#but him being unable to see things like his gayness as something that's against the said god's will

[neroushalvaus]

I'm a theologian, do you expect me to think about Thomas Barrow's relationship with God without thinking about the watchmaker analogy

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tftaws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Eleven (final chapter)

chapter ten - Chapter Eleven: Safe Haven

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n and Bucky enjoy their time off in Brooklyn and make decisions about their future.

Warnings: FLUFF, very little angst for once, talk of torture, reference to suicide, open ended plot twist that I'm not sorry for...all the fluff, seriously...

Word Count: 7.3k

A/N: Here we are...part of the journey is the end, and we've arrived. Even though there's another a/n at the bottom (with an important announcement so don't tap out too soon) I want to iterate just how thankful I am for the response I got on this series. I had the most amazing time writing it and loved getting to meet and connect with so many of you through it. ENJOY!!

----

It had taken all the strength Bucky had in his soul to knock three times on Yori’s door. He didn’t know what reserve he had had to tap into to actually make his long-hidden confession but once the words had fallen from his lips, he felt both freed and all the more burdened. Watching his friend’s eyes become overtaken by heartbreak, the desperate, confused utterance of ‘why…?’ By the end, Yori wouldn’t even look at Bucky. Bucky didn’t blame him, he was surprised that the man wasn’t yelling him out of his apartment. Instead, he calmly told Bucky to leave, surely holding back the majority of his emotions until he was by himself. The door shut on their friendship and Bucky was by himself on the other side of the door once again, drawing the shaky breath he’d held while he was inside Yori’s place. Out of every person he’d gone to see, every heart he’d had to crush, this one had hurt the most. In the dauntingly long hallway, his eyes sought out the gift the universe had given him, so undeservingly.

His guiding light.

Bathed in the blue light that flooded through the dirty windows of the aged building, Y/n stared down at her feet as she paced. For as open as they’d become with one another, Bucky found himself unable to ask her to accompany him to his last opportunity to make amends. The two of them had become so skilled at reading each other that with one look in his saddened eyes, Y/n had squeezed her phone into the pocket of her jeans and stood by the door waiting for him to ready himself. Bucky was starting to make peace with his past, but he still didn’t know what he had done in his wretched life to have such an angel in his life.

“Hey,” she greeted soothingly, turning to face Bucky as he approached her, “How’d it go?” Bucky wasn’t ready to speak yet, he wasn’t even sure how he could describe what had just transpired. He simply sighed and allowed Y/n to wrap him in her arms in the embrace that was quickly becoming his favorite place to be.

——

As I woke with a groan, stretching my arms over my head, I was immediately aware that one side of the bed was cold. I blindly reached a hand over and felt around for Bucky’s missing body, sitting up when my search was unsuccessful. I blearily scanned the bedroom, our suits laying in a pile that had been kicked to the corner of the desolately furnished room. The few articles of clothing I had gone to the nearest department store and purchased for my impromptu stay in New York still lay folded on top of Bucky’s dresser. It didn’t dawn on me until that moment that I was beginning to spread across Bucky’s apartment without even trying.

It had been four days since the Flag Smasher’s final stand and while the world may have been spinning, mine had never been more steady. Bucky and I hadn’t left his apartment for more than running necessary errands. Other than that we’d spent the time enjoying our slice of domestic heaven learning about one another. I had discovered that Bucky was a good cook but only when it came to breakfast food. He had found out that I needed to sleep with the windows opened slightly for background noise. I had learned that his Spotify consisted strictly of music from the ’40’s and nothing else, contrary to what he’d told Sam about diving into Marvin Gaye’s discography. He’d learned that I got cold easily which led to both me stealing his hoodies and being on the receiving end of many bear hugs. We could tell what the other would do in combat or how they’d handle a concerning matter, but it was finding out the little things about James Buchanan Barnes that made me fall a little bit harder for him with each revelation.

The unlocking and opening of the door followed by quiet footsteps alerted me to his presence. I heard a few muffled noises before the floorboards outside the bedroom creaked, the door opening directly after. Bucky was careful and nearly silent as he came into the room until he saw that my eyes were open. We shared a lazy smile as he approached the bed.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked.

I shook my head in reply, he came to kneel at my side of the bed and pulled the hand he’d hidden behind his back out revealing a bouquet of daisies. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any cuter,” I chuckled, reaching out to grab the bouquet, “I don’t think anyone’s ever bought me flowers.”

“That’s a crime,” Bucky said as he stood up, shedding his leather jacket as he walked around the bed, “In my time, you always brought a girl flowers on the first date. It was just what you did.”

“I guess we can consider my little extended stay a first date,” I dipped my nose down to smell the flowers, “Although I’m pretty sure in your time you wouldn’t allow a girl into your bed so soon.” Bucky snickered to himself, “A gentleman would never let a lady sleep on the floor. And selfishly,” he tugged his second layer, a grey long sleeved shirt off over his head, and looked down on me lovingly, “I sleep better with you here.”

It was true. He’d told me how he’d only used the bed once since he’d moved in, having slept on the floor instead. I was familiar with the phenomenon, Sam had gone through the same thing when he’d returned from the service. I’d told him that if he had a nightmare and needed to move out to his living room, I’d join him with no hesitations. Shockingly, it hadn’t happened yet and we’d slept in a peaceful tangle of limbs each night that I’d been with him.

Kicking off his boots, he slipped under the duvet and sat up against the headboard, looking over at me and patting his jean clad thigh. I set the flowers down and crawled over to him, sinking down onto his lap and sliding my hands around his neck.

“I like this,” he complimented me with a smirk, tugging at the material of his henley that I was wearing, “Looks better on you than it ever would on me.” “Clearly you’ve never seen you,” I scoffed, I’d also learned that the man had no idea just how attractive he was, “What were you off doing?” “Grocery store,” Bucky answered, gesturing to the sidelined bouquet, “Florist. Dr. Raynor’s office…” “Oh, I didn’t know you had a session this morning.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his hands firmly secured around my waist and his thumbs rubbing at my hips. “I didn’t,” he answered, “I, uh, I crossed off all the names in my book. Thought I’d drop by and let her know.” I gave a breathy laugh, “All of them?” He nodded, “All of them.” Surprised and proud, I placed my hands on his cheeks and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I never doubted you for a second” I said softly, our lips almost touching, “I’m proud of you.”

Bucky gave a small smile, not yet ready to take as much pride as I could in his recovery. I could tell that he was lighter, while his personality was silent and stoic there wasn’t as much sadness lurking beneath it. To those who knew him, the difference in his behavior was visible. The days that I’d been in New York were the happiest I’d seen Bucky since I’d known him.

“So…” I sighed, my hands sliding down to his shoulders, “No more therapy sessions, no more battles to be fought…What do we do now?”

The dreaded question that we’d been avoiding since we’d isolated ourselves from the outside world. There was no doubt as to whether or not I wanted to make it work between Bucky and I, but we hadn’t even discussed what “it” was. What should have unfolded over the course of a couple months had happened as a crash course over two weeks. I didn’t regret it, I just needed to know where Bucky’s head was at regarding our future. “Look,” Bucky averted his gaze downwards, “I’m not…I haven’t done this in a long time and I can’t promise that I’m gonna be good at it. I can’t even promise that I’ll know what I’m doing some of the time. But,” he shyly raised his eyes to meet mine, “I want this. I want you.”

His earnestness was so genuine, I thought my heart might burst from the emotion in his ocean blue eyes. “Bucky, I don’t want perfect,” I said, “And I’m pretty sure that a 106 year old with a robotic arm and a girl who can fly using blue energy from inside her wouldn’t even know what to do with perfect,” I earned a single laugh out of him, “Whatever we have right now, that’s what I want. I want to fight with you by my side and make a difference in the world, then I want to come home with you and teach you to cook something other than pancakes.”

He furrowed his brow, “What do you got against my pancakes?”

“My point is,” I giggled, my hands drifting back up to each side of his neck, “I want you exactly as you are. I haven’t done this in a long time either, I thought that after my dad died I was too broken to ever let myself be happy like this and you know that I’m coming in with more baggage than before. You’re not the only one who doesn’t know what they’re doing. But there’s nobody else I’d rather figure this out with than you.”

The long stare he gave me was reminiscent of the first moment we’d been alone together, standing before the 200 foot drop in Munich. It was the first moment I’d appreciated his beauty, maybe it was the first seed planted in what was now a full-blown relationship in the making. This time, instead of sassing me with those hardened, slightly amused eyes, he surged forward and kissed me, cradling the back of my head in his Vibranium palm. I returned the kiss with just as much fervor, gripping the tight blue t-shirt tightly in my fists. Unlike the kisses we’d shared at 1AM in the kitchen of my house, this one carried a different weight. It was a promise of a future. Movie nights introducing Bucky to the classics that he’d missed. Lazy mornings in bed turned passionate as our bodies surrendered to one another. Protecting each other on whatever battlefields we’d inevitably end up on. Frustrating fights over something we’d inevitably admit was stupid to argue over. Whispering soothing affirmations to help Bucky come down from a violent nightmare. I could taste it all, the good and the bad, in that one kiss and I wanted every bit of it.

“Two weeks…” I said after we’d parted, shaking my head in amazement and laughing, “That’s all it took.” “Crazier things have happened,” Bucky reassured me with a smile, running his hands up and down my back, “My folks always said they knew in a week and they were together for almost forty years.” I bushed my lips against his softly, basking in the euphoria of knowing that the two of us belonged wholly to one another. To think that I’d been willing to throw all of it away mere days ago, I was ready to deprive myself and Bucky of the love we’d craved all our lives. I thanked God that my resolve to stay away had weakened long enough to let Bucky in because now, wrapped in his strong arms with his lips begging for a deeper kiss, I knew that I had something truly spectacular in my hands.

“Well, since this is official,” Bucky said, a little breathless, “There’s something you should have.” He took his hands off of my body and reached behind his neck, pulling off one of his dog tags. Understanding what he was doing and the significance of it, I moved my head to allow him to place the necklace over it, the cold metal of the ball chain settling against my neck. The tag fell between my breasts, I picked it up and read Bucky’s name, his service number, the name of his sister, their address and his birth place. He’d given me, a part of his future, a piece of his history.

“Bucky…” I whispered, not trusting my voice enough to come out steady.

“A lot of soldiers gave one of them to their girls before they shipped out,” he recalled, watching me examine the piece of metal, “At least I know if I ever do ship out anywhere, you’ll be with me.” I bit my lip and smiled, looking up at him with misty eyes. When the first tear fell down my cheek, Bucky was quick to wipe it away and did so with a smile of his own. After all the pain we’d both suffered through in life, we were finally allowed tenderness. Our hearts were scarred, our bodies worn, but no amount of trauma could lay a hand on the way we felt about one another. There’d be many more fights, some with forces bigger than the ones we’d spent the last two weeks taking a stand against. But at the end of the day, I had Bucky, my safe haven to come back to.

“It’s getting late,” I observed after a few minutes of sweet silence, the morning hours were slipping away from us, “Are you hungry? I can make us something.” “Yeah, but,” Bucky’s hands found my arms and he rubbed his palms against them, “Let’s stay here just a little while longer…”

A grin spread across my face, one that I was finding only Bucky could bring out in me. “Okay,” I replied, settling my face in the crook of his neck and resting against his chest, the only place I wanted to be.

——

A FEW DAYS LATER

“You ready, Barnes?” “I’m ready.” “This is the most dangerous mission we’re ever going to face.” “I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle it.” “Then why are you sweating?” “I’m not…sweating.” “Well, at least I know you’ll never lie to me. You suck at it,” I smirked just before smoothing out the shoulders of his jacket, “Follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”

Bucky blew out a breath, his cheeks loosing their puff as he exhaled, “Here goes nothing…” I gave three sharp knocks on the door before entering, seeing the familiar face waiting in a chair by the window. “Hey, Mama…” My mother smiled deeply at the sight of her daughter, alive before her. “Baby,” she whispered as she slowly rose to embrace me, “Oh, you’re here.” “I’m here,” I smiled, trying to fight the tears threatening to fill my eyes. My mother had been my first call after the battle in New York, realizing that my face was flashing across every news channel in the country alongside Sam and Bucky. This was the first time I’d seen her since before I’d left Louisiana with Sam.

“And you brought someone?” she asked over my shoulder, pulling away to wipe her cheeks.

“I did,” I turned around and looped my arm through Bucky’s, who was looking vaguely nauseous, “Mom, this is James.”

Bucky stuck out his gloved hand towards my mother, “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Y/l/n.”

“Wonderful to meet you too, James,” she responded, shaking his hand and looking over to me, “I’ve been waiting a long time for Y/n to bring somebody home.” I forced a chuckle, “Thanks, Mom…” “Well, I’m honored that I’m the one she chose,” Bucky beamed, his bright eyes seeking mine out.

“Well, sit down,” my mom gestured to the two free chairs in the room, “I want to hear all about how you two met.”

Bucky and I exchanged a nervous look as we pulled up our seats to join her by the window. How were you supposed to explain that you’d fallen for a 106 year old who just happened to have once been the world’s deadliest assassin? “Um…James is one of Sam’s friends from the military. He came with us to Munich and things just sort of,” I slipped my hand into one of Bucky’s that sat in his lap, “Happened from there.” “We didn’t like each other much at first, but,” Bucky chimed in, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand, “She definitely snuck up on me.”

“Oh my,” she looked at me amusedly, “How’s Sam taking this? Has he threatened you yet, Bucky?” “Yeah, I, uh, got a text from him the other day, and it read something like ‘I’ve got access to government weapons, don’t make me use them.’”

I covered my mouth and snorted as my mother got a good laugh herself, “You didn’t tell me that.” Bucky shook his head, a small smile on his lips, Sam and him had been getting along swimmingly since his last visit to Louisiana. But no friendship could eclipse Sam’s overprotective nature when it came to his family, it was only a matter of time until Bucky was on the receiving end of its ugly side.

“Truth is,” Bucky turned his gaze to my mother while keeping a soft grip on my hand, I could feel his nerves radiating through his touch, “I’m crazy about your daughter, ma’am, I think she’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

Mom sighed, an ear-to-ear grin painted across her face. It was the same one I’d seen when my sister had first brought her now husband home to meet us. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear that, James,” she replied, “I’m looking forward to getting to know you more.” “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” I questioned, “It’s been so long since the whole family was together.” “I wish, but I’m a little too tired to make the trip there,” Mom answered, settling into her seat a little more, “You don’t need an old lady there slowing you down.” “That’s ridiculous,” I gently pushed back, “But since Sam and I are back home for a while, we’ll make sure to bring everybody up one of the weekends.” “I’d like that,” she smiled. A phone buzzing interrupted the conversation, Bucky let go of my hand to reach into his jacket pocket. “It’s Sam, probably wants an ETA,” he announced, rising from his seat and looking between both me and my mother, “Sorry.”

Both of us shooed him out of the room to take the call, turning back to one another once he was gone with shining smiles. “Honey…” “I know…” I tried to hold back a giddy laugh threatening to erupt.

“He seems wonderful…” I shook my head, semi in disbelief that things had turned out the way they had. “You don’t even know the half of it, he’s just…I’m crazy about him.” “That much is obvious,” Mom gestured to my face, “You haven’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door. I’ve never seen you this happy. Just one thing…” I furrowed my brows as her smile turned to a knowing smirk, “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know who he is?” I sighed, leaning forward in my seat and propping my elbows on my knees. “We weren't trying to hide it, he just doesn’t like to advertise it. Once people know, they usually can’t look past what he was. But, Mom, we’ve been glued at the hip for the last two weeks and I can promise you, what you’re seeing is what you’re getting. I wouldn’t be with him if I thought there was any chance he could hurt me. He saved my life and so many others last week...” “Sweetie, you don’t have to try and sell me on him,” Mom said soothingly, reaching out to touch my knee, “I trust your judgement and I also know what happened to him, it was tragic. The fact that he has a second chance at his life makes me happy, especially since it’s with you. Watching the two of you, how at ease he is with you…And those eyes,” she stopped to chuckle, “The way he looks at you is something special, it’s something magical. The two of you fit.”

Eventually I would tell her the whole story of how Bucky and I came to be, but it was better saved for another day. If she only knew how challenging it had been to get to something so simple and how Bucky and I valued each other all the more for it. “He fought for me, Mama,” I said with tears brimming, letting out a laugh, “Literally and metaphorically. And I just couldn’t let him go, he’s everything I’ve wanted but what I thought I could never have.” Mom placed a hand on my cheek, “You deserve him, my love. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve happiness.” And for the first time, I believed her. I believed that through my suffering, I had played a small part in helping Bucky through his. We deserved something more than what had happened to us and we had found it in one another.

“Your father would be proud of you,” Mom said, her face flashing with a different emotion than joy for a brief second. “I’m not sure about that…” I mumbled, dodging her eyes in favor of staring down at my hands, a different reaction than I’d ever had when talking about my father.

“Sweetie,” she coaxed me, tapping at my hands until I looked back up at her, “Do you…do you know something?” My heartbeat started to quicken as I struggled to contain the information I was withholding from my mother. It was taking everything I had not to tell her that her husband had been a part of one of the cruelest organizations the world had ever seen. The pain must have reflected in my expression. “Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lip and closing her eyes, “You know…” “Mom?”

She sighed, sitting back in her chair and supporting her head in her hand. “I didn’t know anything about that part of your father’s life when I married him, he didn’t like to talk about his time in the ‘service’ and I never pushed it…It wasn’t until the night that he died, before he left the house, that he sat me down and confessed it all.” “He…” I moved to the edge of my seat, “He told you?” “Mmhmm,” she nodded, a distant look in her eyes like she was transported back in time to that very moment, “I didn’t know how to process any of it, how could I? This man who I’d shared my life with and he’d made his living off of inflicting pain on innocent people. Hours later, he was gone and any chance to delve deeper into it was gone too. It’s taken me a long time to come to terms with everything, but I made it. You’re free to draw your own conclusions, Y/n, I’m not telling you how to feel. All I’ll say is this,” Mom drew a breath before continuing, “Your father’s guilt over what he did, to Bucky specifically, overwhelmed him. He told me how HYDRA manipulated him, a young and ambitious man, into coming to work for them, lying and telling him they were creating a better world with their work. He thought he was fighting for what was right…I’m not making excuses for him, believe me, I’m simply telling you what he told me. Do you remember when he’d wake up from a nightmare?” I nodded grimly, the shrieks of my father’s always strained vocal cords still haunted me decades later. “Do you remember what he used to cry when he woke up?” Mom asked.

I silently shook my head in reply, when I’d be awoken by my fathers blood curdling screams as a child, I’d always bury my head under my pillow in an effort to block it out, shedding tears at knowing I couldn’t help him. “Soldat…”

My head perked up, the word was familiar to me after hearing Zemo call Bucky the same thing when we were undercover in Madripoor. “Of course by the time that your James was free, your father had been dead for over a decade but,” Mom paused, looking out the window as memories hit her, “Your father’s guilt over what he did ate away at him every day. As far as you went, he told me that the reason he wanted to keep your powers hidden was because he was afraid HYDRA would come for you. It’s the reason I moved us to Delacroix after he died, I didn’t want to take the chance of somebody finding you. Dad didn’t want them to make you a weapon the same way they made one of James. But honey,” she took my hand, “He believed you could do great things, truly. One of the last things he said to me was that our family was the one good thing he’d done in life.”

Everything that I’d thought and everything I’d never thought had been revealed to me. My father’s crimes could never be erased, but some part of me felt satisfied knowing that he knew what he did was wrong. He’d been haunted day and night by Bucky, the man who I was completely head over heels for. In some way, it felt poetic that Bucky and I had ended up together. I couldn’t magically heal his trauma, but for every bit of torture my dad and countless others inflicted upon him, I was now there to shower him in the love and safety he deserved.

“Have you…forgiven him for what he did?” I hesitantly asked.

“You know, after all these years, I’m still not sure what forgiveness looks like in a situation like this,” she admitted with a small shrug, “We weren’t affected, yet his past put us in danger, especially you. And now, seeing the man that he was paid to hurt and how much joy he brings you, it’s bringing up a lot of emotions I thought I’d buried. I know he regretted what he’d done with his whole being and I believe that, but I still question why he didn’t leave sooner. I wish I could give you a better answer but-“ “Mama,” I squeezed her hand and pushed back my tears to help her, “I’ve had this information for a week and I’m still spinning, I can’t imagine what it’s like to sit on it silently for this long. I was hellbent on keeping this from you but I’m actually relieved that I don’t have to hide it…” I took a trembling breath, “Dad did a lot of things wrong in his life, but I have a chance to do a lot of good. I’ve talked to Sam and I’m going to keep working with him, I’m done living with my hands tucked under my legs. I want to make the difference in the world that Dad thought he was making.” “I think you’re off to a pretty good start,” my mother replied, “I was terrified watching you fly around New York, but I’d also never been prouder of you.” A knock on the door followed by Bucky sticking his head through it broke us from the topic. “Am I interrupting?” he asked, his eyes widened slightly as he worried. “Not at all,” my mom said cheerily as she slowly rose from her seat, “I don’t want to keep you two any longer when you’ve got somewhere to be.”

I tightly embraced her and placed a kiss on her cheek, “Love you,” I whispered.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” she replied, gesturing afterwards to Bucky who made his way over to her and allowed himself to be hugged by her, “Take care of my girl, James.” “I will,” Bucky promised, pulling back to give a nod full of conviction.

Once the two of us had shut my mom’s door and were back out in the hallway of the nursing home, Bucky noticed the slight puffiness of my eyes. “Happy tears or sad tears?” he asked as we walked down the hall.

“‘I don’t know’ tears,” I replied with a small smile, weaving my fingers between his gloved metal ones. “But well done, Sergeant. I’d consider that a successful mission,” I finished, receiving the laugh I loved so much and a kiss to the side of my head. I pressed my lips to the place on his shoulder where I knew underneath his layers Vibranium met his skin, one of his favorite places to be kissed. My phone went off then, alerting me to a text, I pulled it out of the pocket. “Bucky…” I muttered, stopping in the middle of the hall. “What is it?” he asked as he stepped back to join me, I held my phone out for both of us to read the ominous words displayed.

The world’s seen what you can do, come to Madripoor when you decide to use those hands for something worthwhile.

- The Power Broker

“How did they get my number?” I asked in surprise, letting Bucky take my phone to examine it closer as if he could find something I couldn’t. “I don’t know,” he answered, handing the device back to me, “But we’re changing it immediately, you need to show this to Sam soon as we get to the house.” “They’re not actually threatening me, seems more like a job offer than anything else that’s only going to be declined. Plus, they’re all the way in Madripoor,” I stuck the phone back in my pocket, “I’m not going to let this ruin our day.” Bucky frowned down at me as I took his arm once again, “You’re a little too relaxed about this.” “I’m a mutant who can make things move with her mind with Captain America for a brother and a Super Soldier for a boyfriend, I’d love to see the Power Broker try to mess with that.”

——

The dock was exactly how I loved to see it, packed and filled with joy.

Sam and Sarah had invited the whole town to the celebratory cookout, people of all ages flooding our corner of the bayou as Bucky and I pulled up. Sam had loaned us his truck for the duration of our stay and I was having the time of my life showing Bucky around Louisiana and there was nothing more Louisiana than a cookout with the entire community.

Bucky parked near the end of the dock and hopped out, carrying the ice cream cake that we’d picked up on our way. He crossed around the front of the truck to open the door for me, taking one of my hands and helping me hop out of the passenger side. After a dozen more reassurances during the drive that the text I’d received wasn’t worth freaking out about, he’d begun to relax. For once, he wasn’t trying to hide his emotions. I could see it plain as day on his face, he was genuinely excited to be back in Delacroix and even more excited when the familiar sounds of AJ and Cass hit our ears.

“Oh! There he is!” Bucky greeted as the boys ran up to us and began throwing fake punches at my boyfriend who willingly played along, dramatically dodging their imaginary hits. He raised up the hand that held the cake over Cass’ head and yelled to which I quickly threw an energy shield underneath his arm to protect the overly expensive dessert.

“Aunt Y/n! Can you make us fly?” AJ came up to my side and begged.

Cass backed his brother up, “Yeah, can we? Please?” “No,” I replied, retaking Bucky’s hand and letting him lead us through the crowd, “But you can follow us with your two perfectly functional legs.” My nephews both groaned and laughed as they fell in step behind Bucky and I. “Where is everybody?” he asked as he set the cake down on one of the picnic tables set out and removed his sunglasses.

“Uncle Sam’s taking pictures with people, Mom’s cooking and Aunt Mel’s at one of the tables,” Cass answered, his face lighting up as he got a good luck at the dessert.

“After dinner,” I said, quickly having switched back into aunt mode, “Now lead the way.”

I extended my hand toward the boys and raised them up a few inches above the ground, receiving laughter and praises in return as I moved them ahead of us and through the crowd. Along the way people kept patting me on the back or sneaking in quick hugs, they shook Bucky’s hand and thanked us both for what we’d done in New York. The only thing that confused me was how people weren’t calling me by name. By the time we made it to Sarah, I had questions.

“There they are, America’s Power Couple,” she announced, coming out from behind the booth where she’d been chopping to hug us both. I pulled back to lower the boys back to the ground, “Do you know why people I’ve known almost all my life are suddenly calling me ‘Sapphire?’”

“Did you not check the internet at all when you were in Brooklyn?” she raised an eyebrow before pulling out her phone from her back pocket and pulling up Instagram, “Ever since the night of the fight, people have been referring to you as Sapphire. People are posting pictures of you, trying to get interviews with you, kids are even dressing up like you!” “Oh my gosh,” I mumbled as I scrolled through the hashtag containing the name, seeing all the proof of Sarah’s words before my eyes. Dozens and dozens of various types of photos displayed my signature shade of blue, “Bucky, look!” He took the phone out of my hand, a smile spreading across his face soon after. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly, handing the phone back to Sarah.

“You wanted the superhero life, you got it,” my sister laughed before returning to what she was doing, “Sam’s doing pictures and there’s already been people asking if you were gonna be here so I imagine they’re gonna want some with you.”

Bucky grabbed my hand and led me around to where a line had formed, spotting Sam as the destination. As soon as he caught a glimpse of us, he held up a finger to the crowd and broke away from them. The three of us exchanged hugs, me internally laughing to myself at the fact that two weeks after saying they never wanted to see one another again, they were now brothers in arms. Sam took my hand and tugged me towards where everyone was gathered, “Lotta people have been waiting for you, Sapphire,” he smirked.

As the day went on, the three of us did meet and greets with nearly everybody. At one point I found Bucky casually talking to Sarah with AJ, Cass and other neighborhood kids hanging off his vibranium arm. People had gathered around me as well asking to levitate them, something that provided entertainment for everyone. We ate, we laughed, at one point I caught Sam and Bucky watching the sun set over the Louisiana waters. I couldn’t resist the temptation to sneak in between the two and was received with an arm around each of my sides. We’d fought a shared battle along with our own separate three and now that they’d all been put to rest, we could take a minute to enjoy the freedom we’d worked so hard for. The future was unknown, but I knew that if we’d made it through the mess of a week we’d had together, there wasn’t a whole lot that we couldn’t make it through.

——

When the sky darkened, the dock lights went on and the party kept going. Someone had brought out a Bluetooth speaker and there was now a section of the dock that acted as a makeshift dance floor. I was seated at a table with Melanie watching the show, baby Alexandria fast asleep in her arms. “So…Bucky,” my sister said teasingly teased.

I let out a loud sigh, “Bucky.” “He’s perfect for you,” she smiled, “I’m glad you brought him home.” “Me too,” I scanned the dock until I spotted my boyfriend, engrossed in a conversation with Sam, “He fits right into the family.” “I’ll say, the kids love him. Max and Sophia have been following him around all day, I’ve never been able to get the baby to sleep as fast as when he held her…” I chuckled, “Yeah, just when I thought he couldn’t get any more attractive, you stuck a baby in his arms.” Mel snickered at my reaction, “Yeah, pretty sure every woman on the dock snapped a picture of that.” The two of us burst into laughter before hushing ourselves as to not wake the sleeping infant. “Hey, Sapphire,” she nudged my shin with her foot, “I’m proud of you.” “Well, that’s a far cry from how you felt last week,” I commented, remembering the fear in my sister’s voice from our phone calls in Riga.

“I’m always going to worry about you, but once I actually saw you do your thing,” she breathed, “I was just in awe of how you would risk your life to save all those people. It would be a waste to not put your gift to good use.” I leaned my head against hers and brushed a finger over Alexandria’s thinly haired head, appreciating the sweetness of the moment. Once a slow song came on the speakers, I watched as Bucky stepped away from Sam and made his way over to our table. “Can I steal your sister away for a dance?” he asked Mel. “Steal? You can keep her,” I shot my sister a faux smile while she watched on with a grin as I took Bucky’s outstretched hand and let him lead me away. “Gonna show me some more Madripoor moves?” I jested as we walked across the dock. “That was not dancing, although I did enjoy it,” Bucky replied, giving me a wink that could have melted me into a puddle, “I’ll show you what real dancing is.” I recognized the song as a version of ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ and realized Bucky waited until now to show off any moves in his arsenal because it was probably the first song he recognized on the playlist. He encircled my waist with his flesh arm and took my hand in his Vibranium one, pulling me so close that there wasn’t any space left between us. He began to sway us slowly to the beat of the song. I rested my cheek against his, breathing in the scent of him mixed with the bayou evening air. As far as I was concerned, dancing in the arms of the man I was somehow lucky enough to call my own in the place I loved most in the world was the perfect end to a perfect day.

“Alright, I give…” I relented softly, close enough to his ear that I barley had to speak louder than a whisper for him to hear me, “Your version of dancing is better.” He gave a gentle laugh, the sweetest sound, and rubbed at my waist, “It’s more about the partner than it is the actual dance, think I’ve got the best one.”

“You certainly know how to make a girl blush, Sergeant Barnes,” I replied just before he spun me out of his arms and back into his body, “When’s your flight back to Brooklyn?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, “Already tired of me?”

“Never,” I shook my head with a genuine smile, “Just trying to soak in all the time I can with you before you go back.” “About that…” he trailed off, turning his gaze to the various other couples dancing around us, “I was thinking of maybe extending my stay. I mean the scenery’s nice, good food,” he looked back to me, “Decent people.” The grin that I was fighting was starting to make itself very apparent, “What are you saying?” “Well,” Bucky shrugged and looked away again, “I mean, I’d need to find a place, hopefully nothing too expensive or else I’d have to find a roommate and even then, it’d be hard to find someone I like enough to live with…”

“Bucky…” I’d ceased our movements to show just how serious I was, searching his face to try and tell if he was joking or not. “What do you say, doll? You think you can put up with me a little while longer?” he asked with a smirk. I exhaled happily and pulled him down to my lips, kissing him with all the excitement that filled my veins at the prospect of him staying. When we finally pulled away, I cradled his cheek in my hand. “I will put up with you for as long as you want,” I beamed, pecking his lips once more. “I’m glad,” Bucky kissed my temple, “It was either telling you this or the other thing…” “What’s the other thing?” I asked, thinning my eyes at him in expectancy of another surprise.

Bucky drew a breath, taking a few seconds to steady himself for whatever he was planning to say. “Well, I was going to tell you that I love you but,” he clicked his teeth, “Now that I think about it, it’s probably better saved for another time,” The earth ceased to move and spin at a dizzying pace all at once, his blue eyes never more truthful than they were in that moment. “I think you’re right,” I said over the lump in my throat, holding back the tears that had come all to quickly, “Best to save that for another day, wouldn’t want to make a hasty declaration or anything...” “That’s what I was thinking,” Bucky replied plainly, continuing our charade. I gave him a watery smile, bringing one of my hands up to run through the hairs at the base of his neck. “I love you too,” I whispered.

Both of Bucky’s arms wrapped around my waist, clutching me as tight as he could without actually injuring me as our lips met. I encircled his neck and relaxed into him completely, feeing aglow with the love that I could finally admit to feeling. Both of us smiled into the kiss, feeding off of the mutual joy of what was unfolding before us. Was it crazy to commit in the ways I was committing to a man I’d known for only two weeks? To some, yes. But ‘some’ hadn’t formed the bond that Bucky and I had over the short span of time it had taken for me to fall in love with him. We had seen the best and the worst of each other, rising and falling with one another’s waves and learning what made the other tick. I wanted every part of him, the good, the bad, the traumatic and the pure. The quick decisions that would raise eyebrows made sense to us, and that was more than enough reason for me to see each one through.

“Thanks for not giving up on me,” Bucky said softly after we’d parted, pulling back to admire me. “Thanks for not letting me give you up,” I returned, staring up into the eyes that had first captured me. The eyes that I’d get to stare into each and every day.

Since the night we’d connected on the jet ride to Berlin, there was some way Bucky had made me feel that I couldn’t put a name to. Something I couldn’t understand at the time but I was fully aware of now. Bucky felt like home. And with our bright future ahead of us, wrapped in his arms dancing underneath the Louisiana stars, I’d never felt more at home.

----

A/N: I'm not crying, you're crying. GUYS. IT'S OVER. WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY TIME NOW? I want to thank every single person who liked, commented, reblogged, sent messages and asks and supported this silly little fic I thought up one day after watching TFATWS. As someone who is super insecure about their writing, seeing it well received was a boost to my confidence to keep running with this. I've loved getting to write this and give it to you all and can't wait to write more for you. I'm adding my new taglist link for anyone who would like to be added, it's separated by the characters I write for and you can choose which ones you'd like to follow. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES AGAIN. I LOVE YOU ALL 3000!!

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlyhufflepuff @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @i-know-i-can @x-judyjude-x @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla @buckverse @living-that-best-life @haphazardhufflepuff @citlalireedus @lindseyrae20 @missstef23 @qhbr2013 @sebby-stann @bluemoon-icecream @iixbella @lets-love-little-me @abitofeverythinggg @itsnottilly @sltwins @mads-weasley @hart-failure @natdrunk @nctma15 @obsessedwithjustaboutanything @patdsinner33 @rosebucketbarnes @tylard-blog1

[thedreadvampy]

ok so this trip down memory lane kind of leads neatly into what I was wanting to talk about last night (even though it’s past 4am again oops)

which is the gendered nature of queerbaiting and of bi/homophobia

like last night @silly-slacker-person and I were talking about Glee and about how like...the Brittana relationship started with the improvised line “if having sex was dating, Santana and I would be dating” and how that fits into a Pattern

where queerbaiting with male characters is about emotional intimacy but They Can Never Kiss Or Touch Sexually, queerbaiting with female characters is...weird.

queerbaiting with female characters is often almost the inverse of queerbaiting with male characters. female characters will kiss on screen, touch constantly, and even actually have sex with each other, but the story will still regularly insist they’re straight. and romance is off-limits. emotional intimacy is withheld. it’s always waved away with being a performance, or an experiment, or a thing they’re doing because they’re horny and don’t have a boyfriend. 

and think about how often queerbaiting with women involves maneuvering them into a situation where they kiss onscreen but in a purely performative way (the example that springs inevitably to mind is Veronica and Betty in Riverdale - images of them kissing were all over the marketing for the show, and in reality they kissed as part of a choreographed performance in-story - I can also think of several examples where it’s as part of a game, a dare or because their boyfriends tell them to/to titillate their boyfriends) or like...it’s not technically Queerbaiting but how often women specifically are made bisexual but only in a teehee coy ‘it’s sexy when girls kiss’ way.

whereas queerbaiting with men is an “I love you...bro” or a quiet moment or a point of emotional intimacy and them touching remotely sexually/romantically is seen as the Proof Of Queerness, which writers will often shy away from committing to

it only tends to become A Canon Queer Thing when men express physical/sexual intimacy (kissing or sex)

it only tends to become A Canon Queer Thing when women express emotional/romantic intimacy (dating, “I love you”s, or monogamy)

and I feel...Some Kind Of Way about this and how it slots into the experience of exploring your own wlw identity. how women are still assumed to be and treated as straight even if they’re regularly seeking/having sex with other women unless they a) reject men utterly or b) enter a monogamous relationship.

and it feeds into something I’ve thought about a lot over the years which is how thoroughly gendered the experience of bi/homophobia is (not in terms of how you identify but in terms of how the -phobe is reading you)

like ultimately it comes down to the idea that men define sexuality

all sexual contact with women is overridden/negated by sexual contact with men. women aren’t given the same power to define sexuality as men.

which means that if you are a man who kisses/sleeps with men even once, you are gay

if you are a woman, kissing/sleeping with a man even once will make you straight

so sexual contact between women isn’t threatening the way sexual contact between men is. however gay a woman gets you can always walk it back in the eyes of heteronormativity. but if a man Goes Gay even a little bit that’s his identity set in stone however many women he goes on to sleep with/date.

and ultimately not to be crass it’s about The World Revolving Around Men’s Dicks. literally. so much of the gendered construction of homo/biphobia is about a patriarchal society unable to comprehend the concept that you could sleep with a man and be unchanged by it. sex and sexuality has been framed so universally for so long in so many cultures as a matter of male power and that is so definitional to homo/biphobia and to mainstream ideas about sexuality.

and that means that homophobia and biphobia are very shaped by your perceived gender in relation to your attraction

gay men are threatening because male sexuality is seen as such a powerful, shaping force, that the mere presence of gay men could be enough to shape the sexuality of men around them. this horror of Being Turned Gay this utter distress at the fragility of heterosexuality is so foundational to the way homophobia is upheld and expressed. it’s vital to heteronormative masculinity to distance yourself from gayness by any means necessary, to violently reject gayness, because even slight contact with male sexual or romantic intimacy has the power to redefine you.

whereas a lot of lesbophobia rests on the idea that it’s a deliberate rejection of men, and a temporary one - you’ll find the right man. sex with a man has the power to change you. and because of that relationships between women aren’t seen as meaningful in their own right. like a lot of cultures prohibiting sex between men treat sex between women as a natural, expected adolescent experiment, or as irrelevant as long as you also fuck your husband. it isn’t threatening to heteronormativity to kiss, fuck or love women, until you say this is real and it matters. Then it’s threatening because you’re being mean. You’re saying the Not Serious Not Definitional relationship of women loving women is powerful, more powerful than the Defining Power of Man Dick, and that’s aberrant, and it’s also kind of seen as...childish? silly? like you just Don’t Understand that women loving women isn’t Real Attraction. you can’t define yourself through sex with women! they’re not men! women are defined by, they don’t define!

and as a bi woman who largely dates bi men, I’m particularly interested in the gendered nature of biphobia

bi men are assumed to be “really” gay and in the closet

bi women are assumed to be “really” straight and performing attraction to women for male attraction

and that brings us full-circle to glee

see Ty and I were talking about the two really offensive stories in glee which affected us as bi teenagers

he was talking about the story where Blaine says “I think I might be bi” and Kurt tells him “bi guys don’t exist, bisexual is just a label for closeted gay high schoolers”

I was talking about the story of Finn outing Santana, which is a CLUSTERFUCK. but aside from the outing, thinking about how everyone canonically knew that she was sleeping with Brittany but she was only put in danger when it was named as a queer love. like that she was still understood as entirely straight and Doing It For Attention even when holding hands, kissing and fucking another woman, as long as she didn’t call it love or a relationship.

and I’ve talked to a lot of other bi people about the experience of being a bi teenager and almost everyone who was read as a woman as a teenager speaks to doubting the veracity of their attraction to women, to being treated as an attention-seeker looking for male attention or someone going through an experimental phase. and I think that’s usually how we talk about biphobia. as being assumed “a straight person looking for attention”. but the experience of a lot of people of narratives about bi men are a bit different and so the experience of bi teenage boys is really different. for girls/”girls”, queerness is something that has to be constantly asserted and proved. for boys/”boys”, it’s straightness that has to be proved. even if you mostly date girls, if you ever like. kissed a boy at a party or expressed attraction to another guy then people assumed you were gay and your attraction to women was fake.

and the throughline isn’t comphet it’s. I guess...comp-liking-men. it’s the assumption that attraction to women is a shadow of attraction to men. it can’t possibly compete.

I have often expressed, often to girlfriends I just had sex with, my fear that I’m appropriating queerness by laying any claim to it. like they look at me like I’m an idiot but later they’ll tell me the same thing. and that’s a fragility that assumed-male queerness just doesn’t have. male heterosexuality is so fragile that anything straying even slightly away from it is seen as Deeply, Threateningly Queer. female heterosexuality is so default that queerness has to CONSTANTLY fight for any space against it - even glancing in the direction of heterosexuality is enough to negate queerness. if you sleep with a man, if you even express the opinion that a man is good-looking, you’re Straight Now. they’re mirror images of each other and ultimately yeah it really comes down to the expectation of male power 

and also kind of...the irrelevance of women’s feelings in sexuality? the construction of all sexuality (including heterosexuality) as Male Desire and Female Acquiescence - historically society tends to not give a shit what women want, feel or love as long as they have sex with their husbands and don’t run the risk of having another man’s babies. it honestly like, not to get all Straw Feminist on this but it comes down to the subjugation and dehumanisation of women. a woman in patriarchy is an object owned and used to serve a function and a relationship that doesn’t threaten the ownership or affect the function (you’re still having sex with him and he still knows your child is his) isn’t a threat. women aren’t owners, they’re owned. if you say ‘actually I belong to this other woman and not to you’ it becomes a threat. if you start refusing to be a wife or a sexual partner or a mother it becomes a threat. but “passionate friendships” and schoolgirl experimentation weren’t just tolerated but sometimes actively encouraged as long as you still fulfilled your function as a wife fully. like you can fuck other girls before you get married - that’ll help you learn to Do Sex without having you Tainted By Another Man. you can keep a live-in mistress as long as you understand that your husband will always take precedence - that way you can have those pesky emotional needs met but you won’t cheat on him with a man and cuckold him. it’s only when you say This Is Queer And This Matters And We Matter that it becomes a threat. when she starts mattering as much as him. when you don’t marry men but devote yourself to women. now you’re Failing In Your Function. obviously this isn’t how it’s framed now but like. these ideas seem to me to have a direct throughline to the ways queer women are recieved now - as either Basically Straight or as Aggressive Rejectors Of The Normal.

idk it’s 5:30 am now I should sleep. but. this is such a rich topic I could talk about it forever. 

[spacehologramcollection]

NSFW Alphabet with Hanzo Hasashi/ Scorpion.

Continuing with the theme of disappointment and smut. Here’s the NSFW Alphabet for Hanzo/Scorpion. I’ve wrote this from Hanzo’s perspective more so. Also, I’m more of a Sub fan than a Scorpion so... this may be top tier trash, but not in a great way. SO sorry... 

Warnings; Sex, NSFW, Smut, more smut, language, did I mention smut? Angst a little. 18+ 18+ under the cut.  Gif not mine. 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Hanzo is very caring and soft when it comes to you. You are precious to him, soft and gentle. He’ll treat you like royalty afterwards. He cannot stand to leave you a mess, it’s just not right. He’s the opposite of how he is with the majority of people. Cold, hard and stoic. He melts when he’s with you. B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) He loves his back. He loves to feel your fingers drag down it whilst he’s fucking you. He also loves how you grip at it, panting and begging for more. He’s not a vain man, its not that he’s proud of his back, but its more the feeling he gets from it. His favourite part on you would be your eyes. He loves looking into them, both during a sexual situation and a non-sexual situation. He feels at ease, and he can gage your emotion and reaction through them. They calm him and excite him at the same time. But he’s also into your hips, he loves how they mould to his hands, how they fit into his open hands. The feel of the dips against his fingers. How they meet his thrusts. Everything is perfect. C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) He’s not into making a massive mess. He’d prefer to cum in you rather than on you. If you’re not down for that, he’d be fine pulling out or using protection. But cumming in you would be his preference. He’s not sexually explorative, so he’s never really experimented in terms of where to cum. D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Has always dreamed of fucking you after training. Like him pinning you down and fucking you right there and then. It all links in with what motivates him and gets him excited. But, he’d love the idea of it. E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Not at all. He’s had one previous partner and that was his old wife. Even then it wasn’t massively explorative. Receptive to learning, though it will take him some time. You’ll have to convince him and almost boost his confidence. He’s confident in a lot of other aspects but this throws him. You gotta show him the ropes and improve it. F = Favourite Position (We are in Puritan times once more, visuals are banned, but written descriptions are fiiine) At first missionary, just because it was the only position he’d ever really done. He knows it and feels like it’s great. After exploring and experimenting, it’s a tossup between either doggy or you on top. Anything that gives him access to your hips. He’s more into you on top, just because he gets the eye contact and the feel of your hips. He’s a sucker for watching you bounce on his cock. He’s still in charge though. Don’t get me wrong, he’s more dominant than submissive and that doesn’t change when you’re on top. G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) Could you imagine a moment where he was goofy? Nah me neither. He’s been through a lot, it has left him bitter and shattered. So, he’s extremely serious. Just like he is in real life. Sex isn’t something that he takes lightly. It’s more a connection than pleasure. The pleasure is just an added bonus. He’s shitty with his emotions and language; so, sex is an easy way for him to connect with you. H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) It’s trimmed but not overly. He doesn’t care? Why would he care. If it bothers, you he will take into consideration and will trim a little more. But he has no time for this tomfuckery. It’s not gross but not neat. More tamed. I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)  Sex is very intimate for him. It’s a sacred act he holds highly. He doesn’t casually fuck and doesn’t sleep around. Also, he may struggle with the whole saying ‘I love you’ If he thinks too much, he starts to feel guilty about moving on. But during sex, he’s so focused on you. Your eyes, your lips pursed in pleasure, back arched in pleasure and moans echoing the room. He focuses on you and it becomes easier. After he can open up a bit more and feel more relaxed and calmer. Eventually, he’ll be able to open up before, after and during sex. But he’s still intimate and romantic. However, don’t expect rose petals on the bed, someone playing the harp and some Marvin Gaye on. It’s not happening. Romantic in his own way. J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) Sexual desire is a distraction. One that could end up with him being injured, maimed or killed. So, he’s learnt to deal with it. He’ll do it if he has to. He’d rather release the pent-up sexual frustration than be injured through it. It’s more a chore than anything. His hands feel a lot different after he’s had you. Like there nothing in comparison to yours or your body in general. K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) Hair Pulling. He’s fine with pulling yours if you want him to. But he’s more into you, pulling his hair. He loves it. It can send him into a sensual override easily. He’s also into light bondage, like tying you up, only if you’re down for it though. This is something that would come from sexual exploration. L = Location (Favourite places to do the do) He’s a bit reserved but a bit more up for experimentation. He’d be down for some outdoor fucking. As long as he was sure nobody would catch you. Even if they did, who the fuck is going to say shit about it? Maybe Johnny? But who doesn’t he try and fuck with. He’d be more into bedroom sex, just because it’s comfier and more intimate. Would happily fuck you in the shower though. Wall sex is just terrific for him. You can claw his back, he can burrow his head into the crook of your neck and he can grab your arse. AND nobody is going to accidentally walk in on you both. Could you imagine, you hear the noises and just walk the other way. M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) So, he gets off on your defiance. He’s never going to admit this. But he likes to see you challenge him at times. Poke the bear so to speak. When you’re training it excites him, every little blow, touch and aim gets him excited. It’s the rush of the adrenaline and the fact someone is challenging his authority. He’d never hurt you obviously. But he will end up pinning you, it could be against the floor or the wall. It doesn’t matter. If you aren’t up for it, he won’t pursue. Not that you wouldn’t be. Destroy his back. Nobody else see’s it so you can go to town on it. The harder the better. It reminds him that he’s fucking you so good you’re struggling to hold on. Gotta inflate that ego. N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) He won’t hurt you, hurt himself, or have you take things OTT. There’s light teasing and light bondage, but he will not escalate it, to the point it jeopardises himself or you. He still has (some) reputation. Will not boast about sex or private information.  He doesn’t need Kuai knowing that you deepthroated him last night. Or that he gets turned on by you yanking his hair. Not him yanking yours but the other way around. Doesn’t need to be divulged. He would not be happy, if Johnny found out. Would not be able to cope with the clown knowing. O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) Up until he’d met you, his experience with oral will have been non-existent. It fucking destroys him. Stoic, hard-arse man? More like melted, moaning fucking mess. He’s just sat in a chair, unable to move because his legs may give way. He fucking loves receiving. It’s so nice to feel your mouth close around him… but he does love to give. He loves watching you come undone from his mouth, your eyes locking with his. You don’t have to say anything, but he knows your begging for more. He does prefer to receive though. He would totally give you oral with your back pressed against a wall. Legs around his shoulders, his arms hooked under your thighs, and him eating you out like a man starved. He wouldn’t be great to start with and would take some practise, but he’s got the patience to train at it. P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) It can vary depending on; Where you are fucking, the emotion being felt and what you’re actually doing. If you’re both rage fucking or are just generally fucking horny, it’ll be fast, rough and kind of sloppy. If it’s more of an intimate moment, it’ll be slower and more sensual. If you’re giving him oral, he’ll have a preference for slow yet rough. If he’s giving you oral, expect it to start out slow and teasing, before turning to fast and wild. Pacing is something he has to work on, he’s a bit out of practise, he won’t ever admit it, but you can tell. Just go with the flow, let him work his pacing out and help him. You’ll reap the rewards. Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) Hated them when you first stared. His sexual experiences all came from proper sex before you. He slowly grows to love them. They can be fast and convenient when you’re both horny, but time is a bit of an issue. He learns how to pleasure you and get all the things he and you love from proper sex, from the quickies. R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) At first, due to him not being confident, he is not down to experiment much. He’ll stick to what he knows. He’s a proud man and doesn’t like to admit defeat. After a while, he’ll start to want to try new things. Then it’s a world of exploration. He’s got some reputation to uphold so he will not risk anything that damages that or hurts either of you permanently or is just malicious. S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) He has a fair bit of stamina, which comes from years of training. He would prefer one round in comparison to many. Quality over quantity you know. He can go for a long time, but he will take into consideration your stamina. If you’re wavering he will finish. He doesn’t expect you to match his stamina, it’s nigh on impossible. T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Yeah, he doesn’t own any. Not a massive fan. He’s got a lot of pride, and he does, internally, pride himself on him being able to get you off. He’d much rather it be him than a lump of plastic. U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He can tease but it depends on your and his mood. If he’s in a teasing mood it can be pretty heavy teasing. If he’s in the mood for it, you can literally push his buttons to the point he’s fucking you pretty hard. He doesn’t mind being teased if he’s in the right mood for it. Don’t do it in front of others however. He’s got honour and dignity, and nobody else needs to hear it. V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) He can be loud, well loud for a ninja. He’s spent his whole life trying to be silent. But due to his lack of experience. He can easily be over-sensitised. He tends to be louder when you’re giving him oral. He has nothing to muffle the sound with. You’ve caught him biting at his knuckles before. When he’s fucking you, he will muffle his moans using the crook of your neck. Pretty sinful noises, and ones you would have never expected to have come from him. W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) NSFW; Will on occasion, speak in Japanese whilst fucking you. You have no idea what he’s saying but it is pretty hot as fuck. It’s really just a mix of praise and absolute filth. He’ll never tell you, you need to figure out what he’s saying. He knows how much it teases you and he loves it. SFW; Loves to cuddle. He will never admit this and will only do it in private. He’s a Master of being a mardy arse (Yorkshire slang for moody) and he doesn’t want to admit he has a softer side. But he can’t help himself around you. He actually would not mind being the little spoon on occasion. Loves to feel your arms embracing him, trying to ground and anchor him from spiralling. Feels guilty, because he has thought about marrying you on a lot of occasions. Specifically, when its just the two of you, your arms entangled and your soft breath hitting his chest. X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) On the larger side. Probably pushing 6” Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) Not very high at all. To start with. He loves it with you, the feel of your skin on his makes him crave it more. But it’s still not overly high. He’s not a very sexual driven person. He’s more into the intimacy rather than ‘hey you wanna fuck? GET OVER HERE’ Yeah no, that’s not happening. Sorry to spear pop some bubbles. Sex is intimate and not just something to be taken lightly. But he does grow to love it and love the pleasure from it a lot more. Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Waits for you to fall asleep first. He likes to be alert and ready for anything. Nothing and no one will take you from him. Or hurt you whilst he’s around. He also loves to watch your face and muscles relax as you sleep. It reminds him of how lucky he has to have a second chance. But it does make him feel guilty. The guilt can make it hard for him to fall asleep.

[areiton]

the duty of love

a little post-endgame sambucky because I had feels. 

READ ON AO3 

~*~ 

Here's what Captain Goddamn America didn't tell you--

It's heavy.  

Vibranium is the strongest metal on earth, and it’s light. You picked it up, once, the shield, handed it to Cap as you took your place at his back, and he tossed it on his back, an extension of his own arm, you thought then.

It was light. Impossibly so. It confused you, then.

It confuses you now.

Because it’s yours, and it isn’t fluid, it isn’t an extension of your own arm, doesn’t respond to you the way it always did to him. It feels unfamiliar and unweildy and you think--maybe that’s just the way things are.

Maybe he was wrong, to chose you.

~*~

You think Steve Rogers had three great loves in his life.

Bucky Barnes was his first great love, the north star that guided every decision he ever made, the steady bedrock to his life.

Peggy Carter was his tragic second love, a woman caught in a war that saw him, that trusted him and helped him. You wonder sometimes, what would have happened, if he hadn’t put the plane down in the ice--if Buck hadn’t fallen from that train. If they all went home--which would he have chosen?

Or would it have been the shield? His third love, the one that shaped the man he became,  that taught him to love beyond the small confines of a Brooklyn boy pulled into a war too big for him.

You wonder, watching the sun rise and glint and shatter on the shield--you wonder if you could ever love it like that.

You wonder if you want to.

~*~

You put on the wings, stood at Steve’s side, and you figured out real damn quick being an Avenger meant everyone had an opinion. First it was just your mailman, dropping your USPS packages and a critique of the way you handled the Doombots in Central Park. Your barista flirting and giggling and telling you you were a hero. Your neice bragging about you to her class, cops hasseling you because if there was something they hated more than superheroes doing their jobs, it was a black superhero doing their job. Then it’s the new media talking about you and your military record, about your discharge and Riley’s death, it’s your boss--letting you go because you carried too much baggage--and it’s not as easy to shrug it off.

That was easier, than this.

Than the weight of it all. You wonder, sometimes, how Steve did it. How he held his head up when everyone was throwing stones and telling him it was wrong.

You smile at Fox News, you give sound bites to CNN, you ignore the endless blogs and pundits and when you’re exhausted and can’t do any more, when everything is never enough--you go home.

~*~

Bucky found the house.

It’s a small thing in the country, isolated but cozy, close enough for you to fly in without trouble. It’s out of the way enough that no one has pieced together where the new Captain America hangs up his wings at night. You know they will--but you savor the solitude while you can.

And Bucky has made it a home. It’s reassuring, stepping inside, the scent of fresh baked bread and savory stew heavy in the air, one of Buck’s cats bounding up and twisting around your ankles. Books are piled in stacks on every table and near the couch, and music hums low and soothing through the air as you makes your way to the kitchen.

Marvin Gaye. Bucky has been listening to him more often, lately.

You stand in the doorway for a long time, silently watching Bucky doing the dishes and murmuring to Bitch.

“He isn’t supposed to be on the counters,” you grumble, and Bucky flicks a smile at you over his shoulder. You don’t move, don’t do anything but stare back, steady and bland, because you don’t want him to see how much that smile means to you.

His expression twists a little, worry shading his eyes and scoops Bitch up with damp hands, passes her to you and you sigh, snuggle into her dark fur. “Bad day, sweetheart?” he asks and you close your eyes and nod. He makes a wordless noise and leads you to the couch, nudges Asshole and Princess aside so you are flanked by cats and brings you dinner and you think--

The world can go to hell, can hate and judge and find you wanting.

You will keep this.

~*~

Steve Rogers had three great love stories.

You only had one.

And you watched him die, unable to stop it, unable to help him.

Riley wasn’t your north star. He was your world, everything good and bad and mundane. You loved him in that way so few people get--completely, a friend, brother, lover. He was your partner, your shield in war, the arms that held you safe when your nightmares woke you screaming, the grin coaxing you to laugh, the asshole who left wet towels on the floor, and the warm weight in your bed.

He was everything.

And then he was gone, and it wasn’t like a bomb going off in your life, so much as an implosion, a black hole that dragged everything in until you were sure Riley’s death would kill you both.

~*~

You have new nightmares, after you come back.

The old ones too--the Winter Soldier ripping you from the sky, Riley’s scream cutting off with a sickening thud, Rhodes plunging from the sky, the saltwater choking you on the Raft.

But there are new ones.

Nightmares of endless mist and your body dissolving into nothing, dreams of Bucky’s voice, panicked and hurt and forever out of reach, and Riley screaming your name overlaying his until you were sure who was calling you, only that you had to answer.

You dream of Russian words chanted in a cold cadance, and soft gray eyes cold and lifeless and metal hands around your throat.

You dream of a house on fire and Bucky frozen and falling under the crushing weight of a shield you aren’t sure you want.

You dream and you dream and you dream and wake yourself from the nightmares and always--Bucky is there.

He curls next to you on the couch, and Princess digs her claws into your thigh and his soothing Russian lullaby soothes you into a dreamless sleep.

~*~

Bucky doesn’t fight. Some days, when you come in and strip out of your gear--you see the familiar old longing in his eyes, the itch for the fight battling with how tired he is.

You always feel guilty for that.

Because he is here, and you think--it would be easier for him to be at peace if he were anywhere else.

Living with Captain America, he will never truly rest.

You think about it, and sometimes, it sits on the tip of your tongue. The offer to let him go, to reassure him you’ll be ok, on your own.

You always swallow them back. You are too selfish to voice them.

He wouldn’t listen or believe you, even if you did.

~*~

This is a truth you know--when you come home, Bucky will be waiting.

You slip in, and you are bloody and tired, too tired to bother with the Compound and the debrief. Carol had given you a concerned look, like she wanted you to stay and you stepped away from that concern because Bucky was waiting.

He is.

He’s sitting on the couch, a book forgotten in his lap and he stills when he sees you.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you say.

He makes a low, furious sound, stalking across the living room and into your space, but for all of his rage, his hands are gentle, fingers barely there brushes as he traces the bruises, the still bleeding cut on your lip and forehead.

“Ribs?” he asks, a low murmur and you nod, lean into him as his arm comes around your waist and it’s not what you want, his touch is gentle and caring but it’s not laced with love and tenderness the way you want.

But as you let him pull you gentle into the bathroom, let him clean your wounds and bind your ribs and wash the blood from your hands--you think this is enough.

If this is all he can ever give you, it is enough.

~*~

You wondered, at first, why he chose you.

Bucky Barnes was his best friend, his great love, his north star.

And he gave you the shield.

But as you carry it.

As you struggle under the weight of it, the expectation that comes with it, the responsibilities of it--you understand.

He would never give this to Bucky.

He loved Bucky too much.

You hate him, sometimes, for that--but you understand it too.

You love Bucky too much to give it to him, too.

~*~

Steve Rogers had three great loves.

You--you don’t.

You loved Riley, will love him always, you think. A love written in your bones, so deep and indelible you couldn’t scrub it out if you wanted to.

And you love Bucky.

Quiet and grumpy and beautiful and steady--he has become the whole of your world, and when you pick up the shield, you wonder if it’s for the world, or for one man and his three cats and the peace your blood buys.

~*~

The world picks you apart.

You fight, limp away, sway under the weight of a duty you never wanted, never asked for, don’t know how to shoulder.

And gray eyes steady you, strong hands--metal and flesh--hold you up, warm arms pull you close when nightmares chase you in the dark.

You wonder if he stays, because of the shield or because of you, but you never ask.

The world picks you apart, pries at the hairline fractures the weight of the shield splinter to the surface--and Bucky holds you together.

~*~

You find him on the porch, barefoot and sleep warm, sit close and he leans his head against your shoulder, long hair tickling your bare skin, and the sun rises, and you bask in it, in this stolen moment of peace and quiet.

“Are you happy?” he asks, and you nod against his hair.

“With you, I am.”

He shivers, a little, and you almost pull away, but his hand slips around your waist, holds you still.

“Are you happy carrying the shield?”

You pause, and eyes as pale as the pre-dawn sky meet yours.

“I’m happy you don’t have to,” you say, too honest, too tired to lie. Your breath catches, and Bucky’s smile--

His smile is blinding and beautiful, and you taste nothing but joy on his lips when he kisses you.

[midnight-writ3r]

A bed, too big

Pairing: Hyunjin x Genderneutral Reader

Genre: Fluff, implied sexual content, humor if you squint

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Inspired by: The author´s frustration of their bed being too big, send help :(

Summary: "This is ridiculous", you laugh, trying not to let how affected you are, show, "Let go. I´m putting on a shirt."

"If you get up and put any kind of clothing on your body right now, I´m breaking up with you." He groans and you burst out laughing. 

A/N: I just wanted to write something wholesome tbh and who is more wholesome than Hyunjin and what is better than morning gayness/straightness/anykindofness. I just wow I lob that giant baby, please enjoy <3<3

–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*–*

Sunlight dances on the walls, as the wind from outside ruffles through the curtains. From outside, faint noises seep into the room, like a stream of white noise. You barely pay attention to it. Your mind is still trying to clear itself from the fog of sleep and as you stretch, you get the feeling back into your muscles. The clock on your nightstand ticks away, but you ignore it. There is no need to pay attention to minutes, hours or seconds. Today, is free for you to spend as you please. And you have a pretty good idea on how you want to spend it already.

Turning your head, you see Hyunjin´s black hair poke from under the blanket. It´s tangled, knots making it stick in every direction possible and the sight makes you smile. He´s going to be pissed at you once he sees it, since the constant tugging last night, is most likely the cause of the mess. However, you always know how to save yourself from a scolding with a sweet pout and some kisses, so you´re not too worried.

Unable to resist, you pull the blanket out of the way to reveal his sleeping face. For a moment, you try to hold in a snort. Hyunjin has his mouth opened slightly and there´s a tiny trail of dried drool drawing a line down his cheek. He always makes fun of you for snoring, but you have yet to call him out on his drooling, because you´re just that nice. Plus, it´s kind of cute and you´d be sad if he actively tried to break that habit.

Your hand, with its own mind, trails forward to stroke his cheek. At the first contact, his eyelids flutter. Then one eye opens and then another. His first reaction when he sees you is a pleased hum and that eye-smile you love so much. Not even fully awake yet, Hyunjin already wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, until his nose is pressed against your neck. Neither is wearing anything apart from briefs and the feeling of you skin against his is so soft and domestic, all you want is to go back to sleep.

"Morning." You chuckle, cradling his head in your arms.

"Morning", he whispers back, his voice still a bit raspy, "I missed you."

You smile and press his head tighter against you, so he won´t see the redness to your cheeks, "We literally slept in the same bed."

"But you weren´t in my dreams", he croaks. Then he curses softly at the state of his voice, "damn, my voice sounds like I haven´t had any water in two weeks."

You pull back, so he can see your shit-eating grin, "Well you did use it pretty actively last night."

He hides his face in his hands with an embarrassed whine, "How is that fair? You sound completely fine."

"I´m a natural."

The both of you burst out laughing at that. Once he´s calmed down, he climbs on top of you with a wide grin. You raise a brow at him, but let your arms loop around his neck anyways. There´s something so soft in his gaze that makes your fingertips prickle and your mind go wide-awake. How the hell are you so lucky?

"I have a proposition to make." He says then.

"I´m all ears."

"We do not move out of this apartment and if possible, not out of this bed either, for the whole day." Hyunjin´s smile is so proud you have to hold back a cooing sound.

You let one of your hands wander into his hair, carding the knots out of his strands, "And what do you suggest we do in here for the whole day?"

"Hm, we could watch movies, or read to each other or cuddle", with every word, he closes the space between his and your lips, "or kiss, or… other things."

You laugh and lean up to give him a peck, "You´ve got it all planned out, I see."

"All of it."

"What about food?" You purse your lips.

It´s obvious he´s only half listening, because he leans down against and places a series of loving pecks on your lips, each one lasting longer than the previous, "Let´s just order in." he mumbles, mind already somewhere completely else.

Meeting all of his kisses, you let your hands wander over his shoulders, down his chest, "And what about a shower?"

"I´ll only allow one together."

"Oh, bossy." You tease and he chuckles against your lips.

Your legs wind around his hips and as he looks down at you, Hyunjin pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. At the sight, you narrow your eyes in a distrustful manner, "Oh no. No, no, no." you push against his shoulder, but he doesn´t budge, only pushes his body flush against yours and grabs one of your thighs, "No, we´re not doing this first thing in the morning. We haven´t even brushed our teeth yet."

Your giggled arguments fall on death ears, as Hyunjin latches onto your neck. He´s sucking tiny marks into the skin that isn´t covered from last night yet. His hand is rubbing up and down your thigh in the same rhythm that his hips circle against yours and you can practically FEEL his smirk, pressing into your skin. Everything feels so good; you have to do everything in your abilities to not let your mind fill up with just Hyunjin. To your disadvantage (or advantage – that´s debatable), your boyfriend knows all your sweet spots like they are tattooed onto your body.

"This is ridiculous", you laugh, trying not to let how affected you are, show, "Let go. I´m putting on a shirt."

"If you get up and put any kind of clothing on your body right now, I´m breaking up with you." He groans and you burst out laughing.

Throwing your precaution out of the window, you roll your eyes and then push against his chest. With a short pressure, you have the tables turned, sitting on top of his hips.

"No fair." you pout.

He whines, when your hands splay across his chest, "I´m not the only one playing dirty here."

Humming, your fingertips dance across his stomach, feeling the muscles flex under your touch. "Now", you lean down, your tone as alluring as you can manage, "I´m gonna do something very, very naughty."

"W-what is that?" He stammers, his chest twitching with excited breaths and his eyes closed, to take in your voice.

"I will", you leap off of him and from the bed, "put on a shirt and you can´t stop me!"

"Oh no you won´t!" As fast as lightning, Hyunjin is on his feet and chasing after you.

The curtains still sway in the wind, as your laughter rings through the apartment; outshining even the sun.

–*– FIN –*–

[rwbyremnants]

BIG WARNING: THIS ONE IS HET. Probably the only het fic we’ll do besides the little bits of Arkos fluff in SWTD. Lots of Dom/sub stuff so you should skip it if that is not your thing. Fic is set before the epilogue of White Noise; it will contain some small plot details for the broader WN universe.

Also… I realise some of you may have reservations about this fic. Especially after what recently came to light with Qrow’s voice actor (I won’t go into details, you can look those up elsewhere). But this story is still very important for plot reasons within the White Noise universe, and was written a couple of years ago – yes, multiple years, we have a lot of backlog. Plus I hate to hold an actor’s behaviour against the character. Hopefully you can still get some enjoyment out of it, despite that (and that it’s a straight ship for most of you who come to this account for the lezbeans). If not, you can look forward to the next installment which will be full of our usual gayness!

Thanks again to CoNzz for the editing help! It was much appreciated!

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Cock teasing, fellatio, kitchen sex, doggy style, light spanking.

=Chapter 1

"Shame you're not an Uber driver. View like this, smooth ride… you're a five star all the way."

That was one of many unneeded comments from the passenger in Winter Schnee's car. Her lip curled as she kept her eyes on the road, trying to deaf them out. What had she done to deserve this?

The answer was, a lot of things. Two years had passed since that conversation on the jet plane, where she had promised one Yang Xiao Long, and later her sister, Weiss, that there would be no more “dirty dealings” going on in the company. This was meant for her own safety and protection, but as time went on, company with one's self was just missing something. It was bland, dull, colourless… and it gave her too much time to reflect on how close she had come to forcing her sister’s girlfriend into committing suicide. She found herself needing extracurricular activities.

One such activity, which Yang suggested, was joining in with her father and uncle's weekly bowling matches. They had been missing a team member for a while, so she was welcomed into the group, though her game was a bit rusty. Gutterballs aside, it seemed to have been an enjoyable enough night, even if one member of the team seemed unable to keep his booze-fueled comments to himself. The same team member who she insisted on driving home rather than let him stumble there.

"Then I expect you to pay for fuel, at the absolute least. No matter how much you spent on fueling yourself." Though she did not take her eyes off the road, she was sorely tempted. The scruffy man, Qrow - if that was his real name, which seemed highly unlikely - was slouched down so low that his knees were pressed up against the dashboard. She would have had to glance down and into the actual seat to see his face.

A face that brought about a mixed reaction. All night, as she attempted to improve her game, she had both wanted to gaze curiously at his noble features, and slap it in equal measure. Something about his confidence brought about both emotions. Either way, her dislike certainly had nothing to do with his looks; he was just her type in that regard. But she refused to let herself dwell on that and that alone.

Both Taiyang and Yang had warned Winter of Qrow Branwen. The drunk, the guy who spoke his mind without giving a second thought, or a damn about anyone other than himself. He didn't care if the flirting annoyed Winter, nor particularly if his posture and cocky attitude did, either. In a way, the forthrightness was refreshing, even if it grated on her nerves.

"I had like, one drink." When he raised his hand up it displayed three fingers rather than just the one. Then he smirked to himself as he held his hands behind his head instead, spreading his legs out wide as he leant back. "Besides… I wouldn't have to ride in your precious car if you weren't so insistent on driving me. It's a left here, toots."

Under her breath, Winter muttered, "People still say 'toots' anymore?" as she turned the car in the direction indicated. Indeed, he was repulsive… but only in manner, and the smell of alcohol. Despite the five o'clock shadow on his jaw, he was very neat and well-kept, and obviously in fantastic shape. He just liked to do his best impression of a complete jerk at all times.

"Y'know, I figured when Tai said my neph- niece's girl's sister was coming along, I expected someone a lot shorter." He commented, head freely bobbing with the motions of the car as he still leant back against the chair, like his head was too heavy to support by itself. But then it slumped in her direction, eyes raking her figure from top to bottom. Particularly the bottom. "Gotta say it worked in my favour. I dig tall chicks."

The rigid woman's eyebrows shot upward as she pulled up to a stop sign, which allowed her the luxury of turning to glare down at him. "Excuse me?! I… I'm not that tall. And I am not a 'chick', you disrespectful boor!"

He only smirked, nodding very slowly. "Nah, you're not." But when she pulled off again, he looked back to the road and added, "More like a hen."

"Oh, a 'hen', am I?" She'd had enough of being teased; it was time to tease back. "Guess that makes you a rooster, doesn't it? If I've ever met a man who's a giant cock, it's you."

That only made him laugh. It was a shame they were nearing the shoddy apartment building, or so he thought. He'd have to make the final comment as they pulled onto the curb a good one. And so he did.

"I know I'm a giant cock." The smirk grew wider. "Or maybe you meant ‘who’s got a giant cock’. ‘S true, too."

Though her expression was disgusted… her mouth stilled as she guided closer to the parking spaces. To him, he would have thought she was simply tired of exchanging such lowbrow conversation. In reality…

What if it were true? He was a decent-looking man, with that mussed, steel-grey hair, brooding eyes, just the right amount of scratchy stubble. If he was endowed in addition, perhaps this was worth exploring – should he even be sober enough to get said endowment to rise. Just because she had sworn off sleeping with clients to further her sister’s pop star career didn’t mean she had to swear off all one-night stands.

"Well, here you are," she grunted, putting the car in park. "Should I help carry you up to your room, or can you still walk?"

"Oh pssshh. I ain't that drunk." But the way he had to place his hand on the door multiple times to find the handle said otherwise. He did finally manage it and climbed free from the car. Of course he hadn't worn a seatbelt; what did she expect?

But once he shut the car door again when outside, he leant in against the open window, head tilting to one side as he leered at her. She hadn't got rid of him yet. "Unless that was your subtle way of asking if you could come up to see said giant cock… or have a drink, whatever comes up first."

The boldness of his offer, coupled with how unconcerned he seemed to be about the whole matter, sent a thrill through her stomach. One she knew all too well. Without letting that show in her face, she responded, "I'll come up to make sure you don't miss your own door handle and crack your head open on it. We'll see about the rest."

His eyes widened a little in surprise – and also showed how bloodshot they were. "Huh… never expected that one to work, but, whatever. Not gonna look a gift-horse in the mouth."

She spotted him up a couple of flights of stairs, Qrow stumbling and supporting himself on the railing all the way there. Until they got to the middle floor. Winter could only assume his place would be a common scene from the shabbiness of the building itself. Poorly maintained, cheap and old. A place just as rough as him; how appropriate.

Once fumbling with the key to the door over and over, he eventually pushed open the door to his apartment. Yet again rough, but not as bad as what one would expect. There were a few bottles here and there, the odd garment of clothing on the sofa, but nothing too major. Qrow had made it the best he could with all his secondhand budget furnishings. What more could you do with a tiny one-bedroom apartment?

"What's your poison?" he asked, staggering into the small kitchen area.

"Perrier. But somehow, I doubt you have that, so any water will do – or club soda with lemon or lime, if you don't even have water." The last was intended as a jab at his drinking, but in truth, she wasn't sure he'd have a single bottle of water in a bachelor pad like that.

Pacing around the room, Winter ran a finger over the top of the television. The coating of dust was there, but thin; he'd cleaned within the past week or so. The DVDs on the stand were all of action movies, season sets of a cop drama. The very picture of a man who spent a lot of time alone. Against her will, she frowned at them, thinking that perhaps he had it coming considering the crudeness of his flirtation tactics… but she also felt sorry for him not having anyone in his life on a regular basis.

"I got working plumbing," the voice called up from in the kitchen area again. Indeed, this was a man who didn't get many visitors at all. Not even Taiyang or his nieces visited very often. He was a man who went to them, rather than had guests up in his own underwhelming apartment. For one reason or another.

"Then pour me whatever," she called back distractedly. In fact, it was fairly obvious that he had no intention of having guests over at all, considering the choice magazines that were simply out on the coffee table. There were at least five different Sports Illustrated issues there; two of which features swimsuits, as she had dreaded. Also, a periodical about guns. Rolling her eyes, she shoved at them idly…

And saw something peeking out from under the cover of a football player headed for a touchdown. Something decidedly more conspicuous than the others. Another swimsuit issue? Nipping it out from underneath, she had to suppress a gasp of shock that he might have heard.

It was porn. The man literally kept porn in his living room.

The cover showed a girl all in leather sitting on top of another girl wearing a dog collar, which instantly piqued her interest. Was he… that kind of man? Flipping through the rest, she saw it was largely the usual; some lesbians, some straight couples, most of them doing the typical scenes. Only the cover was slanted toward a darker variety of "play" – probably merely as a tactic to hook the reader.

There were a few curse words yelled alongside the obvious stumbling in the kitchen from where he went to get the glasses, and then the pouring of water. He was distracted for now, it seemed. That appeared to be the only magazine of such a variety in the living room, but even then, it seemed to be a subtle hint to the man Qrow was. What his interests were. At least none of the pages seemed particularly worn from being held open.

'Perhaps he hasn't read it yet,’' she thought to herself reasonably, trying not to get overly excited or paranoid, or read anything more into the situation than was in front of her. All this meant was that he had a porn magazine; it might have been a cheeky gift from Taiyang. Perhaps he did get off to it but only the more typical scenes inside, he or just liked to glance at the cover and laugh. Plenty of explanations. Even so…

When she heard him coming, she slid the magazine back where she found it, straightened the rest, and perched on the couch cushion as if she had been sitting there all the while. Thankfully, he was too drunk to notice, and simply paced toward the living area with the two glasses in hand. One large one for Winter, filled with ice water. The other, a smaller glass, filled with whiskey and a single cube. Clearly he didn’t intend on slowing down now that he was home.

"Can't exactly say I expected guests, but…" As he handed the glass to her, he looked around. "Welcome to the chicken coop."

"Yes, it's… charming." She was above rude comments on a person's living conditions, unless they had to do with literal messiness. In Qrow's case, that would just be nitpicky. Sipping at her water, she asked, "Have you lived here long?"

"Six years, give or take?" Allowing himself to fall onto the other end of the sofa, he slumped straight away, spreading his legs once more when he relaxed. Typical man… "Remember the first thing I did when I got the place set up was have Yang over for some ‘guy time’ watching the game. Only to find out she'd come over to tell me that he was a she." Taking a sip of his drink for a moment, he sighed, "Weird memory to look back on but really is the first thing I remember about this place."

"I envy that memory," she sighed easily, crossing her legs as she sat back. "My… sister-in-law, I suppose she is. Did they tell you the story, about how I found out?"

"Nope, I just assumed you got told like I did." Although a few seconds after taking his next sip, he seemed to slow right down, smacking his lips together. "And… now realise that… you might not have known and I could'a just outted her randomly… well, fuck. I’m pretty chatty when I’m on the sauce."

"Don't worry, you didn't breach her confidence," she added with a little chuckle. Then she cleared her throat. "I… was worried she wasn't what she seemed, so I did some investigating. Outed her behind her back, and thought I had discovered some great secret. Of course, that was my ignorance; I understand that now."

For most whom she had told the story to, they glared or reprimanded her – even though she trusted very few of them with that. Some asked asked her why it was such a big deal because they were ignorant themselves. Either way, it seemed to lead to arguments and judgement. Yet Qrow never shifted. He kept staring into nothing as he swirled his drink around.

"Least that shit happened when she didn't trust you." He spoke rather softly. "She trusted me when I was an asshole about it. Said a lotta shit that turned out to be just… ignorance, like you said."

"Oh, and that's so hard to believe after the way you've behaved all night." But considering the man looked put out enough by the memory already, she reached over to swat him lightly on the knee to show she was only winding him up. "How were you an ass?"

It seemed to be appreciated. Downing the remains of his drink, he placed the glass on the coffee table on top of the magazines. "Acted like it never happened. Poor girl poured her heart out to me, and all I did was keep inviting her on guys’ nights out and to watch the game here. I thought she was just a crossdresser or gay or whatever, or it was a phase."

Nodding, Winter mulled that over as she took another drink. "And… I'm going to assume she didn't get quite as much out of the male-oriented activities as you were hoping?"

"I got a quiet kid sat on the sofa with her mouth shut. It was Ruby that one day came with her and told me what I was doing, how I was hurting her." Shrugging his shoulders on his chair, he looked over to her. "Says a lot when your youngest niece is coming over telling you you made her older sister cry."

"You had no way of knowing," she sighed with a little nod. This was an area she definitely had experience with. "You and I… we grew up thinking you were a man, or you were a woman, and that was that. Anyone else was living in a fantasy world." Crossing her legs in the opposite direction out of nerves, she continued, "And then our family members made sure we learned differently, didn't they?"

It pulled a small smile to one side of his face as he nodded, still staring out at nothing for a while longer while he recollected all the memories, and thought about his niece and her relationship again. "Yeah. They're good kids. Couldn't ask for anything else."

"I can't believe I ever tried to break them up. And almost succeeded." Staring down at her water, she muttered under her breath, "Maybe I should have taken you up on that drink, after all."

Slapping his knees before lifting himself onto his feet, he flashed a mixture of smirk and earnest smile. It was the best they had got on for hours, but there was a small victory in knowing she was comfortable having a drink. Heading back into the kitchen, he called out, "What's your poison, then? And you're welcome to crash on the couch if you wanna get shiftfaced."

"Gin and tonic, if you have it," she finally acquiesced, feeling as if she had sunk to new depths, accepting a drink from a man she should be driving to an AA meeting. "And you never did say about that lime!"

"Does this place look like it'd have fresh lime, toots?"

Unusually, the two seemed to get along for the rest of the evening. Winter had agreed to have a larger drink after all, when Qrow had convinced her she could take his bed should she decide to stay, or he'd call her a taxi if she wanted to leave. They bonded over a few more glasses, and TV casually in the background. But as they drank, they continued to talk about their experiences with Yang.

It was strange how talking about such a subject seemed to bring them together, but the mutual venting about how awful they felt with themselves helped them to heal – to know that they were not alone in being ignorant, and that it wasn’t too uncommon to learn from their past mistakes. Especially now they knew things had worked out in the end. In fact, Winter was just about finishing her tale. The full story.

Which seemed to have Qrow staring off into nothing, barely able to look at her after what was just told. "…And there I was thinking her ex, Blake, was the emo one. Never expected someone as fiery as Yang to feel so low she’d try to do a thing like that."

"Never thought simply asking someone to consider my sister's feelings would nearly drive them to suicide. Though that isn’t quite what I did, it’s what I thought I was doing." Taking another belt of her brandy, she sighed, eyes wincing at the strength of the drink. "But, as we've all discussed, I had no way of knowing… they were the real thing. I didn't understand what 'trans' meant, that she wasn't some 'man in disguise' trying to corrupt my sister. She did then, and still does, mean the world to me. I thought I was doing my job as a big sister, and…"

Tears had begun to creep into her voice, but she took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and took another. "No. I'm done crying over that; I made mistakes, I have been forgiven."

Putting his third finished glass for the evening down, Qrow sat back on the sofa again, running a hand through his hair while he thought about everything. Obviously he had felt slight anger, considering the one in question was a niece. But as Winter said, it was in the past. It wasn't like she could go back and “fix” it. After more rational thinking, he even shrugged his shoulders.

"Always knew that kinda stuff ran in this side the family. Depression and all that shit. My sister; her mom, was the same. Guess I hoped it skipped a generation."

"You understand, right? That if I even had the slightest inkling… that I would at least have been more polite, or asked more questions. Done something different!" Taking another deep breath, she wiped at her eyes, more to prevent tears from falling than because any had. "I can't imagine Yang not being a part of my sister's life now. Part of my extended family. I just… didn't know her and didn't see my own prejudice was tainting my view of her."

"Hey." Sitting up straight, he managed to smile slightly. "Worked out in the end, right? Those girls are off on tour together, you and Weiss are tighter than ever. Shit mighta happened, but no point in beating yourself up now."

Another deep breath. Those were becoming a habit. It was one of the many ways Winter helped deal with her mistakes of the past. But she did have others.

"You're too kind to me," she told him, laying a hand on his knee. Somewhat neutral territory; not too high so that she seemed easy, or provocative, but it was an initiation of physical contact. Something to build on.

"Think I got a can of Pringles or something. Will help sober us up before bed, I guess." But he didn't leave just yet, simply holding the glasses in his hand a little longer while he tried to keep upright. Seemed that's what he needed.

After some time had passed, Winter pushed his thigh to get him moving vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. "Then don't just stand there, get…" Then she yawned widely. "Go… oooing. Whoo, I think this brandy is going to my head."

"Maybe it's bedtime and not snacktime, huh?" The rugged man had finally managed to stumble into the kitchen, dumping the glasses into the sink. He could take care of them in the morning. More concerned for making sure his guest was settled, he paced back out and into the living space again, nodding to gesture to one of the doors. "Come on, let's get you to bed, Snowbird."

"Snowbird?" she half-laughed as she stood, also wobbling on her feet. "Woo… alright, perhaps you have a point…" As she approached, she asked, "But where will you sleep?"

"On the sofa. Where else?" Holding open the door to the bedroom, he waited patiently for her to enter. "Knock out there pretty often. ‘Sides, a lady such as yourself deserves better’n my crummy couch."

Thankfully, the state of the bedroom was better than the living room instead of worse. The bed wasn't made, but there weren't any spare clothes or porn magazines left out and about. If anything, the only embarrassment was the many bottles in the trash can; otherwise, it was very well-kept. Though a very mild tingle shot through her stomach at the idea of laying amongst his sheets, smelling his masculine scent all night, she was professional enough to suppress that. Clearing her throat, she began to kick off her flats.

"Well, I thank you for being a gentleman. If this happens again, I'll plan to catch a cab so you don't have to do this for me."

"Hey, bed's available any time. Save your cash." Once she was sat down on the bed, he waited a moment longer by the door, watching for a small while. It was the first time he'd had a woman in his apartment for a long time, let alone one in his bed. Not that it would lead to anything more, he expected. Still… "Can I get you anything else, or are you alright here?"

"Well, I think we handled the nightcap," she told him with a small smirk. "But thank you. Goodnight, Sir Rooster."

"Night, Snowbird." It seemed to suit her better than the word 'hen', at least – given her sometimes cold nature, and the white hair. Without another word, he finally stepped back toward the main room again, shutting the door behind him quietly.

As far as things went, sleeping on the sofa didn't seem too bad of a price to pay for the evening's events. Qrow had found a friend in one of the least likely people he expected. And had her back at his place! As he stripped down to just his boxers for the warm night ahead, he laid down and stared blankly at the ceiling for a while in thought. They had one thing in common in that they had taken more time than others to accept Yang, and maybe they were both helping each other deal with the sadness that followed after realising their mistakes. But was that really enough of a bond to build a lasting friendship upon?

Maybe that would come tomorrow, he thought. The morning could hold plenty of possibilities.

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

When Winter awoke the next morning, she was momentarily puzzled by her surroundings. Those weren't her sheets, her curtains. They weren't even ones that belonged to the Schnee condo in California, or a hotel room. Where on earth…?

And then it came back to her in a flash when she breathed in, and found herself swimming in musky aftershave and other hints of manliness. Qrow Branwen's apartment. They had drank too much to even manage calling her a taxi. She tried to feel disgusted with herself, but being enveloped by that sent was oddly comforting. That was something she would no doubt be analysing to death later, when she didn't feel too at peace to examine anything.

Finally, however, the call of nature ended her reverie. Peeling herself out of the dark sheets, she just managed to remember to grab her slacks from the floor and pull them on; she didn't want to present too much of a show to him just for going to the bathroom.

She glanced at the couch as she went from one door to another, and saw his grey head on the arm. Still asleep. Trying not to wake him, she did her business and stole a drop of mouthwash, then rinsed the sleep from her face as best she could. Not bad, for having none of her usual morning ritual products. Her hair was only slightly turning into a bird's nest. She did notice again that she was definitely getting older, but she tried not to think about the bags under her eyes, the very beginnings of wrinkles. The passage of time could not be stopped so there was little point in fretting; she just had to finally start contemplating Botox, using face creams. That was the best she could do.

However, when she exited and began to approach his sleeping form, she was in for a mild surprise. For an old drunk, Qrow wasn’t half bad looking. In addition to the flattering stubble and rugged looks, he had a remarkably well toned body. This was a man who clearly worked out in his spare time, when he wasn't drinking or bowling.

Rather impressive arms and slightly visible abs aside, there was another highly noticeable factor: he wasn't exactly lying about the “giant cock” part, either. There was a rather obvious ridge pressed up against his boxer shorts – one that seemed to have a sizable length to it, at that. The occasional twitch proved it was real, and he hadn't just stuffed socks down there to make an impression when she saw him.

Gradually however, his head moved lightly against the arm of the sofa as he began to wake… and Winter found herself disappointed that she wouldn't have much time to enjoy this show. Truly, it had been a while since her last "encounter", and even though she had her own means of pleasure between lovers, that just couldn't compare to what Qrow had to work with.

However, he wasn't quite awake yet. Maybe she could startle him for a cheap laugh. Tiptoeing around the couch, she crouched by his side, leaned over, and positioned her face so that it was a mere centimetre away from the tenting in his shorts and plastered a smirk on her face. And waited.

There was a deep breath in from him while he tried to get comfortable. Seemed he wasn't quite awake – more trying not to be. He shifted his legs on the couch back and forth to get to a better position, which, to Winter's guilty delight, made the large presence bob with its movements. What a shame it would be when it would have to go away.

Of course, by this point she was unable to completely ignore his scent. It hadn't been readily apparent when first coming to hover over him, but now that she had been stationed there for a minute… she couldn’t suppress her excitement at being close to him while aroused, even in a half-awake state. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips before she could stop it, and then she inwardly cursed herself for such silliness. Nothing was going to happen. She was simply playing a very mild prank on her sleeping in-law.

Finally, the eyes were starting to flicker. And he slowly found them beginning to open. At first, he was staring up at the ceiling, so saw nothing of her at all. That was until he began to look down.

By that point, she was leaning closer still. Her cheek came into contact with the cotton material, and she suppressed a shiver as she gazed up at him through her eyelashes. At least she was still smirking.

"Morning."

Blinking rapidly, he tried to make sure he wasn't seeing things, or imagining things. But he felt it! Felt her cheek against him! Opening his eyes once more, he looked straight at her, mouth dropping open very slightly.

"Y'know…" he began. He never once seemed upset or disgusted by that behaviour. Just surprised. "Think I could call this sexual harassment if I wanted to."

"Only if you protest." She leaned closer, and though she had already been inwardly shocked at her own behaviour, now a voice in the back of her head was screaming as she felt true pressure in return; she was literally leaning against his erection! This drunkard who acted like a cocky asshole all night long! Had she lost her mind? "Do you? Protest, I mean."

"…Am I dreaming still?" But he really could feel her face against him, especially when it twitched again. He had abandoned any hope that anything close to this would happen, yet Winter was now making the first move. But he did want it to continue, so he played along.

"Protest?" he asked, running a hand through his hair to 'neaten' it again. “Guy would have to be crazy with you that close to protest.”

A powerful need swelled up in her. One too long suppressed. As she bit her lip, watching very carefully how he reacted, she began to raise her hand up to lay on a bare stretch of his thigh, slowly dragging it upward.

She really wasn't fooling around. She wanted this – wanted him. Did that really come down to a simple case of morning wood in the end? Was she that impressed with what she saw? Delicately humming at the gentle touches, he half closed his eyes when looking back to her.

"Seriously though, why keep going here when I could bend you over the kitchen counter?"

Well that certainly shot heat straight to her core. Now she had to ask, even if only once. As her hand began to tease him very lightly through the fabric, only just touching without wrapping around the girth truly, she whispered, "This isn't too strange? Me doing this, and considering your offer… even though we basically just met?"

Qrow was still questioning if he was dreaming or not. The hand was definitely there, he could feel it caressing him still even now. Still, he looked toward her, tilting his head. "Ain't got a clue why you'd wanna with a lowlife like me, but I sure as hell ain't turning it down if you do."

"Mmm…" The groan was low and sensual, purely designed to tease. "Perhaps I don't. Perhaps I just want to tease a little. Are… you alright with that?"

But even as she asked this question, Winter performed a move she had perfected over the years. Fingers moving nimbly, she tugged the fabric down and to one side slightly, moving it in just the right way that she caught the flap in the front of his boxers around the head of his erection, then pulled inward so that it slid through into the open air.

Another contented humming filled the air when his member was exposed. She must have had practice if she was able to pull that off so quickly. Just what did this Schnee chick get up to in her spare time? he wondered. And from that, he also began to wonder what she could do for him. Finally he looked back with a smirk, giving a small wink. "Oh, I am more than interested."

That little was all she needed to lean over and press her lips up against the hot flesh. Ohhh, it had been too long for her. The scent rolling down from the head was just right; thick and sharp without overpowering. Her stomach rumbled, and she realised it wanted breakfast… but she was just going to have to settle for something else to tide her over.

Such were her thoughts as she leaned up and accepted him into her mouth.

"Oooohhhh…" How long had this been? Long enough for him to have forgotten what it felt like to have a woman's lips around him. Warm wetness encircling his member, dragging itself down every now and again with gentle movements of the tongue. Winter Schnee must have had a lot of practice to pull this off without a single hitch. But it still made no sense why on earth someone so gorgeous and refined as her would be so insistent on pleasuring him first, especially when she could probably demand he do this to her first and he would oblige.

Little did he know that she grown to love pleasuring men. Loved the many sensations; sights, sounds, smells… tastes. She didn't always care for the men themselves, but that was of little importance. Not when she could get her fix and then discard them as easily as they discarded her.

As her lips began to make their way down his shaft, tongue laving over him all the while, her hand released and moved to his thigh again. Inch by inch, it slid up the inside of his shorts, teasing the skin there as effectively as her mouth teased the main attraction. He was finding it more difficult to keep himself composed. Moaning and panting in front of a woman was definitely not what he planned on doing first thing in the morning. With his magazine, perhaps; not with a guest. But that's what he was reduced to. A moaning mess that was relaxing further into the sensation of getting 'the full service'.

"Geez, Winter," he managed to groan between gasps. "I think this more or less… makes up for all them gutterballs."

At that, she laughed briefly as she raised her head up, allowing him to bounce from her mouth. "Really? You have a problem with how I handle balls?" And the instant she asked, her hand swiftly ran up and cupped his, fingertips expertly fondling without causing the slightest pain or discomfort.

"HAH!" That should have been expected. Especially when her hand had already been so close! The mouth was familiar territory, but treatment as good as this… did he ever have this? He didn’t believe so. It felt oddly relaxing to have such a delicate part of him caressed and fondled; doubling up with the now cold air on his wet member, it was an interesting sensation. Growling with delight, he leant his head back against the chair, smirking to himself again.

"You wanna be careful. Treat me too good and this old soldier might not make it to the kitchen."

That prompted an earnest chuckle from her; she appreciated a man who could be so brutally honest. Nodding, she licked him again and asked in as sultry a voice as she could manage, "You really want to sink this deep into me, don't you?" Another lick, a kiss. "Do you have… the proper precautions for that?"

That brought a growl out from him when he grinned back down toward her. A woman who knew how to handle him well, and wasn't afraid to remind him to keep things safe. How much luckier could he get? Still, he nodded to her question, head tilting in the direction of his discarded pants on the ground. "Always got a couple in my wallet, in case I get lucky. Think I hit the jackpot."

"Good." Then she gave the sack a light squeeze before she withdrew, standing up. "I'll go get ready to receive, while you get ready to give. Um… do you want me all the way stripped, or… do you prefer taking care of that yourself? I don't mind either way."

Sitting himself back up again, he leaned down to grab his pants from the floor, patting them to find the pocket and said wallet. At the question, he couldn't help but laugh lightly. "Been too long since I done anything, toots. I think after that, you can call the shots. I'll do it however you want me to do it."

Again, she was impressed against her own will. He was nailing every single response, even though she had almost been hoping he didn't so she could have an excuse to back out, or to challenge him further. How was this scruffy-looking man doing so well? It was as infuriating as it was…

Arousing. Without even checking, she already knew she was beginning to dampen her underwear. Licking her lips and clearing her throat, she traced a hand through his already-tousled hair as she walked past.

"I'll get ready the way I want to get ready, then. Meet you there."

"Try and stop me."

The entire exchange was beyond anything he'd experienced before. There were one night stands, fuck buddies, the occasional girlfriend; nothing like this. Nothing like a woman who knew exactly how to handle him, where to put her tongue, how to talk to him. And on top of that, she was beautiful and had a fantastic body to match. Maybe this was a dream, an elaborate one he'd wake from in a few hours and wonder what an earth had happened. But dream or not, he was determined to enjoy it.

Such determination had him frantically pulling the wallet from his pocket, opening and taking one of the small packets which he opened it with his teeth. He was so very eager to begin. Once the small ring was free, it didn't take much longer for him to press it against his member, pulling the latex covering all the way down the thick length until he was ready. Once that step was complete, he hauled himself to his feet and made his way to the kitchen to see just how Winter had prepared herself.

The sight he met when he got in there was like something out of a dream, or a movie. Winter was already leaning over the counter – not braced for him to enter, but simply leaning as if she had been thinking about something while sipping from the water glass between her fingers. The only noticeable conspicuous change was that her slacks were missing; panties still in place, in their black satin glory, but otherwise her bare legs were on display from hip to heel.

"So that's how you wanna play it. Never expected you to be the ‘trophy wife fantasy’ type of girl." It looked bizarre, him stood in the doorway with a sheathed, rock hard erection, her so casual against his counter. Still, he had reason for all the questions. After so long and so many partners, one would lose their interest in maintaining appearances. Might as well get the important things out of the way.

Such as… "Any other requests?"

"Just one." Looking over her shoulder at him briefly, eyes flicking down to what he was about to bring closer, she smirked as she whispered, "Don't disappoint me. But I have a feeling I don't have to worry about that."

Eyebrows raising up then down, he finally approached his lover for the morning. Hands falling to her hips with a slight slap, he stared down at her plump ass. How truly lucky he was to get to experience this fine figure of a woman for the day.

"Let's just take care of this here…" One hand left her hip to quickly reach down, tugging her underwear to one side and tucking it by her lips out of the way. But it didn't leave just yet. He took a moment to simply dip a finger into the slick folds, feeling around their softness for a while to gather his bearings.

Seemed she really was eager to go. The moans that were falling from her open mouth were very slight; this was a woman who knew how to control herself. Allowing herself to enjoy his teasing touch was a decision, not something beyond her ability to suppress. Her thighs drifted very slightly apart.

"So, want me to charge in here? You're ready for it." He noted that as he leant in toward her, pressing his bare front against her back to whisper, "Or do you want some more heating up first?"

"Wh-whatever you want, Rooster. Just… make the moment count."

What he wanted. That's what she said, for him to do as he pleased. Maybe she really did want him to treat her in a way that optimised his pleasure, no matter the circumstances. If that was the case, this really must be a dream. But a dream that he would make the most of; no point in letting the condom go to waste. He took the hand away from her folds, and instead reached down for his member instead. Pressing up against her, he began to guide himself toward the welcoming entrance, gradually pushing forward once he was lined up until he felt the head slide in.

"What I want," he began, immediately moving the hand that was his guide to her back instead, where it grasped a handful of her shirt. And then used that to yank her back against him when he slid forward, pushing all the way inside in one go. "Is you on my cock!"

"UhnnnhhHAHH!" Winter wailed, taken completely unawares by the sudden rough treatment. Of course, he was not the first to go from gentle to brutish in such a short span, but this was the first time it had happened without her requesting it beforehand. Still, it was nothing too far, nothing that would hurt her or made her feel anxious – and she had said he could do whatever he wanted.

Quite the opposite, in fact. Her eyes slid closed as she got past the initial sensation of being claimed, and began to simply enjoy the girth squeezed inside of her. It was every bit as huge as she had observed, felt inside of her mouth. And she loved it. Oh, how perfect he felt nestled there!

Meanwhile, Qrow was pleasantly surprised. He had expected her to perhaps brace up, or even quite loudly tell him off. But no such response. She seemed to only relax herself further, even part her legs that bit further for him. He really must be dreaming, this was everything he desired!

To make the moment count, he continued the rough pace. Hand continuing to yank her back onto him, the other hand also on her hip to aid that process, he began to push his member in and out of her at a quick pace. His breath got heavier and heavier each time his member pushed deep into the warmth of her tight body, truly giving them both a morning to remember.

And her own breath was growing more ragged as she felt him riding her harder, skipping straight to the dirtiest manoeuvres. Seemed they had both been waiting awhile for a good solid fuck.

"Ohhh, yeah," she moaned out as he thudded into her, raising one calf briefly before it fell down again, straining to keep herself at the proper angle for him. Tall though they both were, the counter was just slightly too high! Not that she minded working around that slight obstacle.

"Lemme get that for you…" The least he could do was move his hand from her hip, using that hold under her knee and lift her leg upward to the position she desired. It made no difference to him; he was still going to keep the pace fast and hard into her. Only he suspected doing this deed for her would help her feel more of the benefit. Maybe it would even hit that special place of hers.

"That's right, you cock!" she growled throatily, just beginning to push her hips back to meet his very slightly. By and large, it wasn't necessary. Winter began to release her hold on her voice slightly. Of course she had been holding back. No man got to hear Winter completely unfettered their first dance. But she could let more slip through, let him have a very slight taste of how she could be when she went all out. "You… you take what you want from me!"

This was crazy! She was actually pushing herself backward, meeting his rough thrusts with her own each time, making it even harder and more brutal. She really did know her stuff, and really must have been craving this just as much as him to be getting into it this hard. But just how hard did she want him to go? He was already lifting her leg, and pumping in and out, quick and unforgiving. Could he take it further?

Deciding to risk it, he took his hand off her hip a moment, raising it back only to bring it down onto her backside with a firm SLAP!

"OHHH!" she half-shouted, pitching forward very slightly. Not enough to take him out of her entirely, but it did interrupt her own thrusting rhythm. Now that she hadn't been expecting. The way he had been riding her hard and fast had lured her into thinking he would merely continue that until he burst. Which she was fine with. Where had the spanking come from?

But she wanted to find out how he meant it. Some men just liked to swat a few times as they rode their conquests, merely for the sight of the rippling flesh. Others did it for separate reasons.

"Yeah, that's right," she panted, voice more strained, less self-assured. "Y-you… you want me to be your dirty girl, don't you?"

Growling out his next few breaths, such words were only egging him on further. She really did like being handled roughly. Maybe she would even he interested in his more twisted desires that he generally kept to himself. Not that he'd been able to test that before – not to the full extent he wanted to. But that he refused to let himself think about. Not yet. This was a single fast and brutal fuck in the span of twenty-four hours; there wasn't even a guarantee it would be anything more than that.

For now, he made do with what he had, bringing his hand back to slap her backside once again – only this time, he kept his grip on the fleshy cheek, grasping firmly as he used that in addition to yanking her back on him with his shirt. Anything to make it harder.

"Fuck yes, I do," he growled, somehow managing to lean forward. "And you… you just want me to use you, huh? You… like being my dirty slut, don’t you?"

Winter's mouth dropped wide open. For some reason, even with her flinging such dirty talk back at him, she had not anticipated that he would respond. Not this quickly, and not almost exactly as her deepest, darkest heart wished for him to. However… that did not mean she had no response of her own.

"Fuck yeah. I am a dirty slut. Use me, fill me up!" She sucked in a breath at a particularly hard thrust, then uttered, "Harder! Make me really feel it when you claim me!"

From his position behind, he couldn't feel the constant changes of expression in her face. The words were all he had to go on, and those words were telling him to go harder. So he would oblige. Finally grasping as hard as he could, he thrust very harshly against her. Hard and fast. Every time his hips collided with her backside, there was a rather audible slap that echoed through the apartment. In addition to the low toned moaning he was finally allowing himself, anyone could tell just what they were doing. Probably even the neighbours would have something to say.

But it wouldn't last too much longer. He could feel his cock beginning to twitch and throb. Not that he let it affect the pace yet. "You ready?" he shakily asked. "R-Ready to… be a good little cumslut?"

That was a word, among a few other choice selections, that she had very secretly been hoping he might use, but didn't dare anticipate. "Cumslut." Instantly, she could feel both her face and her sex heating up, driven further by that one simple word. Her voice climbed higher in pitch once she finally responded.

"YES! Make me your dirty cumslut, do it! Fuck me!"

The positive attitude toward such a harsh word, the efforts she was making to throw herself back against him, were finally too much, and really was a dream come true as he found his end. Quivering, he grunted outward rather loudly as he delivered a few more firm thrusts inside, feeling his member throb hard and harshly. Thankfully, the latex covering was enough to prevent anything ending up inside of her. And from how pent up he was, that could be for the best – else he may well have ended up 'filling her up' as she requested.

Even after he was done, he left himself inside longer, shoved right up against the counter as his hand still held that cheek tightly. He was still going to 'claim' her, right up until she got her end too.

"Yeah! Yes, I f-feel you filling me! Yeah, it's- nnhhAAAHH!"

It had been a while for Winter since she last enjoyed an internal orgasm. Partly because most men she slept with weren't capable of the raw force and finesse combined that were required, and partly because on her own, she usually opted for "flicking the bean", as it was known casually. But somehow, Qrow managed that. He filled her so well that she came.

He felt every last twitch inside. Every single vibration her legs made, and even a slight throbbing of her own against his member. She really had been waiting a long time for someone do this to her. And do it this hard. Just as much as he'd been waiting, it seemed. Part of him was wondering if to do it again. He was more than pent up enough to go for a second round in a few short minutes. Maybe she'd like that. For now, however, he pressed his bare front against her back again, slowly lowering her leg again.

"That what you were after, Snowbird?"

Shivering, Winter allowed herself to lie on the counter, catching her breath. Then she whispered, "Ohhh… yes, that… hit the spot…" Swallowing, she managed to drag the glass of water closer from where she had laid it aside, but couldn't tip it or push up to drink from it, so it merely sat there, mocking her by being out of reach.

"And you know what would hit the spot for me?" he whispered into her ear between his own raspy breaths, beginning to ease his hips slowly backward. It almost seemed as though he was about to thrust forward again, keep going once more. But that small hope seemed to fade when he slipped out completely, standing back upright to pat her back. "Some bacon and eggs."

"Sounds good to me, too. Where are we going?" Reaching back, she finally nipped the crotch of her underwear to the side and covered her still-soaking petals. After the sudden workout, she was beginning to recover her wind now.

"Well, I'm going to the bathroom." He was already at the other side of the room when he finished that sentence, taking off the covering to throw it into the trash. Looking back toward her as he tucked his slowly softening length away, he smirked. "The dirty girl makes the eggs and bacon, right? You seem to like that role."

“E-excuse me?!” “Hop to it, hotness.” Then he swatted her on the ass before heading for the door.

Winter simply watched him leave to wash up, a curious look on her face. The dynamic was shifting, mutating into something new. Even before it had a chance to be something old. Smiling a private, scheming smile, she turned toward the refrigerator to see if he even had bacon and eggs in the first place.

[k-fiction-therapy]

Cure for Lethargy

Moodboard by Admin Scar

Starring: Do Kyungsoo (D.O) & Oh Sehun [SeSoo/HunSoo/EXO]

Includes: Cute Kisses, Confident Gayness & Fluff

Rating: PG-13

~*.*..*All I wanted was to see you smile. That’s it. Such a cute thing.*..*.*~

A/N: I have a love for the HunSoo ship because it plays a lot on some of my favorite things about couple dynamics. Size difference and personality contrast--those are abundant in this ship in the most beautiful of ways. Sehun is so much bigger than Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo is much more reserved than Sehun. It’s a perfect match. In my mind, though I know everyone thinks differently, I see Kyungsoo as the top. I love the idea of him having to maneuver around that tall body just to fuck him right. Oof. Anywhoo~ Enjoy this fic, which is to exemplify a perfect portion of Sehun being the confident, loving boyfriend he is. 

Musical Inspiration: Smile - McFly 

Asks Open for Feedback, Comments, Kudos and Thoughs. <3

             It was not uncommon, in the middle of an interview, for Kyungsoo to look bored and or in the midst of plotting the death of everyone involved. Today, however, he seemed even more deadpan than usual, which generally meant that he had something on his mind. It never seemed to be too much for Kyungsoo to handle, but that didn’t stop the other members from asking him how he was; or from trying to make him feel better.

              Fiddling with his hands, Kyungsoo hoped that none of them noticed. They had all worked together for so long that it was like a sixth sense, and part of him knew that. One of them was bound to notice. Honestly, it was only stress, and if Kyungsoo had to pinpoint exactly what moment caused him to feel it, he would be unable to. Being an idol, stress was a given if not a staple of daily life. It was always around them, swarming like flies that no hand was fast enough to swat.

              The other members were mostly transfixed on the MC, who was a pretty woman in her early thirties with long hair and a nice figure, but Kyungsoo was too distracted to notice that she was anything more than just another person. He didn’t answer any questions, remaining as quiet as possible, his expression barely changing as they moved from the interview stage to the backroom where they were allowed to change into comfortable traveling clothes and rid themselves of makeup if they chose to.

              Passing by the other boys, Kyungsoo downed a bottle of water before tossing the plastic of it into a waste bin nearby. He rubbed at a temple and headed towards the backroom, passing an open door, into which he was pulled by his free hand. The only light in the room was from the streetlights and the moon outside the window, and as the door was closed, Kyungsoo found himself staring at the eyes of a wolf, soft features, and pretty lips in the dim light of the room.

              “Sehun, what are you—”

              Just as Kyungsoo tried to speak, his words were cut off with the planting of plump lips against his hand, Sehun’s hand still holding it. Blushing, thanking the cosmos that it was dark in that room, his eyes widened and he swallowed, his lips peeling open to speak, but no words came out. He merely just stared as Sehun pressed his lips to each knuckle individually, smiling against honey colored skin that tasted very similarly.

              Kyungsoo didn’t protest as Sehun kissed up his arm and towards his shoulder, feeling the need to move away from the contact. Lethargy was something Kyungsoo felt often, especially when he was stressed out, and this time was no different. He wanted to be alone, but the more those lips met his skin, the more he felt inclined to stay put, something about them keeping him grounded.

              “Kyungsoo…” Sehun whispered, “You seemed upset in the interview. What’s wrong?” His words came between kisses as he walked the shorter male back and towards the wall, leaning over him so he could continue to kiss all of that shoulder and arm that he could reach.

              “Really, Sehun, I’m fine. I j-just get down sometimes. It’s fine.” Kyungsoo said, his words escaping in the oddest little croak that surprised even him. They had never done anything like this. Sure, Sehun was one to linger during hugs or tease whenever he got the chance, but this was different—this was intimate.

              “You’re a liar.” Sehun smirked and his lips hit Kyungsoo’s neck, just grazing. The sound that left the shorter male was odd, almost feline, and Sehun only smiled wider. Peppering those kisses up to Kyungsoo’s jaw, Sehun seemed pleased with himself, “You should be happy. I want you to be happy.” Lips nestled just under an earlobe, Sehun pushed a hand between them to take Kyungsoo’s own, bringing it forward a bit, holding it around the wrist.

              “I’m not lying, Seh. I’ll be fine.” Exhaling, Kyungsoo felt stunned and glued to the spot, not sure what he was feeling, though his groin seemed to have its mind made up. Sehun pulled back to look Kyungsoo in the eyes, his Cheshire grin turning into something all the more sweet and playful as he tipped his head forward, kissing all over Kyungsoo’s face, paying special attention to his cheekbones and temples.

              “S-stop!” Kyungsoo found himself giggling and then laughing, the kisses light as butterfly wings, his fingers winding in the hold that hand had on his wrist. He wiggled a bit against the wall, his plump lips curling into a happy, blissful smile, the tickle of it all making him look unburdened and sweet.

              Sehun was happy to hear those laughs, and he could feel that smile in his chest, making it swell. He pulled back again, this time to admire Kyungsoo’s expression, “There. That’s all I wanted. To see you smile.” Pressing forward slowly, their lips met, but the depth of it didn’t read as playful in the slightest. When Sehun disconnected, Kyungsoo felt short of breath and struck to the abdomen.

              Sehun looked more than pleased with himself and he took a step back, pulling Kyungsoo by the hand deeper into the heart of the room, biting his lip. Using his foot to push a small stepping stool towards the shorter male, he pulled him into a second kiss, rendering him helpless to the shooting pleasure those lips made him feel. Sehun’s pupils dilated and when their lips left one another again, he brought the bottom tier into his teeth, looking Kyungsoo over. Sehun knew just how to put a lasting smile on that beautiful face.

              “Now, fuck me, Kyungsoo. Right here.”

              “What?!”

Admin Death

[racetrackhiggins]

hehe my partner @alkimara​ said it was okey to post this so here is an excerpt from our newsies modern college dorm au in which Blink (me) proposes to Mush (them)

for context sake, i also play race, race is dating jack, crutchie, and davey in a poly relationship, and the PDAP means PDA police

ship: blush obvi word count: 3343 warnings: tooth rotting fluff and gross lovey dovey gayness

Having some free time, Blink and Mush were cuddled together on the couch, watching some show they'd done the "down six and hit play" Netflix method to find. It was about wedding planning, going through the ins and outs of it in an almost documentary way, even though it was reality tv going through the different aspects.

Blink had his head leaned on Mush, the curtains drawn so that he could have his patch off without any trouble. "Man, I don't get why'd you want all this fancy shit at your wedding anyways. What's wrong with a simple wedding that's about the two of you loving each other, not showing off?"

"I dunno," Mush hummed, "Sometimes it's just nice to have a celebration, but even this is getting to be a bit much. Maybe like. A decorated house? Throwing a party in a house? 'Cause going somewhere is expensive." He was leaning back on Blink, looking relaxed and snuggled.

“Well, see, I could get behind going somewhere nice. Like Italy, it’s real nice there. We find a nice villa to rent out in the countryside, have a small but fun wedding with just our families and the Newsies, honeymoon in Venice, I think that sounds like the perfect plan,” Blink said, not yet realizing the CONNOTATIONS of what he’d just said.

Mush smiled a little, "Yeah. Save most of the money for the honeymoon~." He snickered, "Then I can finally understand the words you say when you get stuck on Italian."

“Actually...” Blink looked at him. “My grandma lives in this beautiful fuckin wine orchard outside of Tuscany, I’ve only been like three times but I remember how pretty it was. Maybe we could-“ he blinked. Oh. He looked away, thinking for a moment as if having a realization. Which he was. He wanted to marry this boy.

"Go visit her? Stay with her?" Mush looked over, curious, not really processing what was happening. Then again, he usually wasn't, nowadays.

“Y-yeah.” Blink looked at him, a bit of a certain but unplaceable look in his eyes. “I think you’d like it there.”

Mush smiled a little, "I think I'd love visiting there the first time with my husband." He giggled a little, shifting to lay more on Blink. Oh man, he really thought that was impossible, huh? No way Blink would marry him. But it was fun to think about.

Well. Blink was. Okay. He looked back at the tv, but he wasn’t really watching it anymore. He had... a lot to think about. Mainly... when and how he’d ask him.

Mush hummed. Blink would never marry him. They loved each other, but Mush was... Mush. Blink would find someone else soon- honestly, Mush was surprised his good luck had lasted this long. Recently he'd felt just... Happy. He'd reasoned that everything was kind of fake, in a twisted sense, so much so that he'd just accepted everything. And he seemed happier when he let that anxiety go. And if Blink did marry him? He'd probably be shocked and realize that this was real. But the mere idea of that seemed... Foreign. They'd never be married. He turned back to the TV, sighing and letting it steal his full attention.

—-

Blink had the ring. He’d gone with Jack, who acted as a second opinion and a hype man. He’d had it engraved with Blush and a dumb cutesie blushing emoticon cause he thought Mush would think it was cute. It felt like a ten ton weight in his jacket pocket.

“Hey, wanna go down to the diner? I’m feelin’ in the mood for a shake,” he suggested when Mush got home from class.

Mush looked up, glancing at the clock. He shrugged, putting his bag down, "Yeah, why not?" He grabbed his wallet and key out of paranoia in case they got separated, putting them in his pockets and smiling a bit at Blink.

Blink hoped Mush didn’t realize how fast his heart was beating as they headed down, wiping his hand on his pants before taking Mush’s and hoping he didn’t realize how fidgety they were.

Mush had noticed. He was already preparing himself for the worst. This was the end of the dream, Blink was going to dump him. He had accepted this long ago. It still hurt his chest a little as he intertwined their fingers, walking with Blink to the diner.

Calm down. Calm down. The worst thing that happens is he says is no. Or thinks that I’m fucking insane and leaves me... CALM DOWN. Blink thought to himself. 

Blink was thankful for the street around them being too loud and busy to talk cause he’d probably die if he had to do small talk right now. He just kept close to Mush, opening the door for him. There were only a couple people in the diner, and they quickly got seated, Blink went ahead and ordered for them. Okay. Okay. He smiled softly at Mush, fuck he didn’t know how to start this.

Mush hummed as they sat down, looking at Blink. He shifted, "Everything okay?" Please don't let the dream end, not like this, I don't think I can take it, He thought.

“Yeah, I’ve just had some things on my mind lately,” Blink said, biting his lip gently, finding he couldn’t look at him for a moment. “I just... I really love you, you know? And I’ve been thinking a lot the last couple weeks about our relationship and stuff and-“ he cleared his throat, shifting a little in his seat. “Would you let me love you forever?”

Mush blinked. Uh. What. "Y-Yeah... I would..." He said, looking confused. "I love you, too, Lou... What's going on?" He was extremely confused. That wasn't a break-up. Was this him dying? Heaven?

“I wanna go ahead and be clear that we’d wait until after you graduated,” Blink said, standing up and moving to the other side of the table to be beside Mush, taking his hand. He took a deep breath, fidgeting with something in his pocket. “But I can’t wait that long to ask...” he looked at Mush, taking it out of his pocket, taking his hand away from Mush’s to open the little velvet box as he kneeled on one knee. “Nicolas Mush Meyers, would you marry me?” He held his breath, looking up at him.

Mush blinked. And he... Blinked. "Y..." He just... Stared, and he felt himself tearing up, and he was going to explode, and his heart was going to break. "Y... You want t-to marry....?" He was crying now, a hand moving to cover his mouth. This... This was real. This had to be real. He couldn't live with himself if this wasn't. He felt a sob leave him, "You really- you love me that much-? You're not-?" He looked in pure disbelief, before he scrambled out of the seat, hugging Blink tightly and kissing him, sobbing while he did so. "Louis Baletti, Y-Yes," He managed through his sobs, nodding and hugging him close. "O-Oh my G-God, this- this is real- y-you-" He was crying, he was broken down completely. He couldn't stop smiling. He couldn't stop smiling. "I love y-you," He cried, giving Blink his hand.

Blink hugged him back tightly, relief washing over him, and such a radiating happiness he wasn't sure he could actually handle it. He could barely hear the light claps from the patrons, the more enthusiastic ones from the servers as he slid the ring onto Mush's finger, bringing it up to kiss it before kissing Mush so happily, he didn't care who saw it.

Mush was bawling like a baby, kissing Blink fiercely, unable to stop crying. "You really love me," He mumbled, as if it was punching him in the chest, "I love you so much- you love me. I-" Another wave of tears hit him as he hugged Blink tightly.

"I love you so much, Nick, and I am going to love you until my dying breath, I fucking promise you that," Blink whispered into his ear, hugging him back just as tightly. "I love you, I love you, I love you so much," he couldn't stop saying.

Mush was whimpering, and he moved to kiss him again and again, "I love you, Lou. Louis, my Louis, my own Blink..." He sniffled, realizing... They were in public. And then he went bright red, trying to stop the tears. He'd probably be crying again later.

Blink looked at him, and oh, those were tears. He pressed his hand to Mush's cheek, biting his lip and just... breaking back into a smile like he couldn't believe it. Right... public. He nudged Mush to sit, and scooted in beside him because he was physically incapable of detaching himself to sit back across from him.

Mush was snuggling into Blink's side easily, moving to hold Blink's hand tightly. He intertwined their fingers, bringing their hand up and looking at the ring. Oh God. It had an emoji and their ship name. Oh God. He was crying again, "It's so cute... I love it. I love you." He moved to kiss Blink softly.

"Shut up, it was Jack's idea," Blink murmured, said ship name on his face. It was Not.

"I will not shut up, I'm going back and showing this to literally every Newsie. It's beautiful. I love you," Mush hummed, sniffling and trying to stop crying again. He brought their hands up, kissing the ring, then kissing Blink's hand.

Blink smiled, looking at him so softly.

The server came back with their shake and their food, whispering an excited, "Congratulations!" before going off to let them have their moment.

Blink looked at Mush, an idea in his head of how to announce this. "Hey, hold up the shake for a selfie," he said, taking out his phone. "In a totally casual, not-showing-off-a-new-ring way."

Mush giggled a little, "Hold on..." He rubbed at his eyes, sniffling, and nodded, moving to pick up the shake, angling the ring towards the phone, and smiling way too brightly to just be happy about the shake.

Blink took the selfie, a bright grin on his own face, then another kissing him softly. He leaned against Mush as he looked at them. "I can put it up, yeah?"

"Yeah," Mush said softly, nuzzling into Blink before sipping the shake through a straw. He took the second draw out, because damn it they could share. They were gonna be married.

Gettin shakes with the boo (also, he said yes).  Blink posted it, and as soon as he put his phone down on the table it started ringing. It was Race?

"Hello?" he asked, picking it up.

"BIIITTCHCCHH WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE GETTING MARRIED YOU JUST MADE ME START CRYING IN PUBLIC I'M SUING YOU!!!" Race's voice shouted through the phone, loud enough that Mush could probably hear it too.

"The actual wedding-" oh my god, wedding- "wouldn't be until after Mush graduated, but yup, he accepted," Blink said happily, glancing at Mush with a smile.

Mush was blushing and beaming, going into the phone, "Hi, Race!!!" He was just smiling and nuzzling Blink, seriously trying to process this.

"Hello to you too, you married ass motherfucker, I don't care you aren't married yet, you've practically been married this whole time anyways," Race said, actually sounding like he was about to cry out of happiness for them.

Blink giggled, "Did you see what was engraved on the ring?"

"No? One sec-" Race said, a moment of silence before- "OOOHHHH MY GOODDDDDD!"

Mush was laughing, hugging Blink's arm and just snuggling him, giggling at Race. "Don't get jealous, Race, you got three boys to pick from. Prolly should work out a ring of proposals," He laughed.

"We'll hafta rock, paper, scissors for it probably," Race joked, sniffing. "Okay I'll let you enjoy your date now, fucking congrats dudes."

"Thanks, Racer," Blink said, and Race hung up a moment later with a bye.

"Thanks~," Mush hummed, smiling a little when he hang up the phone. He looked at Blink with a soft look, kissing the other again happily.

"I love you~" Blink said happily, so lost on this fucking moment. "You are the best boyfr-" he blinked. "You're not my boyfriend anymore," he said, a smile of disbelief on his face. "You're my fiancé."

Oh. Mush swallowed back another round of tears, nodding with a smile, "Y-Yeah, yeah..." He was so fucking happy, "I love you so much."

"I can't wait til the day someone says something to you and I can go all John Mulaney on them and shout 'That's my husband!'," Blink said, holding Mush's face. "Fiancé... husband... those are some big words, aren't they?"

"Fiancé..." Mush said softly, looking at Blink with the most loving expression ever, "Husband... Technically has more letters." He laughed a little, and- FUCK THERE WENT ANOTHER TEAR. Mush took a shaking breath, wiping his face. "I'm going to be crying about this for weeks," He muttered.

"Can't I just skip to calling you my husband? It'll be so long to wait," Blink said, looking at him so tenderly, reaching up and brushing away another tear.

Mush let out a shaking laugh, nodding. "Yeah, if I can call you my h-husba-band t-too- oh n-no," He had to duck his head, crying again. "I never- I never woulda thought- that someone- someone would l-love me- that much-"

Blink pulled Mush into his arms, laying Mush's head against his chest while hugging around him, his hand tangling in his hair. "I love you so much, and I'm so, so lucky to be able to call you mine."

Were you trying to get him to stop, or cry harder? Because now he was crying harder. He nuzzled into him, actually shaking a little, trying to force himself to calm down. He settled down after like, two minutes, taking soft, tired breaths. He sniffled, going for the shake again to take a sip, offering it to Blink. "I'm luckier to call you m-mine," Mush said softly, unable to stop smiling.

Blink just held him close, pressing soft kisses into his hair until he calmed down. Blink smiled and took a sip of the shake, then he kissed him softly.

Mush hummed in the kiss, kissing Blink again before shifting to cuddle into Blink again. He was just... so happy, he could barely process anything else.

"You know what, fuck it, lets take the rest of this to go and go back home to cuddle," Blink said with a small laugh.

"Agreed," Mush hummed, feeling like he wanted to curl into Blink and never let go.

Blink all but carried him back to the Lodge after he paid, PDAP be damned, he was floating on a goddamn cloud, he couldn't care less about the people who looked at them.

Once they were in their bedroom, he pulled Mush down onto the bed with a kiss.

Mush sighed happily in the kiss, pressing closer and nuzzling into him, "I love you~ I love you so much~." He was almost singing, and maybe that's how you could tell that Mush had never been happier in his whole life.

"You are so damn precious," Blink murmured, tangling himself around Mush, pressing kisses all over his face. Now that they had their privacy, he was gonna show him all the affection he'd been holding out (which was surprisingly a lot considering how lovey he'd been at the diner).

Mush giggled, humming with every kiss, returning as many as he could, just snuggling into him. "Me? Precious? I'm just a Mushy~," He beamed.

"You're my precious~" Blink said in a half hearted attempt at a Gollum impression, looking at Mush's cute ass face before kissing him a little softer, a little deeper.

Mushy snorted softly, giggling in the kiss. "I'm all yours, Lou," He hummed happily, leaning into another kiss.

"And it's a lifetime guarantee now~ You're stuck with me," Blink grinned. He'd be content to have quiet moments just kissing Mush until his heart was that too for the rest of time.

"Good," Mush hummed happily, nuzzling into him, "There's no one I'd rather be stuck with."

"Sei bloccato con me a fare questo in modo casuale per agitare anche te," Blink said with a bit of an impish smile, taking off his patch and laying it beside them.

*(You're stuck with me doing this randomly to fluster you too)

Mush just became a puddle of goo, beaming and kissing Blink again before cupping his face, moving to appreciate the lack of eyepatch. He loved seeing Blink's face without it more than anything, and he just had the most loving look on his face.

"Sei un omosessuale," Blink snorted softly, beaming back at him.

*(You are a homosexual/You're gay)

"Sounds like homosexual," Mush giggled, kissing him again, "I am very gay. I'm also just appreciating how cute you are and how much I love you~."

"Funny story, I was just sat doin' the same thing~" Blink grinned, kissing him again because he simply couldn't help it.

"D'aw," Mush mumbled, blushing and kissing Blink. He really couldn't stop as he started peppering kisses all over Blink, cuddling closer, absolutely giddy. "I can't remember the last time I was this happy," Mush hummed, "Not to say I'm sad. Just that. You've really made me the happiest person in the world, Blink."

"You've done the same... You'd changed me, Mush. Ya made me a mush, hell, I thought weddings were overrated and kinda dumb before I imagined having one with you, and then suddenly it was all I could think about, and the idea of us having our own place, just the two of us, maybe getting a pet or two and treating them like our kids and being that gross lovey married couple..." Blink sighed dramatically as if to prove his point. "See? Now I'm the mush."

Mush was blushing more and more. "Blink... You literally saved me from myself," He said softly, holding Blink's face still with both hands. "I thought everything with you was a dream. I was still scared you'd leave me. And then you pulled out a ring- I thought you were going to break up with me for a second there. You... You really opened my eyes that there's so much in this world," He said softly. He smiled a little, "Who says we have to have just pets like kids? Wouldn't you want a little boy or girl of our own? Us as parents, being that gross lovey married couple... Following our dreams..." Oh, well, there he goes again with the tearing up. "I think I'm still the original Mush."

"Oh, come on, we gotta give it at least a couple years or else everyone's gonna make fun of us for settling down so quick," Blink said, but he couldn't stop smiling. "I'd want a little girl, a little baby girl," he admitted softly after a moment.

Mush nodded in agreement, humming. He nuzzled Blink, "I'd like that a lot. Our own little girl." He was smiling softly, just imagining them running around with a kid.

"I could teach her Italian, I'd teach her how to dance, she could stand on my feet as I taught her the waltz in the living room," Blink said, pretending he wasn't tearing up as he quickly swiped across his face.

"We gotta stop, that's years ahead and we both know we're gonna get impatient again," Mush said weakly, looking at the ring as evidence.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Blink muttered, wiping his eyes, still thinking about this hypothetical daughter.

Mush moved to kiss Blink's eyes gently, wiping off the tears with his thumb. He cuddled closer to him, just nuzzling into his chest now. "I love you..." He hummed softly.

Blink sighed softly, holding him close. "I love you too, more than words could ever tell..."

"'I love you' works just fine," Mush hummed with a smile, nuzzling closer, "'Cause you don't need any other words. I got a ring now to prove it."

"Mhm. And now everyone in the world will know that you have my heart," Blink murmured, letting his eyes close to enjoy the warmth and affection.

"And you have mine," Mush mumbled in a dreamy voice, drifting off a little.

Blink leaned down and pressed a kiss into Mush's hair, but he didn't lean back up, simply staying nuzzled in his hair.

[earthbovndmisfit]

Title: 8 pm. Pairing: You know it, my guys. It’s jonawagon!!

Notes: A little something I made using the Pride Prompts from @cutequeerpositivity (thank you for sharing these with all of us!!). The prompt for the first day is (was?) First Kiss, so, a bit late as usual, but here it is! Hope you guys like it!

Warnings: None. Just some fluffy gaye stuff under the cut. Read More is only for length reasons.

7:50 p.m.

Ten minutes early. A bit of a feat for someone like Speedwagon. Punctuality wasn’t precisely his forté, and he was aware of it. This time, however, he did everything in his power to prevent that from getting in his way, and there was a sole reason why:

He was going to see Jonathan again tonight.

They had agreed to go for a couple drinks. A celebration of sorts. They hadn’t had the chance to have one since they had come back from their mission to defeat Dio days ago. With all the injuries and the psychological baggage too fresh still, they had decided then the best option was to wait a little and heal some first before they could think of doing anything else, and the time was just about to come. Of course, they kept seeing each other through the course of those days. It wasn’t like either would stop caring and wondering how the other was doing, but tonight was going to be slightly different from these past days.

“Robert!” He heard a voice calling his name not too far from where he stood. That unmistakable voice… He didn’t even need to see the tall figure to know who it belonged to.

“Mister Joestar! Good evenin’.” The ex-thug greeted, removing his hat for a moment, out of respect towards the gentleman.

“You don’t have to continue addressing me like that, you know that? After all the things we’ve been through together?” The taller man’s words were gentle, matching his smile. “Please, call me Jojo, or Jonathan. Either are okay, I promise.”

“Got it, Mister–, uh, I mean, Jojo.” The blond laughed, a bit embarrassed at himself before he picked up where he left off. “So, how are you feelin’ tonigh’?”

“A lot better. I don’t feel that much pain anymore. It’s astounding what Hamon can do.”

“Lucky you. I gotta deal with it the traditional way.”

“Is pain giving you trouble still?” A silent nod from Robert came as an answer to his query. “Well, there’s a healing technique Mister Zeppeli taught me. It consists on using the ripple to heal other people. I still got to work on it a little more, but it’s proving to be effective so far! Maybe I could try it on you to help you a bit, if you’re okay with it?” Jonathan said, patting the other man’s shoulder, to which Robert flinched slightly. A mix of already existing pain in his body and Jonathan’s hands being too heavy. It didn’t help that the younger sometimes didn’t truly realize just how strong he actually was… “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Speedwagon laughed, finding Jojo’s ashamed face to be quite endearing. “I’ve been through much worse than this, and I certainly don’t wanna cause you any trouble either.”

“It won’t be a problem at all. It’ll be my pleasure.” He reassured, to which the blond nodded, unable to turn down his kind offer.

“Alright. If you insist. Jus’ please, let’s not get my diaphragm into this…” A pretty obvious joke that Jonathan picked up immediately as both men laughed.

“Understood. So, shall we get going?”

“Yeah. The less crowded the bar is when we get there, the better.” They started walking down the street, making some small talk every now and then as they walked past some shops on their way to their destination. “Jojo.” Speedwagon called at some point, just a couple blocks away from the bar.

“What is it?”

“Your tie. It’s a mess.” How could Robert miss that until now? Hard to tell.

“Hm?” Jonathan hummed, a bit confused at first before he looked down, only to confirm what his friend had just informed him of. “Oh! Yeah, I… I always have a bit of trouble with ties…” He admitted, embarrassment written all over his face. After all, people in a position like his were expected to have that sort of small details under control. Anything else was unacceptable. He didn’t even want to wonder what his father would have said had he witnessed that…

“They can be a pain sometimes, but it’s jus’ a matter of trial and error most of times. ‘ere, let me help you.” He said as they both stopped, stepping closer to the wall of a shop so these two large men wouldn’t be standing in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking the way for everyone else out there. It was not like there were a lot of people out that night, but still, it wouldn't be polite to do otherwise.

Speedwagon began to undo Jojo’s blue silken ascot, straightening the fine fabric in his hands so he could work best with it and give it a more proper look than getting it all tied but wrinkled up. Once that part of the task was done, he began to tie the ascot, keeping in mind not to tie it too tight. Unfortunately for Robert, being shorter than Jonathan, and having to look up at him, gave him the perfect angle for his eyes to begin to wander a little further up. Brown hues were suddenly fixed on those full lips before him and the way they moved. They seemed so soft, yet so firm. Robert was completely lost into them when he realized Jonathan had been speaking all this time. Unable to get an answer from him, he called his name, which served to drag him back to the real world; a shade of red across Speedwagon’s face. Luckily for the former thug, the dim light from the lamps on the street did an excellent job at keeping it a secret from Jonathan.

“Robert?”

“Ah… yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely. I was jus’… Sorry, I got a bit distracted. What were you sayin’ again?”

“It’s nothing big. I was just asking where did you learn to tie a tie?”

“Oh…” And here he realized he’d just made yet another mess of Jonathan’s ascot while lost in his own mind. He began to undo his mess, trying to attract as little attention to it as he could. “I learned years ago, from a friend I ‘aven’t seen in ages, back when I first started wearin’ suits. He taught me the basics, since his father worked as a tailor for an upper class family, so he knew a thing or two on the matter.”

“A tailor… Seems like an interesting job.”

“I guess so, but I’ve heard it requires a lot of talent and skills t’become a successful one. Else you’ll be up t’the neck in debt for all the masters’ fabrics you’ve screwed up.” He added as he was done straightening the tie once more.

“Well, I guess that’s true, too…” Jojo replied and both chuckled a bit. Silence then took over. A comfortable one. However, Robert still couldn’t keep his gaze away from those lips that had caught his eye so fiercely. He had somehow managed not to make yet another mess of the poor ascot, though. He was in the middle of his task when his gaze went up a little further for no particular reason. His heart nearly stopped the moment his eyes met Jonathan’s. Just how long had he been looking at him? Had he noticed him staring, dumbfounded, at his mouth? God… It was so embarrassing…

However…

…what happened then took the blond completely off guard at first. Jonathan’s larger palms went to rest on Robert’s waist; the taller man leaned forward, meeting Speedwagon halfway as the latter gently pulled him a little closer to him by his tie. One pair of lips finding the other, pressed softly one against the other in a chaste touch that came straight from their hearts in what some would call the heat of the moment. They both slipped their eyes closed for as long as that moment lasted, enjoying the tender caress, not really thinking about the consequences or anything else. Right now, there were just the two of them, and nothing else mattered.

Both then pulled away, slowly; their gazes finding each others’ as they did.

“I… I’m sorry, Jojo, I… I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright, Robert.” Jonathan’s palms still on the other man’s waist as he went on, knowingly, “I wanted it, too.”

[andhumanslovedstories]

What I’ve Read (Books 1-6)

in the name of 1) public accountability to actually read 150 books in 2017 and 2) to remember what the hell I read, I’m recapping/reviewing the books I finish.

The Paying Guests, Sarah Waters

Circle of Magic: Sandry’s Book, Tamora Pierce

Circle of Magic: Daja’s Book, Tamora Pierce

Flawed, Cecelia Ahern

The Treasure Map of Boys, E. Lockhart

Real Live Boyfriends, E. Lockhart 

Fiction: The Paying Guests, by Sarah Waters (1/02/2017)

Waters was on my radar for years (which is the cultured way of saying, “In high I used to watch clips of kissing scenes from her tv adaptations to Feel Things”) but I didn’t read her until last year. I expected an eat-your-vegetables-this-is-good-for-you type of literature with beautiful prose and a turgid plot where women exchange meaningful glances of a love they dare not speak, for they’ve only heard gayness whispered about if they’ve heard anything at all. Instead, I got hardcore bonetown. I got high drama, intrigue, suspense, communities of openly queer women in historical time periods, and just. so. much. boning. the. hell. down. The Paying Guests continues the trend of baroque drama lesbians, this time in the 1920s when a genteel but newly poor mother and her spinster daughter must take in a young couple as lodgers. I’d recommend Tipping the Velvet as your intro to Waters’ wet and wild work, but The Paying Guests is a solid romance turned crime novel, as Frances and Lillian fall in love and struggle against Victorian, Edwardian, and Jazz Age expectations of what a women should be. Also murder. They struggle against some murder too, which does cut into the deeply literary boning. 

Fiction: Circle of Magic: Sandry’s Book and Circle of Magic: Daja’s Books, by Tamora Pierce (1/04, 1/10)

Are there cliques in the Tamora Pierce fandom? Are there Tortall versus Circle of Magic kids? If there aren’t, let’s start them now, because I was always a Tortall kid. (Except Daine, who I never like. Sorry, Daine. It’s nothing personal, mostly because I can’t remember why.) But I did read the Circle of Magic books, specifically because in eighth grade someone told me there was a gay romance in The Will of the Empress, a later book in the universe. (Me reading over this post so far: “I did not realize the extent to which I was always super gay.”) Since I’ve decided I want to reread Empress, I’ve likewise decided to haphazardly reread the earlier books as well. In December of last year I read Tris’s Book, the second in the series. This January, I read Sandry (book one) and Daja (book three).

Sandry’s Book unfortunately isn’t a strong start to the series. The necessary assembling of all the characters lasts the first half of the book, the magic feels likewise over introduced and underdeveloped, and Sandry has little emphasis in the book named after her. I wish I could talk more in detail about this book, but looking back on it from two months later, I can’t remember much of anything except Sandry’s introduction (locked in a tower while everyone around her dies of illness, which is one of those backstories my disclaimer-adult-ass-in-no-way-the-intended-audience-age self thinks is wasted on junior fiction when you can hardly linger on the horror; maybe the YA The Circle Opens series deals more with that).

Daja’s Book improves the series thus far, mostly thanks to Daja. She’s always been my favorite of the original circle, a reserved, strong, hardworking grieving girl with metal and fire magic, who is excommunicated and shunned by her people who consider her bad luck after she is the sole survivor of her family’s shipwreck. She’s also black. Did I mention she is black? Because the book does, a lot, a weird amount, in places you really wouldn’t think it was necessary. Like, “‘Let’s talk about magic,’ said the black girl whose name we definitely know.” But that dubious choice aside (and I don’t remember it being present in later books in the series I’ve read), everything about Daja is my favorite part of this first series. Daja mourns the loss of her family through disaster and the loss of her people through custom while building a new family with her fellow mages and trying to reconcile that she would not be able to do the work she loves, blacksmithing, if she hadn’t been cast out.

If you’re interested in the characters (who are very good, they do develop well) or the magic (which I came to love, and felt organic and unique thanks to a combination of Pierce’s emphasis on hard, unglamorous labor as the basis of her heroes’ lives and the elemental astral projection that the mages do in this world), and if you, like me, don’t enjoy junior fiction, I’d recommend starting with The Circle Opens series instead. The books in this universe are connected but standalone, and it’s easy to jump in wherever. (I’m still gonna read somewhat in order before I get to The Will of the Empress, though. It’s who I am.)

  Fiction: Flawed, by Cecelia Ahern (1/13)

There are books that, before I returned them to the library, I want to slap a sticker on the front that says, “Warning: this book is fine but it is also secretly the first book in a series. Beware the ending.” The most recent such book, Flawed, is a YA dystopia where separate from the legal court is the Flawed court, which with absolute power can judge you defective as a person. Once deemed Flawed, you are branded in a symbolically suitable location as befits your crime, publically shamed, unable to assemble with other Flawed in large groups, shunned, hated, subject to a curfew, subject to constant surveillance, forever. Celestine North, who was named by her parents with the knowledge she would be the hero of a YA dystopian novel, dates the son of the court’s high judge and supports the system unquestioningly until she sees a Flawed man dying on the bus in front of her with no one willing to help. Her intercession sends her to the Flawed court herself, and gets her in a girl on fire situation as she inadvertently becomes the figurehead of a revolution much bigger and older than her. With Flawed as the first book in the series, its limited viewpoint feels myopic, determined to keep Celestine’s point of view relatively narrow. She suffers thoroughly and compellingly throughout the book, but when it ended on a cliffhanger, I couldn’t see myself waiting eagerly to see what happened next.  

Plus, the book has an unfortunate case of YA Bad Boy Syndrome, i.e. there is a troubled, scowling teenage boy who dominates a disproportionate amount of narrative focus as compared to his narrative interest. In contrast, the most compelling relationship in the book, that of Celestine who always supported the system until she saw evidence of its abuse and her sister who rails against the system but stays quiet in the face of the same abuse that makes Celestine act, is introduced as a central element and then gets minimal page time. Kill your darlings, authors. Cut the bad boys.

Fiction: The Treasure Map of Boys and Real Live Boyfriends, by E. Lockhart (1/12, 1/13)

E. Lockhart writes the most exquisitely uncomfortable YA. When I read Dramarama—a title, by the way, I only picked up because I already trusted the author—I spent so much time wincing that it read the book twice as slow as normal because not only did I recognize the characters, I both didn’t like them and utterly understood them. It was agony, but very specific “creative kids from a small town who go to a theater camp, discover they might have been friends by default, discover they might not be as talented as they think, discover that everything good changes and there’s nothing you can do about it” kind of way. The Ruby Oliver books (of which The Treasure Map of Boys and Real Live Boyfriends are books three and four) are similarly specific in their discomfort, except the discomfort lasts for four books instead of one.

I say discomfort instead of something like awkward because awkward implies a kind of charm, and while plenty of the characters in the books are charming and the writing is charming and many of the ideas are charming (too charming even, occasionally bordering twee), the situations of the books aren’t charming. They just kinda suck. These books aren’t a slog through misery and woe, not by a long shot, but they offer few if any pat resolutions. The characters hurt each other on accident and on purpose, and while some get better and trying not to, they don’t stop. Friendships end and it’s kinda everyone’s fault. Relationships are continually undercut by flaws that never go away, or even get addressed. Ruby is accused by her former best friend of trying to steal her boyfriend (who used to be Ruby’s boyfriend) and Ruby didn’t try to except she sorta did, or she at least wanted to, or she flirted back with him when she knew he was dating someone else, or the whole idea of “stealing” someone is ridiculous because you can’t steal a person, except Ruby’s best friend did kinda steal Ruby’s boyfriend. Even when characters are in the right, they don’t always act their best. Ruby never gets the apologies I spent the books hoping she’d get, and she never changes in the ways I hoped she’d change. But she is in a better place when the books end than when they began, and she is a better person too. It’s just that she still kinda sucks sometimes, and so does everyone around her. 

While I struggled now and then with the preciousness of the writing style, the characters provoked a satisfying frustration that made me read all four books in two weeks. If you’ve never read anything by E. Lockhart, I’d recommend The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks as your first, since it’s got a complete story in one book as opposed to the Ruby Oliver books which are more episodic, but this is a satisfying series if you’re looking for slice of life, low plot, nuanced relationship explorations that are zippy as hell to read.