes his pants and they pool at his ankles. You can see a wet spot on his boxers where he’d been leaking precum. He drops those too and you’re met with the sight of him. His cock bobs up against his stomach.

He’s thick and long, with a patch of dark curly hair at his base. The tip is pink and shiny with his arousal. Your mouth waters at the sight and you want nothing more than to lick it off, but he crawls back onto the bed before you can make any move to do so. He hovers over you and you can feel the weight of his cock resting on your lower stomach. 

“You want this, honey? Want to come all over my cock? Want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk in the morning?” he ruts against your stomach, waiting for a response.

“Please, Bucky. ‘S all I want. Ah- fuck. Need it so bad. I need to come.”

“I got you, sweet girl,” he gives you a reassuring look as he grabs his base and guides himself to your drenched core.

He pushes his fat tip into you, watching your face for any signs of pain. You’re so wet and aroused that he almost slides right in. You try to push your hips down, desparate to feel him deeper. He’s quick to pin you down again. 

“Greedy girl.”

He eases himself into you at his own pace until his hips are flush against yours. You feel his pubic hair rubbing at your clit and begin to claw at his back, needing him to move.

“Fuck me, Bucky. Ah- god damn it,” you look up at him with pleading eyes, “Need you to move, baby.”

For the first time tonight, he listens to one of your demands. He slowly pulls all the way out, letting you feel every inch of his cock before he slams back in so hard it pushes you up the mattress. He braces himself with one arm on the bed and holds your hip with his other hand and sets a brutal pace. He thrusts deep and hard, tip pounding against your cervix with every punishing thrust. He moves the hand on your hip to rub at your clit.

“I’m not gonna last long baby. Fuck- be ah- be a good girl and come for me.”

You’re not far off and when he hits that spongy spot inside of you, you let out a scream. 

“Fuck, right there!” you pant.

He rubs at your clit and thrusts into your g-spot. You feel yourself hurdling toward your orgasm for the third time tonight. Except this time, when you clamp down around Bucky’s cock, he redoubles his efforts instead of stopping. You see stars when you reach your peak and you drag your nails down Bucky’s back. 

“Such a good girl for me, fuck. Where-ah where do you want me baby?”

“Inside, Bucky, please,” you want to know what it feels like to be full of his cum. “I’m on the pill.”

“Fuck, doll. So fucking good for me. My girl’s so good.”

You don’t miss the way he calls you his girl. And you certainly don’t mind it.

Bucky’s thrusts become shallow and his pace falters. He slams into you one last time and buries himself as deep as he can before shooting hot ropes of his seed into you. Once he empties his balls into you, he leans down, bracing himself on his forearms so as not to crush you. He slots his lips against yours and the two of you share breaths as you come down from your highs.

Once the two of you have caught your breath, he slowly pulls out of you. He places a kiss on your forehead and walks to the bathroom. You eye the dimples in his buttcheeks as he walks away. He returns shortly with a wet cloth and kneels between your thighs. He gingerly cleans his mess, aware of how sensitive you are. 

When he finishes, he throws the cloth onto the floor and climbs up the bed to join you. You climb under the sheets and fold them over on the other side, offering Bucky the space. He happily lays down next to you and pulls you into his chest.

“You’re beautiful, doll. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.”

“It was so good, Buck,” you manage to respond in your exhausted state. 

“I’m sure you’d enjoy it more if I didn’t have to punish you, too,” you can’t see his face, but you know he has a cocky smirk on his face.

“You’ll have to show me, then.”

“Oh, believe me, sweet girl, I plan to.”

You fall asleep against Bucky’s strong chest, his hand scratching soothingly at your back.

[daenysx]

hii, rockstar!reader here, i just love the way you wrote them!!! can i request more pretty please? maybe reader is too sick to perform and has to postpone a show she was really looking foward to? and james tries to cheer her up?

thank you for requesting, i hope you like this one too!! (if you wanna check the first fic i wrote for bodyguard!james x rockstar!reader, it's here, but this is not really a second part so you can read them separately)

bodyguard!james potter x rockstar!reader ♡

"james, i have to."

"tell me your reasons without coughing and i will accept, sweetheart."

this is the third time you try to leave your bed. james disagrees, you act like you can run to the stage and sing your songs like you always do, but well- you can't. you can't even form two sentences without your throat bothering you, endless coughs and teardrops complete the sickness trio.

you are sad, your body hurts and not being on the same side with james doesn't help. you put your head back to your pillow, your eyes are begging to be closed. it's so hard, being betrayed by your own body when you have somewhere else to be.

james stands next to your bed, he has his usual attire. he bends down, reaches the same level as your face. you look at him with sad eyes, hoping he'll do something. he takes your hand in his hand, gives your fingers a comforting squeeze.

"i'm really sorry." james says. "i know how much you wanted to play here."

you can't help a tear rolling down on your cheek. it makes your breathing even harder, you sit up to get some air in your lungs. james is on his knees next to your bed, he wanders a soft hand on your back.

"please, don't cry." he says, he sounds really really upset. "you'll make yourself worse, calm down, angel."

"i hate being sick." you say. he gives you a smile that says he knows. he's your bodyguard, he is always ready to protect you. it's difficult for him to see you unwell when he can't do anything about it.

"okay." james starts, voice determined. he rubs a gentle thumb on your tears to dry them. you are focused on his touch and for a moment you forget what you are doing. "we both should be calm if we want you better as soon as possible."

you nod. he's helping, you should do your part. you can't lift your body from bed but you can at least show him you care about his words.

"you need to eat something before taking your medications." he says as he helps you lie down. "anything you want? we can order soup."

he walks through the room to get the meds doctor gave you. he is moving quickly, thinking quickly like it's an operation for saving you from bad guys. he brings you a clean, thin tank top to change into, you manage to wear it without making it hard for james. he opens the window only for a few minutes to get you some fresh air, fixes your sheets without moving you too much. in these 5 minutes after he offers you food, he fixes the entire room for you without even trying too hard.

when he finally finishes the little things on the list he has on his mind, he finally comes next to you. you motion for him to sit, sadness lingers in your eyes but you do feel better. "thank you, james." you say quietly. "you don't have to-"

"come on, sweetheart." he cuts your sentence with a small smile. "you know i'm not doing all of these only because i'm your bodyguard."

you nod, he holds your hand. he looks at you like you're gonna break, like you are someone precious. he pushes your hair back with his free hand, you can see his gentle eyes through his glasses.

"my voice is terrible." you say, just to change the topic. "it doesn't even feel like my voice."

"there's no way i'd ever think your voice is terrible. you'll be better soon, i promise." he says, he means every word. "you'll have a show here one day."

you try to stay strong. you can handle it. if james says you'll be better, then you have to believe him. you give his fingers a weak squeeze. "so you think my voice is cool?" you ask, james relaxes finally when he hears the teasing tone.

"you now have the deep, scratchy voice of a rockstar, angel. you can give me a little concert after you finish your soup, if you want."

you nod, your mind is too tired and foggy from sickness. james tells you a few soup options after that, and you go with your usual choice. he orders it for you, gives you a cool glass of water when you wait for the food.

your throat finally feels a bit better, you realize it when you wake up from the nap you took after your soup and medications. you can at least swallow without hurting. james is fast asleep on the chair he carried next to your bed, his hand still holds yours. you don't move to let him sleep more, it's uncomfortable for him but he once told you he can sleep at anywhere in any position so you trust his word.

you try to go back to sleep, looking at your hero. you can't help but stroking the back of his hand with you thumb. "do you feel better?" james whispers, already awake but still in his sleeping position.

"yes." you whisper back. "you can sleep next to me if you want. i promise i won't cough on you."

he moves under the darkness of your room. he got rid of his jacket hours ago and he quickly settles down on your bed after he puts his glasses on your nightstand. he's more brave when it's dark, you realize. you like this new progress.

he pulls you to his arms, his chest becomes your new pillow. he holds you closer, until your breathing goes normal. "you can cough anytime you want, angel. i have a good immune system."

you smile against his chest. it's the best sleep you had in weeks when you finally close your eyes.

[allyheart707]

1 Year Comic Collab - PART 2

<- Part One

THANK YOU to everyone who has joined this collab and everyone else who has stuck with me through this year of my comic! I am so so so thankful for all of you guys! This comic has gotten me out of my comfort zone, helped me find friends, and taught me SO much about art and animation. I would NOT have stuck with it so long if it wasn't for all of your support. <3 <3 <3

A special thank you to @bambiraptorx who helped A TON in setting up the ID's for this comic, @kitmay05 who helped with advice and writing the extra IDs that were left unfinished, @cupkatwarrior9 who also helped a ton with advice and IDs, and @nootdhoodle who created and modded my discord server for me!!

Credits in order top to bottom: @kitmay05. @rainyraisin, @averagetmntfan (line art) & @cosmocafe (color), @flour-consumer, @dianagj-art , @3mutantsinatrenchcoat , @chaos-potat , @irequirealobotomy , @koolaidashley , @risebabyx2 , @clown-froggi , @riseleon , @beetleviolet , @karonkar , @brightonstudios , @cupkatwarrior9 , @bambiraptorx , @fxliciq-a , @truths33k3r4 , and last but not least, @nootdhoodle

[ID: Panel 21- Carol sitting in the middle of a bunk bed, Mikey cuddled up close arms and legs wrapped around Carol. Donnie sitting to the side getting head pats from Carol. She is saying, "once upon a time...". Both boys' tails are wagging.

Panel 22- Huginn hovering in the air saying, "there was a great warrior." Leo tucked in looking so excited he's sparkling. Muninn floats nearby also looking exited.

Panel 23- Heishi lying in his bed. He is so excited that his eyes are shining stars and his mouth is agape. Hugin off screen says "He could beat anyone or anything with just his hands!!"

Panel 24- A digital drawing of Huginn with his arms and wings spread, though part of his body isn't in the frame. He has a happy expression on his face and his mouth is widely opened. His text bubble says "And every time he won, he would give the crowd a big smile and shout-". The drawing is watermarked by flour-consumer.

Panel 25- Hugin and Munin fly behind Heishi, the three are throwing their fists to the air cheering "Hot Soup!" image watermarked by dianagj-art.

Panel 26- Transitions to Raph bedroom which is decorated with glow in the dark stars and movie posters. On a red bed sits Raph who is excitedly listening to his father tell him the story off screen "But more importantly, he was very good looking."

Panel 27- Raph, sitting on his bed, looks disappointed. Splinter is off screen but a speach bubble with his face in it shows that he is laughing at his sons reaction.

Panel 28- Splinter’s ears drop and his face falls into a frown, sitting on the rug beside Raphael’s bed. Raphael, laying on the bed, looks confused and concerned. The room is colorful, with childish toys and posters, and the blanket and rug are red, his color. It is watermarked with “irequirealobotomy” in purple text.

Panel 29- Splinter looking away with a sad expression saying "Then one day... they dissapearred without a trace". The background is a gradient from orange to purple.

Panel 30- Mikey, Carol and Donnie sit on Donnie’s bed. Mikey holds his stuffed bunny George and Carol’s arm as his tail wags. Donnie throws his arms in the air. “What? But… where did he go?! You can’t just disappear…” He squints in deep thought his hand now at his face. “Can you? Maybe…” He points his finger as his eyes light up with ideas. “Maybe he is being hidden, like us! Or-” Watermarked risebabyx2 in the bottom corner.

Panel 31- Mikey and Donnie, sitting on Donnie’s bed. Donnie with a worried expression, mumbling until interrupted by Mikey who excitedly asks; “Do you think we will ever meet him!?” The image is watermarked by clown-froggi.

Panel 32- Carol looking away from Mikey and Donnie somberly, fiddling with her hands. Image is marked on the top left with RiseLeon.

Panel 33- Mikey sitting hugging his legs on the bed. His pink rabbit, George, hugged close. Carol sitting next to him, putting his head, saying "one day, I hope you can do anything you put your mind to." Donnie sitting on her other side looking slightly sullen. Water marked with purpleviolet at the top middle.

Panel 34- Carol tucking in Donnie while Mikey sits beside her. All are smiling. Image is watermarked by Karonkar.

Panel 35- Carol tucking in Mikey on the top bunk bed. Mikey is smiling as he snuggles his stuffed bunny. Carol smiles and pulls the cover over him. Image is watermarked by brightonstudios.

Panel 36- Carol stands in the doorway, facing the dark hall outside. Her hand rests against the edge of the frame. She is looking back over her shoulder, smiling fondly. She is saying "Goodnight, boys." Image is marked at the bottom right by CupKatWarrior9

Panel 37- Mikey sleeps on his stomach, George next to his hand. His blanket mostly covers his legs and the bottom of his shell, with one foot sticking out. Watermarked Bambiraptorx.

Panel 38- Donnie sleeping peacefully in his bed, mouth slightly open.

Panel 39- Heishi asleep in his bed, blankets tightly wrapped around him with a smile on his face. Signed MD in the bottom right.

Panel 40- Raph is asleep in his bed with an arm above his head. Light from the open door illuminates a portion of the room while the rest of it is shadowed. End ID.]

[jade-jini]

soft dom kazuha hehehehe wheeeeeeeen jade 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

(My baby Zuha is so gentle, almost makes me doubt she can dom sometimes)

tw: idk if it counts as ed, there’s a little part where reader ain’t big on eating but Zuha helps her with it. Just putting it here in case.

I think dom Zuha is big on praising and encouraging. Both in and out of bed. Like you’d be on your desk, clearly stressing about work, and she’d walk behind you and stop to give you a hot drink, a little shoulder massage and also shake you a bit lol and goes all “you can do it let’s go!”, making you laugh at her silliness, and she’s just happy to do so, leaving a kiss on your face as she leaves you to continue your work.

Once you come back with good news about the work submitted, she’ll hug you and all you hear is “that’s my girl” “I’m so proud of you.” “I knew you could do it, you’re amazing”, etc :3

If you had a hard day tho, she’s rather a bit quiet, letting you talk as she cuddles you, just going “mhm” so you know she’s paying attention. She would try to come up with a way to fix whatever the problem is, as well as telling you that what you did was good, and that she’s sorry it didn’t go the way you wanted, sympathizing with you about the issue. Feeling heard actually helps, and the warm hugs and kisses your girlfriend gives you, as well as her sweet words in between, yeah. There’s no way you can be sad for a long time when you have her.

Gentle dominance! I personally believe Kazuha can look a little intimidating when she looks serious 😭 but let’s be honest she’s such a sweet thing ahhhh. She doesn’t threaten you with punishments or anything like that. Rather she will be kind when speaking to you, but it’s clear when she’s telling and not asking. You’ve gained better habits thanks to her though.

“I’m not hungry, Zuha.” You’d say, but your girlfriend knows you haven’t had anything that day, and it’s past lunch time. Kazuha looks at you with a calm expression, but her tone is different from the cute voice she uses with you sometimes.

“You are eating, don’t argue with me.” She says, and her voice sends shivers down your spine. “It’s for your own good, my love. Can’t spend the day like that. Be good and listen to mommy, yes?” She whispered this last part only for you to listen of course. “Here, at least try some of my soup if you’re not that hungry.” And how can you say no? Specially when she’s sweetly feeding you lol. With time, now it was you who’d ask what she’d like for lunch ‘cause you were hungry, and when you started doing this she felt so happy knowing you had a healthier meal schedule.

“Straight posture, darling.” She says with her hand on your back, and the moment you feel her touch you obey. Same could be told in bed.

You guys are in your shared room at night, her kisses making you drunk already as she takes your jacket and shirt off. Of course you help her too, almost drooling at the view of her abs even though you’ve seen them a thousand times. Kazuha loves the reaction you have when seeing her body, one of the several motivations she has to continue going to the gym. As you leave kisses on her torso, she opens the drawer of the little nightstand next to your bed, and gets one of your favorite toys, silently asking you. Excitement traveling your body, you nod and help her with the rest of her clothes, staying on your knees as she gets the strap on ready.

“Bend over for me, will ya?” She asks, and the moment you feel her touch (and the strap teasing your clit from behind) you obey:). Her hand on your lower back pushing you down. “Good girl.” The praise resonating in your brain and you need more. She knows this. “My pretty girl, so wet already. We just started.”

And as soft as she might sound, she sure knows how to fuck you hard. Grabbing your hips as she focus all her energy into creating the perfect pace. Deep. Fast. Anything that will hit those spots that get you drooling all over your pillow. As your moans get louder and turn into sobs, she stops and pulls you up by the hair, keeping you in place as she asks “You ok?” you wonder how can her voice sound so calm?? She barely lets you nod before continuing “ok good.” And there she goes again, pounding you so good until your legs burn.

“Zuha~ please… fuck!” You cried as she keeps hitting your favorite spot, tears going down your face because of the overwhelming pleasure “mommy, please.. right there, yes~”.

“There, my baby? Is my darling feeling a little too good? Look at you, you look so beautiful when I fuck you like this, princess.” showering you in compliments before, during, and after you come. You never can’t not feel loved and desired when is Kazuha making you hers like that.

Now wait. ‘Cause teasing. She’s BIG on teasing, it’ll always get a smile of a giggle out of her to see and hear your reactions. Specially in public. When she grabs your thigh and squeezes for no reason, a little gasp or even moan escaping your lips? That makes her laugh 😭 when she whispers dirty things in your ear in Japanese, knowing damn well you either didn’t understand or barely caught a few words. However her deep voice is enough to get you going, there’s just something about the way she sounds when speaking her mother tongue like that to you. Enough for desire to be written all over your face, and when you think she’s gonna take you somewhere private, she’s just holding her laugh as she walks away, making you groan in disappointment.

“Not fair, Zuha.” You tell her once you catch up with her, holding her arm. She simply laughs at you, and pats your head before kissing your forehead.

“Be good and I’ll give you anything you want at home, my baby.” She says and you know she means it, so you simply nod and hug her tight, getting wrapped in her arms as well to protect each other from the cold weather <3.

[proshipconfessions]

I hate obscenity laws, and I hate the fact that I can’t argue against them prima facie because then everyone would think I’m some kind of dangerous person. Based on the Miller Test, the ONLY things that are going to be unprotected due to alleged obscenity are pornographic works. I think in terms of speech that’s allowed, there’s a lot worse out there than porn. Furthermore the “lacks serious political/scientific/literary/artistic value” criteria is so bullshit. It’s so fucking arbitrary and frankly, I think the “average person” upon whom the Miller Test is based is probably an idiot whose moral compass is based on vibes and emotions.

Most serious laws are based on criminalizing things that are HARMFUL. Fraud is a crime because you’re infringing on a person’s property. SA is a crime because it’s violence and infringement on a person’s bodily autonomy. Drunk driving is a crime because it endangers everyone around you, yourself, and the community’s property and infrastructure.

“Obscene” in the colloquial sense just means “offensive to moral principles; repugnant”! i.e. “gross” So? A lot of things are gross or offensive, but when those things are criminalized, we call that a dumb law! New Jersey law against slurping soup? Why, because someone might get annoyed? Tough shit, they don’t enforce that dumbass law because we all know that slurping soup ain’t harmful, just annoying.

Omaha, Nebraska, parents could be arrested if their child can’t hold back a burp in church because the other attendees might be scandalized? WHOOO CARES, if the spiritual experience is genuinely HARMED by a little burp then God should smite that child himself, because it being legally enforced by humans is DUMB.

The reason that all this pressure and laws trying to ban all sorts of queer expression are stupid is because it harms nobody to exist queerly, and the reasons that people want to ban it all is because of their sensitive little precious conservative feelings of Not Liking It :(

Yeah, porn can get pretty nuts, but everyone’s mileage is gonna vary on what they consider too hardcore and what they consider to be serious political/scientific/literary/artistic value. Plus like… the ONLY things that are gonna get branded Obscene, at least in the US, are things that “appeal to the prurient interest,” AKA, intended for someone to get off to. SO? 1. Anything could be used for someone to get off to. I could post a picture of my bathroom counter and eventually it could reach someone who’d get hot and bothered by it. And more importantly, 2. “Prurient interests” are not inherently lesser. Getting off is part of the human experience, a HARMLESS part of it in most cases. It’s so stupid that lewdness is considered almost mutually exclusive with artistic value in a lot of ways. I’m sorry, I thought the point of art was to stir emotions and the human experience. Horny is an emotion! Art doesn’t (or at least shouldn’t) be criminalized if it stirs sadness or fear or joy! Tragedy, horror, and comedy all have artistic value to the human experience, and can be executed well or poorly, just like erotically-intended work!

Uuuugghhh if the concept of obscenity has a million haters, I am one of them, and if the concept of obscenity has no haters, I am no longer on this earth.

———

[spiderism]

Miguel’s conducting a census on the spider-verse when he lands himself on 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇-𝟐𝟏𝟑𝟕 – has no prior information since this is his initial visit, but on first glance recognizes that this is Nueva York; that usually means that the local superhero is Miguel O’Hara, or at least another variant of him. Only he finds out that here, it’s actually someone named Web-Shot, a souped-up version of his own late wife.

"Cariño." It was easier to say before – when everything was right, when his entire world hadn't collapsed in on itself. Now, the word feels strange. His brain reacts as if no time's passed at all; it takes effort for his mouth to form around each of the vowels and the consonants, though – like a rusted cog forced into service after being made stiff from years of disuse. 

And while you may walk and talk like her, you’re not. He tells himself not to be fooled by the way your face lights up when you see him, by the way your laughter fills the space between the two of you, and by the way you still tell jokes at his expense. 

But then you take the few steps necessary to close the distance to get to him, wrap your arms around his frame like he’s just come home after a long day of being out. It’s all too familiar – your body folding into his, how well the pieces fit together, the softness that he remembers so well; it’s every single inch of his wife that had been catalogued and filed away in the back of his mind for safekeeping – dust-ridden archives that he’d never thought he’d dig up again. You’re a memory in the flesh. 

“Web-Shot, because—”

“You shoot webs. That’s cute,” he says in a dry tone. 

“Alright, then. Let’s hear yours. You got something better?”

“Spider-man. It’s simple. Clean. Rolls off the tongue.”

“Wow, original. Was ‘Daddy Long Legs’ already taken?”

“Oh, you’ve got jokes. I see your sense of humor is consistent.”

“It’s why you fell for me, isn’t it?”

“Among other things,” he murmurs. “Pain in my ass—”

He asks where your Miguel is, needs to know if the two of you are together, but finds out that he died three months ago – fell from a clocktower during a bad fight he wasn’t supposed to be at, snapped his neck clean in half from the tension when you tried to catch him with your webbing and he ricocheted back up from the concrete like a damn bungee cord. The ring was in his pocket; he was supposed to propose that night before everything went to shit. So your time ended with him fast, early. Before you even really got to start your lives together. 

And this other Miguel, the one who shows up in your universe alive (sure) and well (debatable), gives you some insight to his world. His wife was a romantic – an idealist, a dreamer. He’s always been pragmatic – a man of science, an engineer, doing everything within his realm of possibility to make her visions come true. It’s been a long time since he talked about his history and his family: how he proposed, where they had the wedding, his daughter – the way everything was good and perfect until it wasn’t. 

After spending the night with you on the Empire State Building, he realizes how much you’re like his wife. It hits him hard, brings up too many emotions to the surface that he’d been tamping down all these years.

Nothing about any of this is fair. And it’s sad, heartbreaking. Especially—

“I didn’t get to grow old with you.”

“We could’ve had a lifetime together and it still wouldn’t have been enough. You get that, right?”

You convince him to stay. Try to, at least. He can be your Miguel, and it would all be so easy. He can take his retired wedding ring off the chain around his neck and slip it on where it belongs. 

But it’s not possible. He tells you that much – what can happen, the repercussions that ripple out and affect the multiverse web. Because he’s already attempted that – wouldn’t have given up without trying to get you back.

A part of him wants you to say it one last time. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Instead, he gets:

“Every version of me loves every version of you. And even though I haven’t gotten to see it for myself, I know that there’s no universe where that isn’t true.”

Before he leaves, you ask if he thinks there’s any chance the two of you are allowed to be happy, allowed to live normal lives in all of the places he’s seen. 

He tells you that he has: breakfast on the balcony, slow Sunday mornings, and weekend fútbol tourneys with your daughter. This story ends on a good note, but he doesn’t mention that it only exists inside his head.

[igotanidea]

The remedy: Jason Todd x reader

(part 2 of how to be a good boyfriend series)

As of late Y/N was sad and tired and dealing with a whole whirlwind of negative emotions stemming from work overstimulation and pressure on her shoulders. Coming home exhausted, falling asleep on the couch, bordering the sickness but refusing to take some days off.

And it switched something in Jason’s head.

He was constantly around, asking her a whole amount of questions of what she’d like him to do for her, how could he be of help, how to ease her pain and make her days at least a little more bearable. Trying to the top of his abilities to be a good boyfriend, instead becoming the source of her headaches and irritation. And though the intension behind his behavior was quite obvious, and Y/N was doing her best to not lash out on him for being annoying, her willpower was wearing thin. Only waiting to snap and unleash the hell. All he had to do was just one more word, one more mistake that would push her over the edge.

It was only a matter of time.

***

“I made you a soup.” He smiled, being so proud of himself. Y/N was always fond of his dishes and now he was about to serve her a full three course meal with the dessert, having spent a few hours preparing something healthy to boost her mood and enhance her impaired health. “Come on, wash your hands, princess and I’ll set the table—”

“Stop…” she hissed, massaging her temples. “Just stop. Stop. Stop!”

“Y/N? What- what did I do? What happened? Is there something I can--?”

“Just stop fucking talking!”

If the command wasn’t enough to make him go silent, he would do it just out of sheer confusion mixed with hurt. Why was she mean while he was trying so hard to be there for her?

“I’m tired—” it took the great amount of self-control to form and say those words in hope he’ll understand he was making her feel trapped and suffocating.

“Okay. It’s okay princess. Do you maybe want to get some rest? We can eat later, I’ll make your bed and-“

“Ugh! Stop it Jason! Stop offering me so many things!”

“But-“

“Just shut up!”

Ouch. That must have hurt him and it reflected in his eyes and in his entire posture. Jason Todd just froze in the middle of the kitchen with a soup bowl in his hands, looking at her as if she was someone he didn’t know.

“I’m sorry – “ she whined realizing the damage done. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be mean-“

“I failed you again…”

“No, no you didn’t fail, it’s just-“ her voice faltered before she could finish the sentence. How was she supposed to tell him what the problem was while the right words just won’t come out to her head.

“I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

Great, now he was getting dramatic and turning into a giant, sad, beaten dog. Probably the last thing she needed and she was definitely not in the mood to try to placate him. Not while she was struggling to not fall apart herself while everything seemed too much.

“Jason—”

“It’s okay Y/N. It’s a fact and there’s nothing you can do with it. Clearly not even with those lessons you’ve been giving me.”

“One lesson. We had one lesson and it could hardly be called that. It was more like an advice to not listen to Grayson-“

“And still I’m not making any progress with it.”

“Lesson two.” She muttered, her head starting to kill her. “You don’t have to be my remedy to everything.”

“huh?” Jason frowned a little giving her a funny look.

“You don’t have to offer me stuff, come up with ways to make shit better, overwhelm me with choices and options. You don’t.”

“I don’t? But—”

“No. Sometimes, you just have to be. Let me whine, let me be weak without trying to uplift me. And not turn into my remedy to every word problem.”

“So like a pillow in case you are a crybaby?” He smirked and apart from the obvious tease she couldn’t deny Jason was a fast learner, regardless of his own opinion on the matter.

“Don’t push it.” She warned.

“Oh I’ll push it all the way. Now that I know you don’t want me to make you feel better-“

“HEY! I didn’t mean I want you to make me feel worse! You’re twisting my words. “

“Sure.” Jason shrugged casually, taking the perfect excuse to put his specific sense of humor on. “What were you expecting?”

“You’re such a jerk….”

“Just listening to your lessons love. It’s up to you how you’ll bring me up.” Jason laughed pulling her to the couch and trapping in his embrace and she knew she was about to get at least a few hours of teasing and mean jokes. But she wouldn’t have it any other way

“I’m gonna have to be careful with what I say from now on….”

“Yeah, you better. “

They snuggled close together enjoying the silence and the comfort of just being together.

[jester089]

I’d love some readerxTADC charachter sickfics :)?

Bed ridden

I am back at writing again. At least for now. Requests are still closed until I finish all or at least most of the ones I got while I was gone.

Also you didn't specify if you wanted like fluff. So I just went with what first came to mind. Sick TADC Crew x Sick Reader (Both variants)

Caine (Receiving)

Caine getting sick is rare at best. When he does the whole circus suffers. Even just a cough is awful, every time he coughs the entire area around him stutters and glitches misplacing everything. Because of this whenever he's sick he tends to self isolate not wanting to cause trouble for the others. Now depending on how comfortable he is with you, you'll have varying accessibility. If he's really comfortable you essentially have easy access to any and everything in the circus. This includes his room and office. Sadly their isn't much you can do to help him get better faster, but he really appreciates just having you there. If you really want to help, keep the circus from burning down during his short absence. And give him some handmade soup, the sentimentality and love in it helps him feel better. At least mentally, which speeds up his physical recovery. Do be warned when giving him the soup don't get to close to him. If their is something strong enough to get Caine sick it will most likely kill you.

Caine (Giving)

He as has been mentioned doesn't really understand humans, and by extension their physical ailments. That is why all his adventures are so rough on everyone. Despite that sickness is one of the few things he does understand, only really because their is a digital version of it. Just explain to him that you have a virus (even if it's not) and he'll get the gist. Best at comfort, can and will get you everything you want while your sick. And he doesn't get sick easily so you will get the same amount of attention and affection as before with minimal repercussions at worst. Caine is always loud, and isn't exactly gentle with anyone or thing, so make sure to tell him the things you need to get better. Like quiet, dark, a specific type of food that usually helps. Ask and it's yours, but you have to ask. Or he wont know. Don't ask him to cook for you though, cause I promise you it will either come out burned or so badly seasoned that it isn't even edible. And your recovering body needs meals to get better faster or at all. When you are sick Caine can get a little protective. Usually he trust you and lets you do what you want, you're an adult after all. But when your sick you seem so fragile to him. So no leaving your room, 3 meals if not more a day, more water then your body actually needs, and if he catches you out of bed when you aren't going to the bathroom he can and will force you back. He's a little much and little forceful, but you'll get better faster when he's around. And he'll do his best, he just needs some guidance.

Gangle (Receiving)

A sick Gangle is a sad Gangle. She's pretty pushover-ish usually. But when she's sick she just takes abuse because she already feels awful. So until she's feeling better be prepared to be a live-in maid and a body guard. Sick Gangle is a lot like a wet noodle. Just her mask alone has enough weight to make her fall over when sick so try and keep her in her room and in her bed, for her sake. Do be warned that the chance of Gangle getting you sick is literally 100%. Cuddles make her feel a whole lot better, so she constantly wines at you wanting you to lay with her. And she can and will crawl out of her bed and after you if you deny her to many times. We both know you aren't gonna say no to pathetic sick wet noodle Gangle. She'll wrap around you in a hold so light you can't even feel it and just fall asleep on you. That's how her being sick usually goes. And when you eventually but inevitably get sick she'll take care of you just as you did her.

Gangle (Giving)

I don't even have to say it, but I will. Gangle got you sick. End of story. And she's still recovering from her sickness. So you being sick usually just ends up with you two being bed ridden. But on the bright side it's literal 24/7 cuddles. I mean I doubt she'll let you so much as roll over without her. She's clingy, but you know you love her. And she loves you. Now if you're sick and she isn't she'll do her best to take care of you. She doesn't know how to cook or anything. But she'll make sure you always have water and your bed is clean-ish. And she'll stay with you. If you're sick and stuck in bed then she's stuck in the room you are. Basically if one of you gets sick, both of you get sick. Just a common cold can turn into something so much worse with Gangle. She doesn't try to she just doesn't like being away from you too long, especially when your weak like this. It's gross and not pleasant to live sure. But hey, both of your immune systems get really really strong every time one of you gets sick. And if sharing goopy nasty sick times together isn't love I don't know what is.

Zooble (Receiving)

Zooble strikes me as the kind of person who knows a concerning amount about just about every sickness in existence. Sadly all that knowledge doesn't help her much here. This is a digital sickness, it doesn't exist in the real world. Despite that she can most definitely feel her way through it using what she does know. All you have to do is listen to her, and if it's really bad interpret what her half mumbled ramblings mean. With her help, and your love and care she'll be feeling better in no time. Zooble is short fused and irritable at the best of times. She tries to hold off with you cause she really does care about you. But when her body is what feels like 300* and her brain is fuzzy she can't control what comes out of her mouth. So if she says so hurtful things just try not to hold it against her and talk with her about it when she's feeling better. And I guarantee she didn't mean it. She just feels like she's about to melt. Have you ever been sick while made out of digital plastic? I didn't think so. So try and cut her some slack.

Zooble (Giving)

As aforementioned I feel like Zooble knows a lot about sicknesses. And again that doesn't help much here. But it gives her a really good base to work with. Honestly though being sick with her feels a lot like boot camp. She doesn't let you get up unless you need the bathroom, pills can and will be taken on time, gross but incredibly healthy foods and drinks will be given and she expects you plate to be clean, an overwhelming amount of heat that puts your body through hell, and she doesn't get within 6 feet of you unless it's dropping something off for you in which case she's only close for a moment. It'll be awful, trust me it will. But you will get better so unreasonably quick. With her there you could get over something like the flu in a day, maybe two. And once you are feeling better she softens up a lot. Once you are no longer sick (be her standards) she will be really soft with you. Gentle hand holding and hugs. Sleepy cuddles. Tasty but unhealthy food. Movie nights. And her going out of her way to be verbally nice. She knows that you were already suffering, and she made it worse even if she was helping. So she's going to treat you for a while. Give it like a week and she'll be back to normal. Unless you basically beg her in which it'll last a little longer. Only a little. She can't let her reputation and a cold person be tarnished. And giving someone a gentle forehead kiss in public really tarnishes that.

Kinger (Receiving)

When Kinger is sick all he really wants is to sleep. No matter where he is he'll be out. It is your job my dear Reader to get him to the safety of one of your rooms. Cause out in the open he is an easy target for Jax. Once he is safe and sound in one of your rooms he feels more cozy and will probably wake up. His hands float so you two can still hold hands and do basic affection without risk of you getting sick. Kinger wont never get you sick, I promise you that. He will literally shove you away from him. He has already lost a lot in this place and he isn't going to risking you. So keep some distance while caring for him. For his sake cause it stresses him out a lot when you get to close. Also keep a washcloth on hand, he strikes me as the kind of person who when sick wants a hot body but a cold forehead. Once he's feeling better he will probably ask you to join him in resting, total rainy day vibes despite it never raining in the circus. Just a relaxing, cold, and dark room to chill in. He can and will start crying when you fall asleep with him then and there. You stayed with him this whole time. He's just so happy to have you around and with him.

Kinger (Giving)

Kinger is amazing at comfort, but doesn't really know what he's doing with sicknesses. He's been in the digital circus so long he's actually forgoten how to be a human. He'll do the basics like water and soup but past that he's lost. So he does what he knows and remembers, plus whatever you tell him you need/want. He makes wherever your staying so cozy. If he can't put your body at peace he can at least put your mind at peace. Coldish and dark room, one of his hands linked with yours another rubbing gentle circles into your back. If he sees you having a bad dream he'll gently kiss your forehead or place something cold on it to help. If you ever seem to be in pain he'll just talk, about nothing really. He'll talk so you have something to focus on besides the pain. Spouting random facts about a cool bug he saw that reminded him of you, about Jax's latest "prank", about how much he loves you. And if you really want him to he will join you in bed. He knows he's probably going to get sick because of it. But he just wants you to feel comfortable. He isn't forceful in the least too. If you tell him you need something or that something usually helps he'll trust you. Just for his sake don't do to much cause it will worry him. 10/10. Has no idea what he's doing but he cares so much and it shows.

Ragatha (Receiving)

Ragatha doesn't get sick often. She used to when she first got here. But always putting herself in danger or risk to help others has made her tough in many ways. When she does get sick it's going to hit her hard. All she wants from you is to know you're there, and that you still love her despite this. She wont let you get to close, she's infected and she doesn't want you to be. The best you can do for her is keep distance and keep reassuring her you love her. Just like Caine I don't recommend getting to close because things that can get her sick are a really strong. And for f#$% sake keep Jax away from her. She's a tough one though and will try to get out of bed way to early. It is up to you to keep her in bed and care for her. She can be really stubborn, and this is a case where that is awful to deal with. Just give her love, but from a distance. That's all she wants, all she needs and she'll get better quick. And when she is better she will thank you so many times for taking care of her. Secret between friends this is the ideal time to fluster her. Just a quick kiss on her hand or in between the eyes and she'll turn beet red.

Ragatha (Giving)

She goes full mom when you're sick. Don't get me wrong she's usually the mom friend. But when your sick she is just mom. She'll tuck you in, fluff your pillow, get you water but put some flavoring in it so it goes down easier, exclusively speak to you in a soft voice, brushing a hand or hands through your hair, will full on punch someone if they try something while your sick. You know, typical mom stuff. Ok but actually beware her punches. They hit like a truck. Just like Caine she gets a little, protective. And she babies you. It can be annoying. But it does also help, makes you feel safe and cared for. She's sit by your bed reading you something and fall asleep still in the chair. Her poor back... Do ragdolls have backpain? Can and will keep you in bed a day or two extra just to be sure. She isn't taking any chances. Also she kind of enjoys being able to take care of you like this. Overall pretty good. She helps and makes it a bit easier to get through, but also makes you feel like a child.

Jax (Receiving)

The little s&#$ would without a doubt use you being sick and weak to "prank" you. He took you outside to "Get some fresh air" as he called it then shoved you into the digital lake and walked off not caring if your drowned. When you come back soggy and now inside feeling even worse he'll laugh at you. He's a real d%#$head and you not being able to defend yourself makes it so much more fun for him. I mean why do you think he mainly picks on Gangle. Eventually though he will soften up, a little. He still isn't going to do anything fancy but he'll give you some water and snacks and make sure no one bothers you. Once you start feeling better I can see it going two ways. 1. Softer Jax: Helps you get better and apologizes for the whole lake thing. He'll be a bit nicer for a few days to try and make up for it. He does genuinely feel bad. He's trying to be nicer to you cause he loves you. 2. More cannon Jax: You don't get better for much longer. He put something in the food and water so you don't truly get better. You just start to feel slightly better so you get hopeful before you feel 100x worse. And to make things better he can and will laugh at pathetic sick you.

Jax (Giving)

As you all know I don't think he deserves someone to take care of him while sick. Despite this actual me would probably still take care of him. I'm to caring for my own good. When Jax gets sick he hides it and tries to ignore it, going through his days like normal. Which of course leads even the most basic sicknesses to be awful on him. He'll full on try and fight you when you try and help him. It's going to be hard but try and get him some sleep, and water. It will be really rough. But it is possible. The hardest part by far is getting him in bed, past that it's pretty easy. He fights it till he realizes how comfy his bed is, and how tired he is. After that it's just like taking care of anyone else, besides all the rude comments flung at you. Once he's up and making people's days worse again he wont thank you. And he doesn't now and never will say it. But he does appretiate what you do for him. "I'll take it easy on em..... For a week.... That's definitely too much, they get a day."

Pomni (Receiving)

When Pomni is sick she just collapses, usually on you. The clearest sign that she's feeling awful sickness or not is when she wanders around looking for you. When she finds you she kind of just flops onto you not saying anything. She much like Gangle wants you close while she's sick but wont outright say it. She's more of a rolls out of bed falling onto the floor with a loud thump making you think she broke something. Then when you pick her up worried she just snuggles into you acting like she didn't just fall out of bed face first... She still gets flustered and all being so close to you but when she's sick it doesn't really register. She just likes being near you, and will definitely fall asleep on you. She has so many worries and it always on the verge of another breakdown, but when she's sick she can't think even if she wanted to. All that matters is here and now. And here and now you two are cuddling. So she's happy.

Pomni (Giving)

Oh no. She is going to panic. Bad. "Sicknesses are common in the real world. But what about here! Are you dying?! ARE YOU ABSTRACTING?!" She doesn't know what is truly going on, what's going to happen, or how to help. So just do your best to calm her down and explain it's like a normal sickness, just digital. Once she understands that she calms down, a little. She's still stressed but isn't full on freaking out anymore. And she will start actually helping. She isn't super educated on this subject but she knows basic stuff. With Pomni is when it will feel the most like normal, like real life. Just taking it slow, letting your body do what it needs. Her checking in every now and again to see how your doing. It's nice in a way. Once you start feeling better she's going to start visiting/checking in more. It was hard for her being in a room with you when you can't even make conversation, made her anxiety flare up. But once you can talk regularly or at least close to it again things will return to just about how they were before. She will be ever so slightly more clingy for a few days afterwards though. You're such an anchor for her in this place and she got so used to you. But they you couldn't help her and she had to help you. Made her realize just how much you mean to her, how much you do for her.

(First request back. Hope you enjoyed it. I'm so tired. But I'll try and do another before I go to bed. And for future reference please try to trim out a character or two cause writing all that is a lot. Or at least specify if you want Reader the one sick or the character. Thank you!)

xoxo, Jester

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 romantic dinner rookanis enjoy 🪶

"What are you doing?" Rook lets him guide her with her arms extended like a child at a play party.

"We're having dinner. Trust me."

"Oh, Lucanis, you know I do. But we already had a warm meal today, remember?"

"That sad excuse of a beef stew we had at the celebration in the Swan barely counts as warm, let alone a meal."

"You're sure I can't peek?"

She tugs at his hands, and he can see her eyes strain against the satin scarf he'd bound around her face.

"You're a Crow, Rook. Tell me what you know." She hums.

"No fireplace crackling, so we're neither in the dining hall nor the library. We didn't walk through a plant space, either, so we're not in the conservatory. Acoustics are deliberately dimmed - like a meditative, personal space would be. But it smells neither like cedarwood nor tea tree oil, so we're not in the pantry or the meditation room."

"Mmh, tell me more."

She breaks into a brilliant smile.

"Keep saying that, and I'll tell you anything you want to hear."

"I want to hear you figure it out."

She laughs, leaning easily into him as he pushes her to sit on the cushioned ground by her shoulders.

"If you wanted to fuck my face on a mountaintop, you could've just asked, you know? No need to blindfold me under the pretense of dinner."

"You wound me, Rook. I would never pretend about dinner!" He sits down next to her and kisses her. There's a small noise she chokes in her throat as he moves away.

"Sorry." She stretches through her shoulders and flips her hairpart back over her ear. "Right. Here's a breeze, small and warm, but still. We didn't walk through the Crossroads - you'd never take me there blind and unarmed - so we must still be in the Lighthouse."

She inhales, obnoxiously loud, as though she's trying to forego a handkerchief.

"Molten cheese, wine, fried dough... cinnamon sugar, and a candle from a pot warmer... definitely churros for dessert, and some sort of gratin before that. One with lots of cream and dill. Oh, cioccolata calda, too. On the warmer. Wait, thyme. Soup, too?"

"Very good."

"Have I earned my sight back, yet?"

"Humor me one last time?"

Her hands find his shoulders as though she'd never not touched him a day in her life.

"Curse this blindfold!" With one hand, she works at the knot behind her head, unravelling with an ease he should honestly expect of a fellow Crow.

"And curse dinner. Let me have you, querido. Please."

"I didn't go to all these lengths just to have you. At least look at my work."

She laughs as she leans away from him.

"Fine! I'll loo- oh. Oh. You've made it - where are we?"

"On that balcony, far above the courtyard, past that portalling office. I'm surprised the portals didn't clue you in."

She can't feel. The portals. No rush of Fade. No hurt in the eyes. Lucky Rook.

She doesn't hear his teasing comment, only barely holding on to the blindfold as though the slightest air would blow it into the ether. She blindly reaches for him, her other hand around his elbow in a well-practised motion.

"It looks like the Summer Solstice Festival in Treviso."

Rook looks around with wide eyes, taking in the plant pots, lanterns, blankets and rugs and cushions he brought up here. He'd even talked Davrin into putting up two big logs and spanned a wide linen stretch of fabric over it; a colorful, tassled shade he knows she likes.

"We missed it this year. I remember - you were upset about it. It was Spite's idea, though. Said to make some nicer memories, here."

She looks over the balcony.

"So you made the sun set in the Fade?"

It's not exactly setting, but with how far up they are (and the Lighthouse being the way that it is, he supposes), the skies beyond them has indeed started to shift into the deep purple just before the stars come out.

When she turns back to look at him, Spite sits at her other side, fingers clawing protectively, possessively, into her bare thigh, nuzzling his nose into her hair and kissing her ear. Rook leans into it.

She hadn't even changed out of the loose shorts she likes to wear for sleeping.

Her eyes are teary, but he knows they're not from sadness.

"With you, I only have nice memories." She leans deliberately into Spite, now, pressing her head against his face. "With both of you." Her fingers trace where she feels Spite's, and beside her, he grows incredibly still.

"You know that, right?"

"We do. Now, first course is tomato cream soup. Let's eat it before it grows lukewarm and unbearable."

"You made courses?" Rook's lower jaw drops open, even as she holds a soup bowl in each hand and watches him pour a ladle of his grandfather's recipe into them.

"Of course I made courses." Quickly, he glances over toward the railing, where all of his dishes sit on a stretch of tablecloth, lined up alongside one another like fence pickets. "If this were the real festival, and I took you out for dinner, I would make sure there's at least three courses, a side salad and garlic bread. And a digestivo after every dish."

A pause, as he puts a dollop of cream and chives in the center of each bowl.

"I hope this is as good as I remember it. It's my grandfather's recipe. I haven't had it since my father was killed."

Lucanis should have known that from the mere mention of his grandfather's cooking, Rook would be able to successfully deduce that it wasn't Caterina's husband, or her son, who passed along the recipe. Cooking has never been a skill she encouraged learning.

"So your mother is the Dellamorte?"

There's already cream on Rook's nose.

"Yes. Jacopa. She was Caterina's oldest. Her favorite, too. I'm told I look a lot like her. Short and wiry. But inside, I'm soft, like my father, Vianni."

Rook balances her bowl in her lap, and reaches over to squeeze his arm.

"You do them proud. I know it."

He knows it, too. But it feels good to hear her say it.

The soup doesn't hold up to the nostagia of coming home from schooling to find a steaming hot bowl of it waiting for him on the sunny windowsill.

But their dinner makes new memories. Memories at least as precious to him as the one of wiping out his soupbowl with Grandfather's fresh and piping hot bread.

"I missed you, you know."

"When? When you were so engrossed in your book you didn't hear me call you for dinner?"

"No! Well, yeah." She shrugs. "I always miss you when we're not together. It's good to have you close."

She goes on before he can react to that raw admission.

"I meant... you know. In the Prison."

Oh.

But she's all smiles when she looks at him.

"I thought, I miss Lucanis. I miss his stupid face, and his big dumb puppy eyes-"

He takes her bowl from her. She doesn't resist.

"And I miss the little scar on his lip and his plumage-y hair-"

He pushes aside the bread basket, now utterly empty, anyway.

"And his soft voice, and the rough one when Spite talks-"

SHE MISSED ME!

When he hooks his fingers into her beltloops and pulls her over, her hair lingers in Spite's hands for but a second, before the demon supports her low back without another thought.

The huff of air she pushes between their lips almost sounds like a cheer.

🪶

@chubritza called that place Solas' Crying Porch and I can't unsee it

also someone posted a fic the other day that mentioned lucanis' scar on his lip and i went HE HAS A SCAR ON HIS LIP???? and he dooo omg

This is a precursor for smashening lmao.

[~rina]

[johnwickb1tsch]

I demand when John met Helen (please?🥺)

Anything for you, my love! 😘😘😘

(this is an outline-ish thing from...last january? I don't know if ill ever truly write it out, so here's the whole caboodle)

warnings: violence, serious amts of shmoop

Helen goes to a rare book shop curious if they can fix the binding of her dog eared copy of Jane Eyre. They quote her an insane price. She has a meet cute with John in the shop. Maybe she's looking through the classics, trying to find a copy of Jane Eyre so she doesn't destroy her other one more. Maybe she tells him she can't afford to fix her copy. She brought it in to ask. He is sheepish about it, but he says he could fix it for her. “What would you charge?” 

“Nothing. It's a hobby for me. I do it for relaxation.” 

“Wow. Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. You'd be doing me a favor. I could use a new project.”

She cants her head, looking at him. Weighing him. He finds himself standing up a little straighter, hoping he'll make the cut. 

“Ok. But you at least have to let me buy you lunch.” 

“I would like that,” he admits. 

“Deal.” She holds out her hand to shake. He takes her small hand in his, and doesn't want to let go. 

So he fixes her book. 

They go to lunch. And when it's time to part ways, they don't really want to. They go for a walk. And keep talking. He shyly asks if he can take her to dinner. She agrees eagerly. They fall in love in the span of a week, or maybe just that one perfect day. 

They have a date set but John has to text her to say he's not feeling well. She offers to bring him soup. He says that sounds amazing, but he doesn't want her to see him like this. In truth, he was working, and things got out of hand. He's told her he works in security. But she is not prepared for how he looks. 

Black eye. Cuts on his face. Bruised ribs. Bruises everywhere, really. 

She worries that he's trying to break their date. Making up an excuse. He can hear it in her voice. Scared he’ll lose her, (and wanting badly to see her) he agrees to let her come over that night, not sure how it will go. 

He thinks about his Manhattan apartment. Expensive, modern, very few personal touches. He's afraid she'll hate it. 

When she comes over with takeout she is shocked, and teary eyed. Seeing him in pain like this hurts her. 

“Oh my god, John, what happened to you?” 

“Sometimes, my work gets a little...spicy?” 

Lol. She just looks at him. That look. 

“I'm guessing you can't actually tell me what happened.” 

With a sad smile he shakes his head. “I want to share everything I can with you,” he admits. “But some things, it's better you don't know.” 

She chews on her lip as he tells her this. He wonders if this will be their deal breaker. But in the end she nods. “Ok, John. I trust you.”

Hearing that makes him feel better than the pain pills he'd taken earlier. 

“We could...watch a movie?” he offers, thinking snuggling with her in his arms might fix him. 

“Okay.” 

He falls asleep halfway through, and she holds him, looking at his wounds. He looks so boyish and innocent in his sleep. She fights not to cry. 

To make up for ruining their date night he offers to cook her dinner. Afterwards they kiss, in front of the window, the lights of New York shining down below. He pulls her against him, squeezing her in his strong arms like he can't get enough of her. It steals her breath away, she wants him so much.

Later,  they're out and about. She hugs him under his suit jacket, feels a blocky shape at his back. “Are you...carrying a gun?” 

“Honestly, I'm usually carrying a gun,” he admits.

After the business that went sideways, he doesn't want to get caught unawares. He can tell she doesn’t like it, but trusts him enough to go along with it. 

“Ok…”

Something happens where she gets to see him in action. It's awesome... and scary, honestly. Maybe they're walking to his car when they're ambushed by five guys. The leader is like, “Evening, John.”

“This isn't a good time, Mickey.”

M looks between Helen and John with a leer. “No time like the present, I say.”

They fight, and John lays them all out. In the end he’s taken Micky’s gun and is about to shoot him in the face. It's instinct and reflex. Finish the job. But he hears a gasp behind him. Looks to see Helen looking terrified. So he disassembles the gun. Drops all the bullets into Mickey’s face before throwing the pieces at him. 

“Come on, sweetheart, let's go.” They drive away. She is in shock. 

Afterwards, they go park somewhere with a view of the city below. She is only looking at him though. “I scared you,” he says. It's not really a question. 

“Yes and no,” she answers honestly. “I don't believe you would ever hurt me.” 

“Good. It's the truth.” 

“But I…” She trails off.

“It's OK,” he sighs, feeling so tired inside. “You can say it.” 

“I'm not sure I really believe your job is legal, John.” 

He sighs and looks at the steering wheel. “You... might be right about that.” 

She nods. His heart is in his throat. This is it. This is how he loses her, he's convinced. And she has every right to leave. He never had any business pursuing her in the first place, but…it feels like dying. 

He waits for the axe to fall, his eyes squeezed closed. 

“I don't know how to reconcile the man I saw today, and the man I know who repairs books, and cooks me gourmet dinners, and takes me on long walks while holding my hand.” 

John rests his forehead on his steepled fingers. “I’ve...never really had a choice. I was trained from childhood, to do what I do, for very bad people. It doesn't excuse me...but it is what it is. Maybe I enjoyed it, once. I am not a good man. But now…” He looks at her, with the look of a drowning man. “I would give anything, just to have you.” 

There are tears in her eyes too, he realizes. 

“Do you have to do it, forever?” she asks. “Is there no way out?” 

He shakes his head, to himself as much as her. “It's very rare,” he tells her. “And very difficult.”

She nods, and moves closer. “Will you hold me?” 

“Always.” 

He pulls her in close, thinking he could die happy like this, with her in his arms. 

Later, he asks point blank. He has to know, he can't contain it. “Are you leaving me, Helen?”

He's so certain the answer is yes. She'll try to let him down softly. I'm not sure I can do this. It's not you, it's me. 

He can hardly believe his ears when she answers, “You're not getting rid of me that easily, John Wick.”

He's not sure if the sound he makes is a laugh or a sob. He kisses her, desperate for the affirmation of her love, hardly able to believe his luck. He feels like his heart might explode, for all the love he feels for this woman. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he growls as he kisses her like he might devour her. 

Likewise, she tells him with tears in her eyes and her fingers in his hair. “Don't stop kissing me.” 

“Never,” he tells her. 

The next week he finds himself buying a ring. 

And the week after that, he finds himself bargaining with Viggo Tarasov, his freedom in exchange for slaughtering all of the boss’s rivals in one mad night of mayhem. 

If anyone can do it, it’s John Wick.

[fun-k-board]

TMNT 2012 with a s/o on their period

Note(s): I wrote this with a ftm Reader in mind, but there are no gendered pronouns or gendered titles used.

Characters included: Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michealangelo, April O'Neil, Casey Jones.

Leonardo

Listen, as much of a leader and confident guy you may believe he is, he is still a mutant turtle who does not get periods and only knows because it was mentioned in a show once and he wanted to know more. He will not understand, beside the basics of 'bleeding down there, intense hormones, and sometimes unbearable pain depending on who you ask.'

If you're someone who goes through a lot of physical pain expect an overbearing mother figure now in your life, he will literally be there with all the advice he can find that'll help.

With the limited resources in the lair and the fact he can't exactly go shopping himself, he'll ask April or Casey to buy period products or pain relief tablets for you if you complain. Even if he's awkward and shy about asking, he doesn't want to burden you by making you wait for a reply over text or have to get up, the fact it helps you makes it worth it.

Soup is also good, he knows how to make traditional teas and soups for you, with great difficulty, and help from Splinter, that will lessen your stomach cramps. Though if you get cravings he may be a little less helpful, it's hard to get ingredients when you live in the sewers and are hated by most of the world.

If you like company he would stay off patrols once or twice, but he's fairly strict about his schedule and won't go too far off it, even if he wants to help you.

If you don't get much pain, he's still by you in his free time and asking questions, you're literally bleeding he's never going to stop worrying.

Whenever you talk to him he basically soaks in the words like a sponge and uses it to help you, a one off 'yeah, this food helps.' and he's on his knees begging for April to buy some.

Raphael

Raphael... I love him, but he needs help when it comes to this. I imagine most of the other turtles at least know the basics, Michaelangelo is the worst but he still knows what a period is, but Raph just never really cared enough to learn.

He knows that a period happens... But that's about it. So, if you're in intense or even a small amount of pain and or wake up with blood around you, he's freaking the hell out, he thinks you've been stabbed or something or maybe he accidentally hurt you with his sais as you slept.

If you explain he's sort of like 'yeah whatever, how do we stop it from hurting you?' and then he never leaves your side.

You run out of products? Step out the way Casey and April, he's sneaking in the shop and thieving- I mean, he's putting on a trenchcoat and hat to hide his turtleness, and buying the products like a good mutant ninja turtle should. But seriously, he doesn't trust the two to buy the right ones, he gets the exact brand right somehow, even if you never tell him what one you want.

He pushes the exercise side of it, even if it doesn't help much, exercise is something that helps him so when he hears it can help he doesn't research further. It takes you explaining that it not only depends on the person but the exercise for him to pout and let you lead.

Donatello

He'd probably panic for a while but then tries to look through a science lense, like, oh! You need to level your blood sugars in this week, these excersises will help you but these won't, make sure to keep your stomach warm so you can lessen the contractions and pain.

Gets a bit sad if you're the type to be more distant and want alone time on your period, especially if you don't like loud noises. Donatello usually has you watching him while he works on his science stuff, so when you aren't it's a demotivator.

Ends up completely abandoning his work just to follow you around like a sad puppy, tending to your every need or waiting outside your room for a text from you if you need something.

If you want him around he's a lot more easy going, if you don't mind sitting in the lab with him while he works then he's all for it, of course he's checking on you every once and a while, and will talk when he wants to, but it comes from him wanting to help you.

If you have health issues caused by your period or your period is made worse by your health issues he's helping you a lot, he knows a lot about human anatomy and how to help ease pain, especially since April and Casey started hanging out with the Turtles more often.

He has a whole section of a diary dedicated to you, and that includes your period, when you're due, what food you've told him helps you, what foods you've said make it worse, what pain you usually describe as, etc, etc.

Michealangelo

Michaelangelo is 100% the type of guy who just goes along with what you want because he wants to help, he probably knows that you bleed, you get mood swings, and you're in pain. And that's all he needs to know.

He's watching you for your entire cycle and just PRAYING nothing bad will happen, gives you all the food you want, no matter how unusual. This can sometimes make it worse, because cravings aren't always foods that will help you, and he feels really really bad if that happens.

He tries to hold himself back on just giving you whatever you want, but when you look up he just folds and starts treating you like royalty.

He can't make a lot of normal foods, he can make pizzas and maybe a decent sandwich, but besides that he's a bit useless, so he tends to buy you microwaved dinners. Unless you don't like them. And then he's just lost.

Mikey asks Donatello to help on the more science level, like no, chocolate will not help, that's a dumb myth, it will only make your sugar levels higher and increase pain, plus blood flow, and nobody wants that.

Cue Mikey closing the oven to hide his chocolate pizza he was making for you.

When buying or storing products, he tends to sort of forget how expensive they are, he'll go in with only a couple of dollars and fall to the floor in utter shock upon realising that is not nearly enough.

But he may or may not steal a few, he saves the city, he gets no money from it, this is completely justified in my opinion.

It's not like he tells anybody anyway.

April O'Neil

She understands so much, whatever you need she'll get for you within minutes.

If your cycles match up April and you will have days where you just sit down and cuddle together, usually at her apartment or in the lair.

She's most likely the one who goes shopping for stuff since she's usually shopping for the turtles as well, though you can come along or even do it yourself if hers is painful and yours is bearable enough to go and vice versa.

If you don't get much pain or mood swings, she makes a few jokes on how she wishes she was you, but if you ask her to stop she will.

Understands the pain that might come mentally, if yours is really bad during the month she even ignores the Turtles to help you out. Unless you want to be left alone in which case she can do that as well, but she will text you every few hours, this is probably happening with or without your period given how dangerous being friends with her is.

If you have intense pain, she's extremely worried for you and will try to help in any way she can, especially if you have other issues that impact your period and or your period causes you other issues.

Casey Jones

Once he gets it Casey doesn't care for the exact details, all he needs to know is when he needs to be involved. Then he's actually really helpful

Usually gets too embarrassed to buy pads for you so he asks April to do it for him, if she refuses he awkwardly makes his way over and will be red the entire time he buys them.

He will begrudgingly be mushy if it means you'll feel better, but also reluctantly leaves you alone if you prefer being alone, he's complicated when it comes to you.

Tends to try to make you laugh or smile if you get sad, but fails to realise that the flood gates of hell spill over with unholy blood whenever you do laugh too hard.

If you're someone with less blood and or pain he'll be asking once every few hours if you're okay, every month is the same, he never learns that you're going to be fine, or that you don't experience too much pain, but it shows he cares.

If you have intense pain he's next to you always helping and at your beck and call, he's fine with skipping out on time with April or the turtles because he doesn't want you in pain.

This has been in my drafts for a little over a year, I've only just got the strength to finish it (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)