#cl fans turn away please

[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY GALANTINE’S SHANA

I would love some Momma Hera or anything MDZS. THANK YOU. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

 Xichen isn't in his room.

"Told you," Wei Wuxian says. "Bet you a bottle of wine he's in Da-ge's."

"Do I look like a fool to you?" Nie Huaisang demands.

Wei Wuxian whistles. "We'd need a lot more alcohol and maybe a flow chart to answer that question."

Nie Huaisang hits him with his fan.

Lan Wangji takes a deep, calming breath. There are plenty of reasonable explanations for why his brother is out of his room after curfew that don’t involve Nie Mingjue.

He can’t think of any, currently, but that’s because the two of them slap fighting each other behind him.

“Enough,” he snaps. He can’t turn them over to the one duty senior disciple because they’re clan heirs and any punishment could have political implications, which means Xichen or Uncle need to be the ones to issue them. But Xichen isn’t here and Uncle won’t be pleased to be woken up over a couple tardy disciples. The issue of the wards is concerning, but they’d been back in place when he’d gone to check, and there’s no real reason it can’t wait to morning. “Go to your dormitory. I’ll report your actions to my uncle in the morning.”

Xichen would have been more lenient, but he thinks they could benefit from a strict punishment.

“Why don’t you escort us there?” Wei Wuxian asks with a smile that makes Lan Wangji want to lean away from him or maybe lean cl – no, definitely away. “This place is so big. You don’t want me getting lost, do you?”

The paths are rather easy to follow, even at night. They hadn’t seemed to have any trouble getting here in the first place.

Nie Huaisang retches. “Seriously? First Da-ge and now you? What is it about the Lans?” He pauses, looking Lan Wangji up and down in a way that he’s not totally certain he’s comfortable with. “Okay, I mean, I suppose I see the appeal, but still.”

Wei Wuxian reaches out to punch Nie Huaisang in the side without looking at him. “Shut up.”

“Maybe we should get more alcohol,” he continues, not listening. “I think I’m going to need it.”

Lan Wangji leaves them still bickering.

~

The next morning Nie Huaisang wails all throughout his punishment. It’s not even that bad – he doesn’t even have to do a handstand, just copy rules of punctuality and prohibition.

Wei Wuxian, on account of meddling with the wards (Xichen had been impressed but Uncle hadn’t been), has to a handstand for several hours in the courtyard.

Doing it shirtless seems unnecessary.

Winking at him every time he walks by also seems unnecessary.

“Wow,” Xichen says, the time he’s unfortunately there to witness this behavior. “Are you sure he’s adopted?”

“Shut up,” Nie Mingjue grumbles.

Xichen listens about as well as Nie Huaisang had. Lan Wangji can’t mind, because he shouldn’t be saying that to him anyway. “Because I remember you at a certain age-”

Nie Mingjue draws his sword and Xichen is laughing as he mirrors him, the two of the sparring across the courtyard.

Lan Wangji is glad that Xichen has a friend.

He just wishes him visiting wasn’t necessitated by Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang making a mess of everything as quickly as possible.

[sundew199]

Be Good for me

a/n: ok so I'm not 100% sure how I feel about this, like I think I did it right for what 'power play' is but this is my first time writing it. Anyway if it's ass, my bad 💀

tags: zoro x f!reader, power play, switch!roronoa zoro (kinda?), zoro is mean, reader is mean back, cum eating, face sitting, choking !everything is consensual!

Kinktober day two: power play

minors DNI!!!

Roronoa Zoro was mean when he fucked. Not an ounce of niceness ran through his blood when he was balls deep in your pussy, adamant about burning off excess adrenaline from a battle or rigorous training session.

He wasn't always like this when you fucked, very toned down in the beginning, unsure of how you'd like to be handled when scratching a certain itch from being out at sea from days on end. The day you told him to be rougher and not hold back like you knew he was, everything unleashed.

Zoro always made sure at the start that you were okay with it and not having a problem with toning things down. You always said you were sure, needing that tight hand around your throat as his hips snapped into yours. The low growl of his voice in your ear when you'd clench around him, following through with all his commands and letting him hold all the power over you.

All of it was exhilarating. Being so powerless underneath him, physically or metaphorically, gave you a certain high no other drink of substance could ever take you. And never once had you questioned what it would be like if you were mean back, challenged his commands with ones of your own, until tonight.

Down on your knees in front of him, shiny tip of his cock pressed to your lips, looking up at a satisfied man who'd just been sucked dry. He had that look of victory and lust in his one silver eye, so pleased with your complacency and how you listened. Your mind swirled with your potential next move, depending on what he did next, ready to see if he'd take a liking to the challenge you had ready to present.

"Come take a seat." He gruffed, sitting on the bed, reclining into the headboard with one hand lazily stroking his still erect cock.

"No."

His hand stopped, squeezing the base out of surprise for the defiance on your end, wondering what had happened for you to not immediately jump onto the bed and sink yourself down on his dick.

"No?" Sounding annoyed and stern, but allowing concern to flash in his eye as he met yours, searching to see if he had maybe gone too far this time.

Rising to stand and climb onto the bed, you removed his hand from around his dick, flinging it away and grasping his face in your hands and digging your fingers into his cheeks.

"I'd rather sit somewhere else." Letting a chuckle slip through your lips, removing your hand and pushing Zoro down by the shoulders, till he was nearly lying flat on the bed. You shuffled forward until your knees were inches from the sides of his head.

"Not an option doll," Beginning to sit back up to man handle you till you submitted like he wanted, but you caught the knowing look and felt a small relief come over you that he understood the little game you started. A little power struggle was the perfect way to change things up in the bedroom, and you were thankful Zoro was open to it.

Before he sat up to grab your hips, you swiftly moved to hold him still with your knees pressed into his forearms. Zoro groaned a little painfully, not bothering to struggle knowing you would just put more weight down.

"I want to cum somewhere other than you cock and your face just looks so rideable baby, indulge me."

The innontation in your tone turned seductive and vixen, like this were a natural state for you, as well as for Zoro who looked all but surprised and turned on.

"Be good for me." Tucking and releasing your bottom lip with your teeth, keeping your knees on his forearms and lowering down closer to his face until his warm breath fanned over your slick folds. He all but willingly craned his neck to give himself a better angle the closer your cunt got to his mouth, suddenly salivating and needing to devour your pussy.

Fully seated on his face, you let out a high pitched breathy moan, appreciating the vibrations from his groan as you met his mouth. Zoro's tongue flattened to part your folds, clenching and unclenching his fists with each slow lap, drinking your arousal like the finest sake in the world. His one silver eye flitted up to look at you between your legs, narrowing with mischief and he lightly swirled the tip of his tongue on your clit. You cursed under your breath, gripping the thick green mop of hair and holding him back, knowing the trick he was trying to pull.

"Making me cum early means you won't cum."

He wiggled his head away just enough to retort back at you. "Yeah we'll fucking see about that woman." Wasting no time and diving back into your cunt, sucking and slurping obnoxiously. Your legs shook beside his head, the pressure you had from your weight on his forearms wavered, but didn't break as you weren't ready to for him to have the advantage over you again.

Pulling back on his hair again after he focused on only sucking on your swollen clit, you kept his head where it was and moved to grind up and down on his tongue that was lolled out of his mouth comically. Zoro let you do as you pleased, chuckling as he kept his mouth open and tongue out, watching you slowly fall apart above him.

Using this to his advantage, Zoro slipped one his arms out from beneath your knee, smacking his palm harshly across your ass and kneading the flesh, but not making any move to flip you onto your back, instead helping you move your hips back and forth.

"Not helping your case here by doing that." Rasping out as you gave him a small break, letting him lick his lips clean like your pussy dripped sake. He hummed deep in his chest, turning it into a laugh as he trailed the hand up from your hip to pinch your nipple.

"Like that fucking phases me, I'll have you writhing and screaming my name here in a second, but I'll be courteous and let you cum before that."

Irritation flashed across your face at the boldness, though deep down you were basking in the push and pull between the two of you, the fight for who would dominate the other in the end. And though you knew there was a slim chance that it would be you, didn't discourage you from continuing.

"Yeah? And what if I want it the other way around?" Moving away from his face and letting a hand creep up to his throat, resting at the base of his neck.

"I think even you would prefer me fucking you dumb on my cock to where the only thing you can say is my name, let my cum leak and drip down from that perfect pussy of yours." Smuggly grinning, making no moves to stop your hand from wrapping all the way around his throat and squeezing.

"Zoro, Zoro, Zoro," Cooing as your brushed your throbbing and slick folds over the head of his cock, feeling the part and his breath hitch underneath your palm. "So bold even when you're the one under me, at my mercy."

Giving him no time to respond and slamming yourself all the way down, trying to keep the contortion of your face at a minimum as his eye rolled back and his jaw slacked, taking in a shaky breath. With one knee still pinning him down at the forearm, managing to partially immobilize him, you moved your hips in a perfect circle on his cock, moaning so prettily into his ear and tracing the outer shell with the tip of your tongue, something he would do to you when he'd first slam his cock into you.

"Your mercy? Give me a break." Biting back a groan as you came half way off, letting just the girthy tip fuck in and out of your while squeezing your walls tightly.

"Mhm, better get used to it, cause I'm enjoying how this is playing out so far." Pecking his cheek and keeping your lips pressed there as you softly bounced up and down half way on his cock. Zoro's other free hand didn't even bother to grip or dig into your flesh, doing that to the comforter he lay on top of while inhaling deep shaky breaths, fighting the restriction of your hand still around his throat.

Every time his hips jerked, you stopped, chuckled a bit evilly and gave him a mocking kiss on his lips or the corner of his mouth. Then you'd wait a minute, holding still before slamming all the way down, raising your hips until only about half of his dick was inside of you to start bouncing again. It was driving him insane, gritting his teeth and having a look akin to murder every time you'd meet his eye. Fuck this was so fun, understanding the kick Zoro got out of it when it was the other way around.

"Okay I get it, ride me properly now." Saying after endless repetition on your end, his tone low and husky, like how he sounds when talking to Sanji after he's pissed him off for good.

Sliding your hand upwards on his throat until you were right under his jawline, you gave him a mockingly pitiful look, moving your hips high enough until just the very tip was inside you. This was probably how he felt when he did something similar to you while under him, and you instantly understood why he enjoyed the dramatic power differences between you and him while fucking.

"I'm in charge, and I'll do as I please." slipping your tongue between parted lips as you laughed, molding them to zoro's even though he kept them tightly sealed. Oh he was irritated, and fuck that turned you on more than him submitting willingly. This was fun, exhilarating even, how had you not thought of doing this before?"

"I'm about to ruin this for the both of us if you don't ride my fucking dick-"

Cutting him off by slapping a hand over his mouth, the other tightened even further around his throat, restricting his breathing and making his eye pop open wide, realizing you had more will to keep control than he was expecting.

"Since I didn't get to cum all over your face like I wanted, you'll just have to make me cum once I'm done fucking myself on you." Giving him a little grace and easing more of his cock back inside you slowly, getting inches from his face and chuckling under your breath. "And if you cum before I'm done, well."

Leaving the sentence unfinished as you sat up and sunk yourself down all the way, rocking your hips forwards and letting it prod and poke at your cervix, pushing itself out to be seen in your lower stomach. Zoro hadn't said anything since you removed your hand from his mouth and throat, literally at a loss for words and trying to combat the rocking of your hips. He groaned softly though, let his free hand not pinned to the bed by your knee stroke up your thigh.

Though he didn't look as irritated as he did a second ago, you still drank in that baffled turned on expression of his as you bent back on your palms placed on his thighs to rise and fall on his cock, giving him a glimpse of the milky sheen coating his shaft. He sucked a sharp breath in every time your hips went up, catching a glimpse of your pussy hugging tightly around the thick cock.

God you could get used to this, having your way with him and also taking your time. He listened well once you asserted yourself over him, so good for you when he wanted to be.

"I wanna hear you Zoro, need to know how good this pussy feels around you." Gasping out, letting your head fall back in bliss. Without saying a word, you moved your knee off of his forearm, letting his hands come to rest on your hips and just leaving them there as you moved up and down.

"Feels so good baby," Whispering back, letting his fingers knead the flesh of your hips in time with your down thrusts, trying not to grip to hard and fuck back up into you and lose his chance at an orgasm.

The ache in your legs grew strong and more noticeable but not wanting to stop in hopes that Zoro would cum inside you like you wanted. So you pushed through the ache in your joints, moved your hips faster and eventually brought yourself back to hovering over him. Poor Zoro looks so gone, breathing heavily with beads of sweat running down from his hairline, brows so pinched together he looked like he were in pain trying to stave off his orgasm.

"Cum inside me." Requesting sternly but with a small conniving smile, pushing your thumb past his lips and pressing down on his tongue.

His eye narrowed, biting down on your thumb but then proceeding to suck, emphasizing the way he moaned knowing it would run through you like electricity, snapping his hips upwards as you were caught off guard. You allowed it, taking note of the frantic unrhythmic thrusts coming from him, knowing he were trying to reach that sweet release.

"I'll fucking get you back for this," Growling in between pants, slapping your ass particularly hard, the sting cascading throughout your flesh. "And when you least expect it too, fuck you even dumber than I normally do."

"Stop fucking talking and cum in me so I can sit on your face and cum in your mouth." Unsure of where the irritation in your tone came from, instinctively grabbing his face in one hand again, digging your nails even harder into his cheeks. Zoro let out something like a growl, slamming you down one last time and shooting ropes deep inside you. He refused to moan aloud, stifling them all with each spurt inside of you, prompting you laugh in a mocking way, pulling off of his dick before he finished cumming and shoving him down onto the mattress.

Without saying a word, you swung your legs on either side of his head and hovered above his face, his hands reaching up to hold your thighs for when you eventually sat directly over his mouth. Something in his eye told you he was excited, antsy to have your pussy leaking his cum land on his mouth.

The groan the man let out below you was almost enough to make you cum right then and there, but doing just enough to hold off. Zoro's tongue flattened to part your messy folds, lapping up the cum dripping into his mouth. He didn't care that it was his own, in fact it was getting him hard all over again. There wasn't even a point for him to try and figure out why this was so erotic for him, it was just so messy and filthy and he didn't want to stop.

"Ride my face, please-"

His request was so muffled behind your cunt, but you heard him and slowly rocked your hips, leaning over to hang onto the headboard, watching his jaw move with how he clenched and devoured you from below. You could see how lost he was, how much he was enjoying it and you were so so close, just needing that final push to send you over the edge.

"Shit - don't stop Zoro, keep going, you're being so fucking good for me-"

Barely able to speak but finding the words to praise him, get him to send you over the edge in a mind blowing orgasm. He growled into your folds, inhaling deeply and adjusting to close his lips around your throbbing clit, moaning deeply and enough for it to vibrate off your sensitive flesh, just waiting to drown in your release.

A hand of yours buried into his hair, pushing his head deeper into your cunt, chewing on your bottom lip as the precipice comes just within reach, whining his name and gripping tightly onto his hair and cumming right over his mouth.

Zoro's grip he had on your hips eased as your hips came to a stop, taking a moment to catch your breath and fall back into the bed once you were moved away from his face. Neither of you said much to the other, coming down from a weird new adrenaline you were experiencing from the change in power dynamics. You felt so accomplished for sticking to it and keeping Zoro in his place until the very end, discovering something new about yourself in the process.

You like the push and pull. Like challenging him and having things go exactly your way. But you also like the way he didn't just take, challenging you back and trying to regain the comfortable dominance he usually held when the two of you fucked.

"God damn woman, can't fuckin' move." Letting his words carry in his breath, looking over at him as he spoke, relaxed and fucked out simultaneously.

"Not complaining are you?" Crawling over to him, laying a bit lopsided, resting a hand on his sweaty chest as well as your chin. His lips curled softly into a smile, huffing out a laugh and giving a tiny shake of his head.

"Nah, just wasn't really expecting that?"

"Neither was I, but something just told me to push my luck and force you into submission."

" 'Forcing me into submission' , give me a break, I let you." Zoro rolled his eyes endearingly, landing a hand on the center of your back, lightly running his nails across your skin.

"I'm too tired to argue with you." Sighing as your cheek pressed right where your hand was on his chest, forcing your body to curl into him, ignoring the screams of your aching muscles.

[kryptznnn]

♛- PLAY-HARD V (17+ Warning! Sexual Themes)

1st part/ 2nd part/ 3rd part/ 4th part/ 5th (Final) part 🔞

Series Masterlist ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

➸ INTERESTS; - olo'eyktan!jake x fem!omatikayan reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - working alongside Mo’at has helped you and your family in various ways, as a way to repay her for your free working she pairs you along side Toruk Makto to aid him in small departments he needs assistance in, but more importantly to find a Tsahik suitable for the Olo'eyktan, but he isn't always cooperative. Thankfully things have turned out for the better, Jake and you being close, but what does that mean for the future of the omatikayan people, or better yet; the future of your relationship?

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 2.9k slight age gap (25 & 21), takes place after the great war, slow burn, just pure smut, fingering, nipple play, cl!t play, p in v, overstimulation, missionary, power imbalance, soft!dom, fem!receiving, male!receiving, orgasm, orgasm denial, mentions of masturbation, biting, marking, bond. lmk if i missed anything. 🔞🔞 NOT PROOF READ BTW??

➸a.i; - last chapter of the series!! i hope you all enjoy, thank u for all the love and support:( they’ll be more to come!! just stay tuned, also sorry ts took so long a lot is happening rn.🕷️ -kree

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*navi translation will be provided*

You slowly exhaled, removing your kuru from the branches of the tree, watching the tendrils of it dance down. Turning your face to see Jake already having his eyes on you, startled you looked back to the branches of the tree almost immediately, your cheeks heating up slightly.

“It helped didn’t it?” He asked softly, you could practically feel his breath on the back of you neck, the subtle soft sounds coming from the mossy floor and he stepped behind you didn’t further help your case. You only hummed in response and nodded, continuing to play with the beautiful branches that danced along your skin, liking the glow it gave you. “I brought you here to calm your nerves, but you seem more tense than ever, what’s the matter pretty?” Jake asked, now slowly collecting the hair that had splayed all across your back and placing it all over your right shoulder. Your left shoulder vacant as he began to place soft kisses against it, trailing up to your jawline, wrapping his hands around your waist. You stopped for a moment, your breath faltering as you quickly took a deep breath and exhaled to stabilize it, obviously not working for your breath or heart, becoming even more flustered as you heard Jake chuckle into your skin taking in your expression.

“Jake please, I.. I’m-“

“C’mon you can tell me, talk t’me” He muttered, his breath fanning against the back of you neck, making you shudder in his arms slightly, now resting your back against his broad chest. “Making me feel hot” You mumbled, you could feel him smile against your skin as he now placed his head to the side of yours, brining it down slowly to your ear. “Feelin’ hot? Yeah? Can you show me where?” He whispered, placing his larger hand in yours, in a sense of him asking you to guide him. You slowly dragged his hand from your chest down past your stomach, then even lower, quickly hovering over your loincloth, crossing your legs and clenching, of course around nothing, but the pleasure enough to make you moan.

Still, he continued to chuckle at you, understanding exactly what you were saying and feeling, but just did it to tease. He eventually sat you down onto the mossy floor for your comfort, but not without kissing you over a dozen times until your saliva was exchanged, the stream sliding down and sticking to his chin, which he quickly wiped away.

“Wanna make you feel good, gonna let me do that kid?” He asked, his hands still roaming your body slowly, voice drowsed in lust, you nodded softly. You weren’t sure if you should’ve been more embarrassed or more aroused by his actions, but the way he treated you in this very moment made you melt, literally. “Want you to say it.” He demanded, pausing all movements and looking you dead in your eyes. “I want you to make me feel good, please.” You say with a shy voice, earning a coy smirk from Jake, as he began peppering kissed onto your face, then jawline and lower to your collarbone, groaning as he felt your hands roaming around him.

Slowly, but eagerly untied both sides of your loincloth, whispering sweet delights into your ear waiting to see your reaction. Your tight grasp onto his forearm and slight moans gave him the motive to move even faster, kissing you passionately. All kisses he gave you, you immediately returned, mumbling lewd phrases to him in which he returned the energy, telling you how he has you to himself, no more distractions for either of you and how happy that made him, how happy you made him, watching you blush at his words and play with his hair, one hand cupping his face as the other goes behind your back, un-tying your top and letting it drag down slowly. Jake just followed the motion of your top with his eyes, quickly flicking his eyes back up when you mentioned that your eyes were up here.

He gave you a full smile, quickly flashing his fangs and licking them softly. His hands trailing from your hips up to your breasts, kneading them softly as he kissed you again. Then trailing his kisses yet again back down past your collarbone and to your breasts, licking them softly before placing your nipple in his mouth. His ears perking quickly as if they were almost flapping when hearing your moans, and your hands grasping the back of his head, grasping at his hair.

Jake keeps a hand pressed behind your back as the other one went between your legs, toying with you and teasing you about how wet you were, to which you gripped his hair harder, cursing him slightly to which he just chucked at you. The vibrations and hot breath fanning your nipples making you jump slightly, moaning aloud to his amusement.

He soon glided his tongue down, hovering just over your pelvis, his fingers toying with your clit then slipping them inside you. You just watched him, not wanting to move a muscle and let him fufill his promise, he looked up at you, kissing your pelvis then moving lower, his breath fanning your clit to which you moaned, placing a hand on your breast as you back arched slightly, telling him to stop teasing you as he just laughed, kissing your clit.

He ushered for you to relax multiple times as you quickly began asking what it was that he was doing, reassuring you it was something he’s done before and it was an “earth custom”. You took his word for it, as he said he would be able to make you feel so good by doing it, but the way he described it was amusing

almost. “eating out” was the term, definitely something you haven’t heard of, not being a na’vi term for any of the clans on Pandora. Well maybe for some, but most definitely not the omatikayan clan, and surprisingly Jake was going to teach it to you today.

He made you lay on your back in an instant, a small curve of the grass elevating your head slightly as you watched him. He seemed to enjoy what he was doing, and you could feel it. The way he would moan into your cunt and practically claim every inch of it as his was killing you, he toyed with you for a bit, giving your clit kitten licks as he pushed his large alien fingers deeper inside you just to see how far they could go, and when he could feel the tips of his fingers brushing against your sweet spot he’d curl them upwards, earning a shocking moan from you as you jolted up, now making direct eye contact with him. Jake just watched you in awe, the tension and pressure being too much for him as his erection practically ripped out of his loincloth, your moans and coos weren’t helping him either, to take the workload off by helping himself of course being able to multitask so easily.

Honestly if anyone else was here at the tree of souls you couldn’t feel bad for them, you wish you could but at the same time you could care less, you’ve been dying to get to this moment and absolutely nothing was going to stop that.

Jake continued his assault, now sucking on your clit and taking his time to move his tongue downwards towards where is fingers were, then back up again, his groans and curses causing your toes to curl slightly as you mumbled his name repeatedly, feeling dizzy as you let him continue, urging him to go faster as you pushed his head slightly. “Feels tha- fuck, feels that good pretty?” He asked, his face hot and his hair a mess as he looked up at you, his fingers still bruising your cervix. Honestly the sight alone could kill you, what he was doing, what he was saying, the way he was looking at you and giving you constant reassurance was making you weak, either that or the fact that you felt a familiar tightening feeling coming from your lower belly, biting your lip frantically you nodded. “Mhmmm so, so, good” You muttered quickly, moaning afterwards, feeling the wave become even tighter in your abdomen and closing your legs with Jake between them, he quickly spread your thighs apart, one hand pushing one apart while the other one moved even faster inside you. “You close? Yeah I can tell your close, but you gotta let me finish, wanna make you cum” He hummed sweetly, placing a kiss on your pelvis and inner thighs as he rested his head on them softly, taking in your facial expressions deeply. He watched the way your eyes shut tight as you continued to mutter his name, practically hearing his fingers slide in and out of you at a perfect pace and dug your fingers deeper in the mossy floor beneath you as you felt your elbows giving out.

“Please, please jake” You begged him, watching him grin ear to ear as he watched you, finally opening your eyes to look at him, practically filled with tears as he kissed your thighs again, assuring you you’d be okay and that you needed to steady your breathing, which you did, but when the coil inside you began to unravel quickly to snap you became frantic. Your legs shook slightly as you curled your toes completely, legs shooting around in the moss and arching your back, your head nearly touching the mossy floor harshly as you took both hands to your mouth to cover your screams as the tears that were clouding your vision now rolled down the sides of your face, adding onto the sweat that was already there.

“There you go baby, that’s it” He cooed, now sitting up on his knees as he took both hands to massage your hips slightly, helping you sit up properly and praising you and telling you how proud he is, moving his hands to your back to massage it slightly and kissing you passionately with a smile.

“I want to try” You mumbled, still in a small trance from your previous intense orgasm, placing your hands on his chest and kissing his collarbone, you could hear him chuckle softly. “Wanna try what?” He asked, examining your face to see what exactly you were looking at, surprisingly it was his tented loincloth, which you quickly made your hands to, untying it quickly and pushing against his chest, wanting him to sit back against the tree behind him.

“You don’t have to, relax pretty I wanna focus on you.” He insured, softly grasping the wrists of your hands, which didn’t stop your movements, only quickening them at a pace where his loincloth was on the floor and you had ducked your head lower to be met with his cock, mouth slightly agape at the sight, definitely larger than expected. You took the time to look back up at Jake who just smirked at you, not wanting to laugh at your surprise as he didn’t already warn you to let it be, regardless you still decided to test the waters, sticking your tongue out softly to lick a long stripe of him, from the base to the tip, sucking the tip slightly listening to his moans. He placed a hand on your head softly, as you practically cleaned him up, the previous remains of his first release, praising you yet again of how well you were doing and even teased you on having previous practice with others, your hums and moans vibrated from your throat out onto your tongue, which continued to swirl around Jake’s tip as you pumped your hand around his length, his girth making it difficult for your fingertips to even wrap around him fully to touch one another.

The more Jake attempted to snap out of the trance he was currently in to pull your head up the deeper you went, slightly gagging at the small feeling of your throat burning. In all honestly you didn’t care, it felt too good, you could practically feel the pool making its way between your legs again, making you hum in satisfaction, plunging even deeper as Jake’s moan’s became heavier, now groaning as he bit his tongue, watching you.

“Baby, let me- shit. Please baby let me please you” He whimpered slightly, his tone not at all intimidating, and honestly he didn’t want you to stop. You just mumbled “mm-mmh” against him to which he groaned again, brushing his tongue against his soft wrapped knuckles, NEEDING to bite down into something, anything, anything at all to help him de-tense. You looked up at him again, bringing your head back up and teasing his tip slightly, liking the way it perked up and throbbed when you did, your movements with your hands becoming even quicker, looking down at the sight before you was pleasant, especially watching Jake’s abs clench, which was an obvious sign he was close, although he already mumbled it countless times.

You placed both hands on each of his thighs as you took a deep breath, plunging your head all the way down as a way to take his length completely, which you nearly did in attempts to not gag, focusing in breathing through your nose. That was until Jake moaned and repeated streams of curse words while praising you before tightening his grasp on your hair and pushing your head down slightly, making your nose barely ghost his pelvis as he came, his remains going straight down your throat as you quickly picked your head up, the rest making its way to fill your mouth as you swallowed harshly, breathing feverishly as Jake took a deep breath, sighing with relief and then breaking into a laugh, along with you who began snickering as well, before showering you with affection and kisses all over yet again, thanking you. Beginning to pamper you again and touch you, placing you on his thigh softly and feeling you underneath him, teasing you about how wet you were again and how he would take care of that.

Soon after you were layed against the grass again, flat on your back as you were making out with Jake again as he towered over you, kissing your cheek softly before getting up on his knees and pressing up between your thighs, placing his hands to spread your legs softly as he maintained eye-contact with you, asking you repeatedly if you were sure about this, which you answered the same every time, nodding and replying with a yes, as he held your hand, all of your fingers interlocking with his, you took your other hand and placed it on the back of your head, grabbing at your kuru softly before placing it in front of Jake as he did the same, watching the tendrils of both of your queues make the bond as you gasped softly, watching Jake’s pupils blow full on wide as yours did the same, he inhaled deeply and exhaled, the tension and satisfaction being intense.

He made you keep his eyes on him, and you did, kissing his hand softly as he guided his cock inside you while you were distracted, sinking into you slowly, biting his bottom lip as you moaned, being caught completely off guard. “You feel so good” He groaned, positioning himself properly over you as he began to thrust himself inside of you slowly, placing a hand over your shoulder onto the blue mossy floor, moaning slightly as he quickened the pace, placing his other hand on your hip, gripping it tightly.

“Jake!! Jake! Oe ke tsun!” [I can’t] You whimpered softly, clawing at his shoulders softly, your moans getting louder and louder each time. He chuckled at your phrase, “M’ not finished with ya, ‘ve been wanting to do this for so long baby, not stoppin’ till your beggin n’ cryin” He mumbled, quickly groaning afterwards and hovering over you even closer, now practically postponing himself inside you after increasing his speeds and depth of his thrusts making you cry out.

You quickly began to claw at Jake’s back, burying your face in the crook of his neck and biting your bottom lip tightly, pressing your mouth against his collarbone, hums now heard from you, making him slow down his pace.

“Don’t do that, don’t hide from me, I wanna hear you, wanna see how good I make you feel.” He teased, taking a hand up to the back of your head, caressing it softly as you placed your head back and mewled. “Feels so good, faster” You groaned, throwing your head back slightly as Jake began to kiss and lick your collarbone softly. “Gotta say please baby” He whispered, you nodded slowly pleading with him as he quickly obliged, increasing the speed of his strokes yet again, causing you to claw deeper at his back, repeating the same curses that he had before from the pleasure you felt.

Your bodies were entangled with one another, pleasure and pride filling both of your body’s, as you let Jake continue his assault on your collarbone and neck as you tightened around him, feeling the familiar knot tightening in your stomach, doing the same you did before, attempting to close your legs, but was quickly stopped yet again by Jake, taking the hint that you were close, taking your left leg and hoisting it upwards, part of it dangling over his shoulder as he began fixing his form, not moving quicker, but moving deeper, causing you to begin blabbering again.

Rambling about how good he made you feel and how you were going to cum, he just chuckled at you kissing you, assuring you he would help you reach your peak and come down from it. He placed his hand slowly over your lower stomach, pressing down softly as he watched you come undone underneath him, squirming around and crying out, tears clouding your vision again as your legs shot around slightly, small screams covered by his shoulder, which you quickly buried your face in as you removed it, exhaling softly. You twitched slightly as he continued, now searching for his high, which was close, too close from the way you hadn’t let go of him, how your walls enveloped him tightly not wanting to release, practically begging to milk him dry, which he soon did.

Just a couple of strokes afterwards Jake finished, but not without mumbling his series of curses against your collarbone, then biting you softly, his fangs just barely piercing your flesh entirely before he growled slightly, you flinched and groaned. The pain quickly settling in and mixing with pleasure as you watched him lick the area his bit you, placing a soft kiss before slowly pulling out of you, then kissing your forehead with a smile.

⋆⋆♕⋆⋆ ⋆⋆♕⋆⋆ ⋆⋆♕⋆⋆

“I love you so much” He said softly, nuzzling his nose into your skin to which you giggled, “I love you” You said back, kissing him as you slowly de-attached your kuru from his queue, sighing softly with a smile.

“We’ve mated.” You stated with a cheeky smile, to which he nodded. “You’re stuck with me for life, how do you feel?” He asked, to which you nodded, tracing his nose with your fingers.

“As if I’m the luckiest na’vi woman alive” You laughed, kissing him passionately.

Ewya you could die happy.

⭐️🕷️TAGLIST🕷️⭐️

@igotmajordaddyissues @bunniparadise @call-me-doll-face @dani111 @anangelwhodidntfall @innercreationflower @shadowmoonlight0604 @ellabellabus07 @bigbootahjudy @taleiak

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[y0ur-loca1-lyr3]

Hi! I’m autistic and a lesbian and my current hyper fixation/ comfort show is Hazbin Hotel and my favorite/comfort character is Angel Dust. I was wondering if you could write a platonic Angel x gn/fem reader that is angsty and involves the reader comforting and taking care of Angel after a really bad night with Valentino. With cuddling, and handholding and Angel dealing with addiction/ self harm and the reader just being there and supporting him or something. I totally understand if not I just thought I would ask. Also I’m a huge fan of your work!!

A/N; hey! Thanks for the request, I haven’t had the chance to write a platonic relationship between two characters, let alone angst to I was really excited to write this! I hope you like this, anon, and I’m glad you’ve liked what I’ve written so far <3

The mystery

Pairing; Angeldust x gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings; abuse, self-harm, self hate. Seriously if your sensitive to any of these, don’t read this.

Angeldust fucked up.

He didn’t mean to, really, but he did, and when he fucked up he really fucked up. Valentino put too much pressure on him, it was all too much. Day, by day, by day, oh god it was torture. He couldn’t take it anymore, so when Valentino said Angeldust had to work even more after doing twenty shoots, he blew up in Val’s face.

-

“Do you really think you have the right to say no?” Val seethed, tossing him like a ragdoll against the wall.

“Val, I swear to god I didn’t meant it, I wasn’t thinking, please-“ Angeldust pleaded, tears pricking his eyes with eyeliner running down his face, a strangled cry as his back crashed into the wall.

“I own you. You don’t have freedom. You follow what I say like scripture, and you do that gratefully.” Val growled tossing Angeldust to the ground and watching him scamper up against the door with a fearful whimper, even really moving paining his back at the moment, “now get back on set before I change my mind about letting you even leave this place.”

Angeldust got up with a reluctant nod, wiping the tears on her face. Another moment of hesitation and he’d be there the whole rest of the day, and by god he’d hate that

“Yes…Valentino.”

-

Angeldust slammed the door of his hotel room, throwing the nearest thing he could find to the wall as he cried. He tucked his knees up to his chest, and just cried for hours. The makeup that he wore washed up completely from his own tears. He didn’t want to go back, hell, if he had the chance he’d never go back. But he already made the deal. His soul want his anymore.

He looked at the drawer that kept the razor he dreaded yet felt comforted by. Damnit, he promised his friend he’d kick that habit.

But one little cut couldn’t possibly hurt, right?

One cut turned to two, two turned to four, four turned to ten, and so on

He could feel the pain of the day leaking out through the cuts, it felt so good, it felt so…

Comforting.

Addicting.

Then he heard the knock he knew oh, so well. It was them. Oh, god it was them. What if they saw him like this and was disgusted? Even he felt disgusted by himself, they’d be bound to be disgusted.

It was too late though, they were in his room, staring at his arms, as he stares back at them. Damnit he must’ve left the door unlocked on accident.

“I heard something break. You wanna talk about it?” They asked, shuffling through their bag to pull out a first aid kit. They’d helped with Angel’s self harm habits, many times, and each time they were so…empathetic, so understanding.

There was no way someone could be so caring, especially someone like him, right? They’re probably just here because of pity.

“No, I don’t wanna talk about it! I want you out of my damn room!” Angel barked, pointing to the door of his room. Sure, there were tears pricking at his eyes, but it was better to push them away now rather than when he got too attached.

“Alright.” They said with a smile, putting the first aid kit on Angel’s vanity, “I won’t pry if you don’t want me too, but just please make sure to clean your scars ok? I don’t want them to get infected.” They asked. They didn’t fully expect Angel to do so, but maybe if they asked he’d at least consider it

Before they could leave though, Angel grabbed they’re hand, his eyes like wells about to overflow, “Wait.” Angel said, the word falling loose from his mouth, “don’t…don’t go.”

They nodded, while still smiling. How they were so understanding was a mystery, but a welcome mystery for sure.

And they were the mystery that held them as he cried, and cried. They were the mystery that gently grasped his hand, and muttered comforting praises to him. They were the mystery that lulled him into sweet, blissful sleep, the mystery that let him escape from the world in a way he felt better about.

They weren’t a mystery,

They were a friend.

[a-really-mediocre-writer]

angel of small death - prelude

Welcome to my Daryl Dixon slow burn fan fiction, I hope you enjoy!

Summary for entire work: Piper, a 19 year old girl, alongside her 16 year old sister, Dina, are thrust into a dead-infested wasteland of the world they once knew. Having had a difficult home life before turn, will this new world be a sweet release?

[this is just the prelude to meet the OCs at the beginning of the apocalypse, you do not need to read this if you want to get straight to the story!]

<< P R E L U D E >>

My relationship with my mother had been a complicated one my entire life, but that didn’t make saying goodbye any less heartbreaking. About a day ago she had been bitten by some homeless man in a sort of drug-induced mania- usually this would not be as big of a deal as it is now, however with the strange “Wildfire” virus going around, we thought it would be best to go to the ER to get it checked after about 2 hours as she started to suffer the dreaded fever- a telltale sign of this mysterious plague.

Sitting next to my mom in this chemical scented room made me reflect on life with her; a life with a blended mixture of extremes of enjoyment at one moment, but also the emotional turmoil that comes with having a vain and abusive parent. Although most of the time that I received physical beatings was from a slew of her ex-boyfriends including my own father, the abuse that damaged me the most was her emotional insensitivity- to her I was not to be admired as an ever-blooming piece of her, but rather as a rival garden that needed to be conquered and put in her place with as many chemicals and weeds as possible. I was not a child, never to her and therefore never to anyone, classically “mature for my age” from the moment I was born. I had to grow up fast to protect my sister, Adina.

The goodbye was not intended to be the final one when we had arrived, however when we heard the gunshots begin to echo throughout the hospital hallways we stared each other in the eyes like deer in headlights.

“Go. Before they stop you- Go get Dina. Be Safe. I love you both.”

I froze.

Then I cried. Hard. Slobbering over my mother’s chest as I embraced her. She loves me.

“I have to get you out of here- I can’t leave you here like this!” I frantically shout over the gunfire growing closer by the minute, grasping my mother’s arms trying to get her out of the hospital bed. She stops me, holding my hand and squeezing it tightly, “You need to go, Piper. I love you so much. Go- It’s okay- Just don’t get caught- Go!” shouting the last bit at me I nod quickly and begin to turn towards the door when just then the handle turns and clicks. My eyes go wide as I lunge to hide behind the door as it opens, holding a hand over my mouth to mask my heavy breathing as the soldier in the riot gear inspects my mother, and once he sees the bite mark on her forearm and her pale, sweat soaked sickly skin he shoots without hesitation.

One shot in her brain.

I jump and clasp my hand tighter over my mouth, fearful of what might happen to me if he realises that I am cowering behind the door. My crying however was not as quiet as I thought, as the man turns around to face me and aims his rifle at my face.

“Hands up!”

I oblige, moving both of my now quivering hands away from my face, hyperventilating.

“Please! Please don’t shoot- I’m n-not bit- I just wanted to say g-goodbye to my mom-“

The soldier stares me down and looks me over, not moving his gun out of my face or saying a word. We make eye contact for a few seconds before he silently lowers his gun, looking between me and my mother guiltily and then he leaves without saying a word, jogging down the hallway to the others.

I glance back over to my mother’s now deceased body and flinch as she comes into my eye line. It all happened so fast; it hasn’t settled in my mind that she was murdered in front of me. I grab a white bed sheet and drape it over her lifeless body.

“Goodnight, Mom. I love you.”

Leaving the room and gently closing the door, I glance down the hallway towards the exit and after scanning for danger I make a beeline for the stairwell. As I turn a corner in this desolate maze, I lock eyes with a police officer, barricading a hospital room door with a gurney. For the second time today, I have another gun pulled in my face.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? Everyone was evacuated!”

I put my hands up “They…They killed my mom- I need to go- I need to get my sister!” I shout down the hall as I slowly begin to lower my hands as he lowers his gun. Once we nod at each other that we aren’t going to hurt one another I bolt out of the hospital and into my car in the parking lot. Wasting no time, I speed down the roads to get home and hopefully find my sister alive and well, watching as fully loaded cars of families are packed up and driving in the opposite direction of me and out of town.

As I pull up to the house my sister runs out to greet me with a hug, which is only short lived as we both head inside to pack up things to bring with us to evacuate. I go to my room and grab a backpack, filling it with clothes, hygiene items like deodorant and sunscreen, a mini photo album, some other random bits and pieces, my converse and two books. I grab my granddads over-sized leather jacket, the one given to me when he passed, and put it on, then grab another bag and head to the kitchen to start clearing out the cupboards full of canned goods. As I continue scraping through the cupboards for any food we can take, I holler out to my sister,

“Dina! We gotta go- you got your shit?”

“I’m coming!” She shouts back as she emerges into the kitchen, backpack fastened to her back and ready.

We load our things into the car as Adina asks me about mom. If she is okay. I just freeze and glance up at her briefly, telling her through my eyes that it was in fact not okay. She goes quiet herself and we continue to load up the car with old camping gear and food in silence. Then we hear a car pulling up the driveway. Shit. It’s our mom’s latest boyfriend, and he does not look happy that we are filling up my mom’s car.

“Hey! Whaddaya think yall doin’? Best not have cleared out them cabinets, girl- half that shit’s mine!” He yells as he approaches us aggressively. We continue to pack the car but only faster, getting into the front and slamming the doors behind us. Backing up off the drive and scratching his car as we peel off down the road with me shouting “Fuck you” and flipping the bird out the window, he is now shouting and trying to chase the car only to give up after we turn the corner. We look between each other concerned and we stay silent until we hit the traffic on the highway.

“Shit.” I mutter to myself as I turn off the car engine, “We’re gonna be here a while.”

Silence.

“…Piper? What happened to mom…?”

I avoid her gaze and stare into my lap uncomfortably, “She’s gone.” I say quietly.

Silence.

After a while of the uncomfortably heavy silence, something catches my eye from a few cars behind us.

The man I saw in the hospital.

“Stay here a sec…” I say as I get out of the car and shut the door, making my way over towards the police officer and his family.

“Hey…did I see you earlier?” He turns around at the sound of my voice and is visibly surprised to see me.

“Yeah, you saw me…” He states and sombrely reflects on the events from earlier on in the day.

“I uhm, never introduced myself earlier- I’m Piper, my sister in that car back there is Adina. Thank you for not uhm, you know, firing at me…” I gulp and nervously introduce myself to the muscular man as he takes a step closer to me. “Not a problem darlin’, ‘m Shane. Officer Shane Walsh,” he sticks his hand out for me to shake, which I do, and his hand lingers on mine as he looks me up and down, before gesturing over his shoulder to the people near the car next to his, “That’s Lori and her son, Carl…his dad, my best friend, was the one I was visitin’ today…He passed.” Hearing this I squeeze his hand apologetically, “I’m so sorry for your loss…” His attention is pulled back to me as he scans my face, “Me too, sorry ‘bout your mom.” We both give each other the same devastated look before I speak up again.

“I’d better get goin’ back to my sister, but we’re only a few cars ahead of you if you need anything.”

“Will do, darlin’.”

---

A/N: AAAAHHHHH i havent written properly in so long i hope you guys enjoy it, chapter one will be uploaded today as well <3

also i wasnt sure what to title the general story but was listening the the hoizer song "angel of small death and codeine scene" and thought that would be cool LMAO

[princessdreamie]

DBH part8

Character references: C: Chance, Fa: Fabian (one of C’s friends & an actor from Na’s favorite show), Br: Chatty/Bratty (N's & Ct's Daughter, but bratty fits her way better if you ask me lol)

New Character/s: Mel: Melody (Fa's girlfriend), Cl: Collin (C's personal driver)

Ofc there are other family members as well but i will include them whenever they actually play a bigger part in the story parts. I highlighted the 2 names since there aren’t many colors I Could choose from lol. So that’s why I picked the current most important ones

At the big kid's school

Br saw C's message in the morning. She thought that he was going to apologize to her on a coffee date. She was very pleased with herself, thinking that he had a change of heart. Maybe even resume their relationship as it once was. In other words, him being the nice timid boy she knew, and she could ask for anything if she acts sweet. She would try to take advantage of his 'guilt' to see how sorry he was. Even bragging about it to her friends at their lunch table. Some of her goons asked if she is going to date him. As much as she likes to think of him as a cute boy, he wasn't her type. She was more into his actor friend, Fa. The girls giggled to themselves.

Fi & Br used to date for a short time but the girl broke up with him bc she felt bored after some time dating her childhood friend. Fi felt defeated for quite some time but hasn't stopped trying to get back with her. Which would have become pretty difficult since he was now studying at a school where his parents work nearby. He had to take over their work eventually so thats why he only gets to visit them every once in a while.

Br was considering his confessions but always turns him down every time. But she was promising him that she might be his Gf when they finish school. But since meeting the cool and easygoing Fa, she couldn't pass off this opportunity. Sure, he was working for a kids' show, but he was still one of the most popular boys in school.

If rumors would go around of them dating, her popularity of being N & Ct's daughter would just increase. She learned from her mother that status is one of the biggest rewards they could have aside from finding love. So that's why she was striving to be the new rising star in her circle and find her true prince charming.

A few tables away, C was eating with his pals, goofing around. Fa's phone started to ring and quickly picked up the phone. He started to talk all sweet and nice. Which was not like him when he was around his friends.

The Ferguson boy then remembered that in one episode, his character had a gf. So he began teasing him out of boredom. Fa was astounded that his buddy knew about this character. C eventually admits that he started to watch it after his lil brother begged him to watch the show.

He liked it but it wouldn't be on the top of his recommended watch list anytime soon. The table laughed and the rest began to tease their Actor friend as well.

C mentioned passingly that he used to watch a different kid's show. Ultraman. To which Fa scoffed at him: „That old dinosaur? Please, they have been Competing against us from the start. They realized they were losing their audience to our show, so they try every kind of movie trope in the book to keep the old fans to themselves.“

Thinking back, C was a big fan of the superhero show. But as Fa said, the franchise has been slipping in popularity. Meanwhile, the fantasy adventure was skyrocketing in the media. Some adults seem to enjoy it as well. The demographic stayed for the kids still.

Fa's character was supposed to stay single throughout the show. The producers changed it sometime later after meeting his real partner, Melody (Mel). Being offered a tryout, Mel was unsure of herself from the start. She was a jewelry designer. Not a movie star. But the ppl loved her performance so much that they begged the couple to let her play a character.

It took some time but Mel started to like the atmosphere and the cartoon itself. She usually records her lines at home so that she could still work on her designs. It takes a lot of effort to get her lines just right but she was happy to help her S.O. in any way.

She agreed to keep playing her character if she stayed anonymous. She wanted to be known for her accessories. She hasn't gotten a huge following yet. But her family supports her to reach her goal.

Another boy on their table asked how a C has still not asked anyone out yet. His response was: „If you would have asked 8-year-old me, I would have had a girl in mind. But now I am just trying to get my grates as good as possible.“

Br would have been an easy choice at the beginning, but like all things in life, people change. And after hearing about the breakup between her and Fi, he certainly was glad to be over the small crush that he had for her.

After school ended, C ordered his driver today to get him to the coffee house. While they drove, C and his driver, Collin (Cl), talked over some basic things from today. He was a middle-aged guy with a slim build to go with his resizing hairline. E hired a driver for his son so that he could go anywhere if he needed to. His background was clean and his recommendations coming from his previous clients had the CEO finally let to hire him.

C and Cl got along pretty well, and the man had always some good advice if he was asked.

Finally arriving at their destination, C tells Cl to wait for him to bring him home. As he entered the building he could already see his cousin sitting with an iced coffee, reading something on her phone.

Finally meeting at the table, they went down to business. Disappointingly for the girl, he was NOT talking with her for an apology but to warn her. Advised that the next time he sees her brother or his pal at any event/party they were hosting or attending, he would make sure that they would be alienated by the people around them for anyone's safety.

[sometimesrosy]

1: Do you think it’s odd that C fell in love with L after she was not only responsible for Finn’s death, causing C to have to mercy-kill him, but also the reason C was forced to kill all those people in Mt Weather? I’m trying to understand their relationship and how it all worked. Her people were so angry at C for falling for L, but she wasn’t trying to betray them; it was innocent. And she chose her people in the end, right before L was killed. L’s made to be this great love for C. Is she?

(I’m answering your 1 and 2 separately because I think they are separate questions about two separate characters’ experiences with the same narrative element.)

Okay. So I didn’t understand in season 3 what all was going on with that and did a lot of work to understand how Clarke could so easily forgive and love L for what she did and what I came up with is two different interpretations one authorial (the Doylist explanation) and one in narrative (the Watsonian explanation.)

Before I start, no. I don’t think L was made to be this great love for C. I think the fandom fell in love with L for many decent reasons, and picked up on some archetypes in the story as a whole, and the traditional romantic tale of the warrior king and the captive princess, and they just really wanted that story, even deserved that story, so the fandom interpretation made The 100 INTO that story. 

I have rewatched the story looking for that great romance, and while there’s some hints of it, and it’s NOT subtextual (which is possibly why the LGBT community was so happy to get it since they are denied that in most of pop culture) the romance of C and L was for me far, FAR too political in nature for me to find it a great, passionate romance. It was all power games except for the episode with Pauna, if I must be honest. And their love scene, in which L had already sentenced her people to death and Clarke had already decided to go home and it was just two women outside of politics consummating their connection. That part didn’t bother me, it was lovely and a moment of peace. I didn’t love that they didn’t talk about anything important, that they COULDN’T, because for me, intimacy and a great love REQUIRES that kind of openness and honesty, at least for the moment. What I need to see in a romance wasn’t there for me. But I’m sure what other people need to see in a romance WAS. It is quite clear that a large portion of the shipping community LOVEloveLOVES the dynamic of powerful dominating warrior who kidnaps and falls for the warrior princess turned vulnerable maiden (witness the latest craze in Star Wars which is also something I *do not like.*) My distaste for that dynamic does not mean that others are wrong for loving that dynamic. I don’t have to get it. It’s not my preference to reconcile with my life and understanding. It’s theirs. Ship and let ship.

Okay, onto my understanding of what the heck was going on with CL in Polis after L betrayed and harmed her so terribly. The doylist interpretation, why they would write that story and what their intention is, is about themes and symbolism and the journey of the hero. No problem there. But my watsonian interpretation, about why Clarke, the character, would submit herself to that, is psychological, and has gotten me into major trouble. But I’m gonna say it anyway, so if you love Lxa and are offended by people looking at the dark side of the CL relationship please do not read.  I’ll put it under the jump, but for some reason that doesn’t work all the time, so when I warn you to stop reading please stop. Be a responsible consumer of the media. And if you choose to read it anyway, recognize that it was your choice and I gave you plenty of opportunity to not be offended, so don’t send me nasty anons please, because you accepted the risk to your sensibilities.

Allright. Doylist:

Clarke is the hero, and Lxa is Clarke’s shadow, her dark side. Her animus.The masculine version of herself who is a ruthless mass murderer willing to sacrifice anyone and anything for her goals. She has always had this side. Maybe her first kill, Atom, was one of mercy, but her second kill, the grounder holding her hostage was NOT. It was to get free and save her people. But Atom and the grounder guard were killed in the same way. Get close, distract with gentleness, then insert blade into jugular. Clarke’s shadow side is the one that allowed the bomb to drop on TonDC (notice she was egged on, if not bullied into it, by L.)  It was the same part of her that even contemplated killing all of MW to save her people. Her shadow betrays her allies for her own people. Clarke was unable to do it on her own until Bellamy helped her. Bellamy is a different kind of dark to her light, but with a similar symbolism, yin/yang, and kind of actually ends up being the light to her dark, which is a whole other symbolic journey that totally transforms the yin yang of CL into something healing seasons later and not what we’re talking about but if you can recognize that similarity to the archetypes there you can recognize what it is about that dynamic that people love so much.

Okay, so the whole point of having that shadow side for a hero is that the hero has to EMBRACE their shadow side in order to be a full identity. They need to stop resisting their darkness and encompass it in their selves, only then can they step into their full powers. I think this is considered Jungian analysis, if you want to read up on it. That’s where you get a lot of the archetypes and symbolism going. Also, you can see it in the Hero’s Journey by Joseph Campbell which builds on Jungian analysis to create a mythic journey we see in many archetypal tales.

Oh, also. Another doylist interpretation. Clarke in Polis is like Odysseus on Circe’s island. Odysseus stays with Circe and is enchanted with her, despite her turning his crew into pigs. He stays for years with her. All while Penelope is left behind to fend off suitors. So Clarke in Polis would be alluding to The Odyssey, a text that is OFTEN referenced on this show. Yes, that would make Bellamy Penelope. (does that mean the suitors are Pike and Kane as well as Gina and Echo? I think it might, actually.)

So why does Clarke fall for L after all that damage? My Doylist interpretation says because Clarke needed to embrace the shadow and because they were reinterpreting The Odyssey. L was Clarke’s shadow the way Circe was Odysseus’ shadow. Anima/Animus. Also, this embracing and acceptance of the shadow story continued on all the way until s5, and I think you can see it in the “be the good guys/maybe there are no good guys/there are no good guys/be the good guys” journey, which was NOT embraced until Clarke talked with flame Lxa and she said she was wrong, betrayal was wrong and love was not a weakness. Shortly after that, Clarke identified the good guy, and it was Bellamy. Then Monty told them to be the good guys and Clarke has not wavered since.

OKAY. Watsonian incoming. All CL and L faithful, please turn away.

okay, so it turns out that when i write about something that once got me harassed or made friends/fandom turn against me, I have to emotionally prepare for it. 

So here’s the thing. The 100 is about Clarke Griffin as the protagonist (and Bellamy Blake as the secondary protagonist,) and s3 is about TRAUMA. Trauma and recovery. Both Clarke and Bellamy are traumatized by MW and encounter a shadow self that represents who they COULD have been, if not for the presence of the other. Clarke could have been the tyrannical leader who thinks she is always right and Bellamy could have been the vengeful leader out to exterminate his enemies. Here you connect the symbolic shadow symbology to the psychological wounding of the trauma and recovery.

If you read Polis as Clarke’s mental journey, it starts to make sense. She lost it and became feral, L kidnapped her and dragged her to Polis. She imprisoned her and, through a series of positive and negative reinforcements (the carrot and the stick), gaslighting, and power games, she turned Clarke to her side and made her empathize with her captor and betrayer. She gave her a way to survive the trauma of what she’d done by telling her everyone does it, it’s okay. 

Why does she believe her? Because she is traumatized and she’s been isolated from her people in a dangerous place where only L keeps her safe. 

Why does she begin to empathize with L? Because this is a psychological phenomenon that is actually common when a person has been kidnapped, removed from their world, and forced to join the other side. We call it Stockholm Syndrome, and the most basic definition is when a kidnap victim begins to have feelings for and empathize with their kidnap victim.

It’s how you survive. And it’s not a thing that is just about Clarke. It turns out that it happened to a LOT of women in tribal times when one tribe would raid another and kidnap women to bring back as wives or slaves or what have you. 

The women who were kidnapped JOINED the kidnappers tribe, because what else could they do?

Anyway. Clarke is dealing with her dark traumatic experiences, L kidnaps her and draws her to her side, she empathizes with L, falls in love, psychologically accepts that her dark side is the right side to handle all this horror, and then returns to her people, not quite whole, but partly healed and limping along in her journey. 

Polis itself was part of the seduction. It was beautiful and comfortable and passionate and romantic and candlelit. A lot of the fandom saw the romance of the seduction and decided that meant the creators were saying that CL was beautiful and L was the new hero of the story, without noticing that it was Clarke’s unreliable narrator, traumatized POV that was clinging to that beauty so she didn’t have to face the pain of what she did, and her people. Shoot. No matter if some people, when getting confirmation from the writers that Polis was a dark psychological story for Clarke, then blamed the FANDOM for never noticing and saying that the only people who did were screaming “ABUSE!” and so were then clearly unreliable. Yes. They were talking about me. Because I TOLD them, personally, in a huge meta discussion, that it was a dark psychological journey and I laid it out for them, and they well. Turned on me, blocked me, ignored me, and then blamed me for them not understanding the damn story. I am still salty to this day. But then, they are no longer in the fandom.

Other people, CL fans, didn’t like that I said Clarke was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, but if you look it up, you’ll see she fits the definition. L literally kidnapped and imprisoned her and this is evident in narrative, dialogue and word of god. 

Why do we think that’s a romantic story? Because it is an old school, traditional romance tale of literal raiding warriors kidnapping women and bringing them back as wives. So romantic. It had to be, because otherwise the women suffering from trauma would not be able to survive. 

There are no more raiders in modern western society, but the story is imbedded in our collective unconscious and our archetypal stories.

I hate them.

Some people love them.

And the people who love them are immensely offended that the people who hate them recognize an abusive, oppressive and traumatic story within them. And then they send us hate anons and mock us for being abuse survivors and “irrational” and telling us “it’s just fiction, Janice.” and on and on and on. 

[bb-eilish]

Glasses

pairing; soobin x f!reader

warnings; dry humping, kissing, curse words, unprotected sex, established relationship, dirty talk, pet names, slight cum eating, dom/sub themes, slight edging, soobin takes a not so appropriate picture of the reader.

summary; you jokingly try on Soobin’s glasses.

A/N; i got carried away.

“You don’t even need glasses.” You giggle, turning your body towards Soobin as you both gradually forget about the Studio Ghibli movie playing on your tv. Jokingly, you reach up to poke the sides of the fake lenses to further your point.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Don’t they look good though?” A laugh-inducing smolder takes over his face as he looks at you. You can’t suppress the cackle that leaves your mouth, he does look good but you absolutely cannot take him seriously.

A hand presses to his chest in faux offense as you flick away the tears from your eyes. The laughter dies out as you lay your head against his shoulder, “I’m just kidding, you look so good in them.” The sigh that leaves you is swoon-filled and dreamy as you snuggle closer.

“I have an idea, look at me.” He mutters.

The warmth enveloping your cheek is begging you to not move, but you do anyway.

Soobin’s bottom lip is trapped under his front teeth until he speaks again. “Here.” He plucks the glasses off of his face and maneuvers them onto yours. They feel a little off until you fix them, after doing so you peer up at him and offer a sweet smile, “How do they look?” You fake his smolder from before.

His laugh is caught in his throat as he takes in how the glasses frame your face, he even forgets to breathe for a second as the smile on his face slowly drops. “Soobin?” You ask concerned, worry floods in as you start wondering if you look bad in them. Your hand flies up to drag them off your face, but a sturdy hand stops you by the wrist.

“Leave them on….” His voice is low and it has your eyes widening. Soobin grips your wrist tighter and before you know it he pulls you swiftly into him, his lips meet yours almost perfectly as he grabs your jaw with his free hand.

The kiss is hot and it has heat surging towards your face. “You’re so sexy.” He mumbles into your lips, the butterflies in your stomach are basically having a rave from his words and actions at this point. Your hand reaches up to grip his shirt as the hand on your jaw lowers to your neck, it pulls you closer and closer.

Begrudgingly, you pull away. Your hand lets his shirt go in favor of fanning over his chest.

“Are you good?”

You can tell he’s not listening, his eyes stay trained on the way your slightly swollen lips form your words. They even narrow when you run your tongue along your bottom lip. It’s like he’s in a trance as he tries to dive back for more.

“Soobin.” You laugh, dodging his kiss.

“Huh? Sorry, what was your question?” He finally meets your eyes as he tries to concentrate.

“Are you good?” You breathe out a laugh.

“Y-yea, I’m fine. Sorry, you look so pretty with my glasses on. Come here.” He let’s you meet him this time, just to be sure he isn’t being overbearing. So, when you meet his lips again he sighs and grips your hips to pull you closer. Kissing him is addicting, and always leads to certain activities. Once he gets a taste of you he can’t help himself.

He nibbles on your bottom lip out of pure desperation, and groans lightly at the feeling of your wandering hands. Soobin sits up to gradually push you to lay on your back, he has you exactly where he wants you. He knows it when he pulls back and gazes at you under him, his eyes are lustful as he reaches a hand up to slowly push your shirt upward.

“Soobin, please.” His name sounds like music coming from you, especially in the way your voice becomes so breathy just from a few touches. “Yea, baby? You want me to touch you?” He hotly questions, pushing your shirt all the way off and flinging it somewhere behind him. It’s hard to get out the words when his warm, large, hands feel up your torso, closer and closer to your covered breasts.

You nod eagerly, “Words, baby.” He lightly scolds, tucking a piece of hair behind your, now, red ear.

“Yes, I want you to touch me, I need it.” It seems as though his desperation has transferred to you, he’s now cool and collected like he wasn’t just captivated by you simply wearing his glasses.

“Good girl, how do you want me to touch you?” He settles on top of you, body snuggly fit between your shaking legs. “Soobin….” You whine, he knows exactly what he’s doing to you and is loving every second of it. He breathes out a laugh and says, “Say it.”

The puff of air you let out is shuddered as you gain the courage to let out such graphic pleas. “Want you to f-fuck me..” You close your eyes at the words and pray he accepts it.

His presses his lower half into yours as his mouth takes interest in your flushed neck, “Mm, I can do that.” The feeling of his hands going higher and drifting towards your back has goosebumps sprout over you as you shiver. The clasp of your bra is off in a second, and if you weren’t so worked up you’d laugh at how good he is at it. But, right now thinking in general is hard as he grinds his semi erection into your covered cunt.

“Soobin.” You moan, your senses short circuit as he drifts his tongue from your neck to your now exposed breasts paired with the feeling of him hardening against your most sensitive of areas. It’s like time doesn’t exist as he has his way with you. Tugging, biting, licking, and kissing whatever he can.

“I bet you’re fucking dripping for me, hm? Should I check?” He doesn’t wait for your answer as he tries to keep his desperation at bay while taking your pants off. The tightness of his own pants brings him back to the fact that he’s still fully dressed, he’s been paying so much attention to you, he completely forgot about himself.

You gaze at him through the fake lenses as he grips the hem of his shirt and tugs it off, his torso is toned and does nothing to help the heart beat in between your thighs.

He leaves his boxers on as he undresses, his breathing is deep as he grips your thighs ands grinds harder into you this time. The lessened layers in between you do little to separate you two, it’s apparent when you feel every ridge and vein of him through your ruined panties. He sets a delicious pace of rolling his hips into you, your clit throbs at the intimacy and pulsing pleasure him grinding into you brings.

You can tell when he’s close, his hips lose precision and become sloppy, as well as the grip he has on you tightens. But before he can finish, he breaks away to push the material down his legs, he does the same to you in just a few moments.

“Fuck, I need you so bad, baby.” He moans, biting his lip as he takes himself into his hand. The view of his glasses on your face, your tits that are out just for him, and the way your soaked hole clenches strips him of his restraint.

“Please, Soobin, need your cock.”

He doesn’t waste anymore time before pushing into you, the sheer size of him has you breathless, that paired with the look of concentration on his perfect face has you clenching again.

In no time he’s setting yet another pace, moans tumble out of both of you uncontrollably at the pleasure you’ve been waiting for. He gazes at your face through his bedroom eyes and leans down, this kiss is much different from the other ones. It’s harsh and full of teeth clashing and tongue battling.

He pulls away to grip a leg and throw it over his sweaty shoulder, while pressing the other one to the couch. The new angle has an arch developing in your back as you whine out his name and other profanities.

“That’s right, baby, tell me how it feels.”

You go to answer him, but when you open your mouth he goes harder. Switching between snapping and rolling his hips into your abused cunt. So all that comes out is babbling and cries of pleasure. The trail of heat in your abdomen gets hotter and hotter the more he spews sinful words and ruts into you. You would have never imagined this is how dirty he would act because of you simply wearing his glasses, but that’s why you love him. He’s full of mouth watering surprises.

His free hand slips between your bodies to play with your swollen, neglected, clit. And when he does is the last straw. Your eyes clamp shut as your body reacts by itself, hips meeting his, sloppily trying to ride out the hot pleasure that’s currently coursing through your veins.

You come back when his moans become high pitched and more frequent. A horny idea comes to his mind as he pulls out and fists himself, the site could make you come all over again as you watch him.

“Mmm, close your eyes, tongue out.” He harshly breathes out.

You do as he says and before you know it he’s coming on your face, bits land on your tongue, but most of it lands on your face and his glasses. He rides it out till he starts overstimulating himself and he slows. The way your eyes and tongue are still in the same position gives him another horny idea.

He reaches behind him to seek his pants pocket and grabs his phone, swiping to his camera app to take the best photo of you he has.

“Look at me, baby.” The second your eyes are open you’re basically blinded by the flash of his phone. A few blinks later you look at him in question.

“I knew you’d look good in my glasses.”

[lovejosephquinn]

What if reader & Joe have been together for a while. Their at an event (or club) . Reader sees Joe being to friendly with a girl so she gets jealous and flirts with a guy and Joe sees and gets jealous. It goes back and forth till Joe grabs reader and takes you back to their place and have angry sex... make it as smuttty as possible 👿 please and thank you ❤️

I absolutely love you horny anon's

I'm taking such a sweet boy and turning him into a sex pest but that's ok, your wish is granted

Under 18's DNI x

You cannot remember the last time you went on a night out with Joe and your friendship group, but it's something you were ready for. You'd shared pre drinks before you left for the club, so you were all were already a little worse for wear. You'd only just finished your first tray of shots when Joe decided he was going to the bar to get another round. The thing with your boyfriend was that once he'd got a taste for drinking, he'd just get completely rat arsed and there were no other two ways about it.

Joe walked away from the table you were all situated at as a familiar song came on and you were happily singing and twirling one of the girls round in your party when she stopped in her tracks, staring over towards the bar. "Who's that blonde girl with Joe?" You immediately swung your head to find him, watching as she stroked over his arm at something he had said. Yes, you were a jealous person (mostly caused from the ex's that had given you not a choice but to be) and right now you were seething, especially when you watched as they clinked a shot together and he pulled her into an embrace, innocent or not; two can play at this game.

You scouted round to find a group of guys stood around the table across from you and you promptly moved over to them and instantly caught their attention, a mix of both maliciousness and alcohol fuelled confidence hit you. Joe looked over to the table seeing that you weren't there, and it didn't take him long to see exactly where you were, completely ignoring the girl and grabbing the tray of shots and bringing them back to your table, his eyes burned into the back of your head, usual soft brown eyes that had now turned green with envy. You patted your hand onto one of the guy's chests and got all excited when another brought a tequila shot for each of you. The blood boiling in Joe was an understatement, he watched as you licked the salt from your hand, took the shot and one of the guys put the lime into your mouth for you. Joe moved straight to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you away and straight out the exit, not even giving the rest of your friends a second glance.

He pushed you forward as you turned around back to him.

"What the fuck was that Y/N?"

"What the fuck was that Joe?" You repeated his question.

"What are you talking about?"

"Little miss blondie."

"A fan who wanted to take a second to meet me and wanted to share a shot with me, nothing sinister."

"A group of guys who paid me some attention and wanted to share a shot with me, nothing sinister." You were completely mocking your boyfriend now, the both of you infuriated. He grabbed at your hand and pulled you around the corner to the taxi rank where you spent the ride home in pure silence.

Paying the driver and slamming both doors shut, you stomped ahead into the complex and into the lift to take you up to your apartment. "If this the game you're playing Y/N, you'd better pack it in, you're mine."

You creeped on up to him, reaching onto your tip toes and whispered in his face; "show me whose I am then." The lift doors opened and without any word of warning, Joe hoisted you onto his shoulder and down through the hallway, gripping onto you whilst you kicked and squealed for him to put you down.

Opening the door to your apartment kicking it shut with his foot he headed straight for your bedroom where he threw you down onto the bed and you hit it with a loud thump. Both exasperation and excitement were now coursing through your veins. He climbed on top of you as you looked directly from his face down to this crotch that was evidently bulging out of his trousers, straining to break free. You reached your hand down to palm his cock over his trousers, listening to him hiss at the feeling when he grabbed at your hand and then to your other, holding you in place above your head. "Don't you touch me; naughty girls don't get to touch me." His eyes were completely darkened now and full of lust and you knew you were in for it. He kept a grip on one of your hands watching you as you sniggered a little and his free hand came to grip round your throat tightly. "Now, be a good girl, stop being a brat and let me show you who you belong to." His latch on your throat became stronger, wiping the smirk off of your face as you struggled to breathe for a second. Oh, he was serious. "Got it?" you nodded quickly. "Good girl." He let go of your throat and expertly undid his belt from his trousers and tied your hands together.

Lifting you from where you lay, he pulled you by your hands to lay on his lap lying flat on your stomach, his cock throbbing harshly against him, god he wanted to be inside you so bad, but not before he taught you a lesson. "Naughty girl's get punished, you didn't think you were going to get away with this did you?" He ripped your panties straight from your aching crotch, tossing the torn material beside you on the floor and began to stroke your ass. Before you could say anything, his hand lifted and struck down onto your cheek, a whimper erupted from your throat. Joe repeated the process about 5 or 6 times until your cheek was red, a solid handprint stained it and the stinging was causing you to squirm. He grabbed a hold of your bound hands and pushed you back up, laying down and spreading your legs you watch as he gets up to remove his clothes, cock springing free, and a sigh of relief comes from Joe's mouth. He shook his head at you "Naughty girls don't get their pussy eaten, they get their attitude fucked out of them, now bend over Y/N."

You obeyed straight away and if you already weren't, you felt completely exposed. Joe spat on his hand and lubed his cock with his own saliva, moaning loudly at the sudden touch from his fist. He leaned down shortly after, spitting at your hole and stuck his tongue inside and washed his spit around it, causing your thighs to shake, you were too turned on for this bullshit. "Joe, fuck me, I- I need you."

"Oh, you do? Beg me, slut." Oh, his dirty talk was so fucking hot.

"Fuck me, please fuck me, this pussy needs to feel your big cock buried inside of me."

He needed but not one more word as he pushed his throbbing member inside of you, pre-cum was already leaking its way out and he knew it wouldn't take him long to finish, but he'd be making you shake beneath him before he got to. He pulled out leaving nothing but the tip just on the inside, holding tightly onto your hips and slamming straight back into you, you squealed in pain and pleasure as he hit your cervix repeatedly, you were sure he'd never fucked you this hard before.

He grabbed your hair into a ponytail and yanked you upwards so you knelt in front of him, his hips continued to buck up into you and he moved his head round so you could look into his eyes, holding your throat again so you didn't look away, instead you closed your eyes at the ferocious speed. "Open your eyes, be a good girl and tell me who you belong to." You moaned as moved your face away and sucked on your neck, biting down and creating a tiny bruise, like an animal marking its territory. He pushed your face back to meet his once more. "Who do you fucking belong to?" You stutter out your words "Y-y-you."

"Good girl and don't you ever fucking forget it."

He pushed you back down and spanked your opposite cheek again, fucking you angrily as his balls slapped up against you, he was putting his all into it and you swore for a second you could feel his cock in your stomach. "J-Joe I'm going to cum." He lent above you, finding your clit immediately and rubbing in fast harsh circles whilst his cock continued to shatter your hole.

"Shit, me too." The severity of it all became too much as you both reached your peak together, your walls clenching his cock as his seed filled you up whilst your orgasm splashed all throughout your body causing your knees to buckle and shake. There was a combined bolt of electricity running through the both of you whilst you rode out your orgasms, thunderous moans and profanities flying through the air from the both of you.

"Holy shit." you murmured in unison, a small chuckle falling from both of you.

He unbuckled the belt from you and took you immediately into his arms, cradling you and stroking your tear-stained face, his eyes returning back to their adorable state but also looking like he had only just stopped seeing stars from the powerful orgasm you'd shared. "Lesson learnt, baby. You were such a good girl for me."

[seasidepierre]

Charles takes you out for a date but you’re being mobbed by fans, he just protects you and lets you feel comfortable around the fans

There was a serious crowd outside of the restaurant you and Charles were having dinner at. Knowing where you were at and what you were celebrating, it wasn't that big of a surprise to see so many Tifosis wanting, too, to celebrate the win of the hero of the day who snatched a second victory at Monza. As a nice coincidence, this also was your third anniversary with Charles, having met him at the Monza GP he won for the first time in 2019. You wanted to celebrate both the events and Charles had had to play some serious cards to escape from the party the mechanics wanted to throw him at the club. But you were there, for once, and he wanted to enjoy his time with you before you'd have to go back to Monaco for work.

"I'm sorry, ma puce," He grimaced behind his glass of wine. "I wasn't expecting them to find us here."

"You just won the Italian Grand Prix, Charlie. Of course, they'd find you," You giggled. "It's okay for now. We'll deal with them when we'll be out."

You couldn't hide the fact that the crowd was intimidating to you. You've never dealt with crowds in the best ways, often opting for the back rows of the standing area when at a show so you wouldn't be trampled by people. Your fear had a name, agoraphobia, which combined your fear of crowds with your fear of uncontrolled social interactions. To summarize it: you were scared of having too many people around you who could judge you for any misstep you could take. Charles knew about that, of course, which is why he took your hand in his and intertwined his fingers between yours, so you wouldn't be seperated by the crowd.

"Hey people, thank you for coming to see me, but I'm just with my partner and she's not doing great in crowds, could you please leave us some space? I promise I'll come back to you as soon as I get her to the car safely," Charles suggested.

The fact that the crowd parted like the Red Sea was impressive, like Moses himself had carved a pathway out of thin air. People diligently took a step back or two, tried their best to prevent the late-comers to push forward and helped you move to the car safely, while your face stayed turned to the floor, not daring crossing the path of a judgy pair of eyes. Your heart was thundering in your chest, a weird mix of fear and pride for your man, beloved by the masses and who could commandeer the crowds. But by looking at the floor to make sure you were not tripping on someone's feet, your gaza locked with a little girl's, clutching a bunny stuffie, decked in red and a massive CL cap on the head, way too big for her small head. You stopped dead on your tracks, clutching Charles' hand to make him stop as well.

"Ma puce, we're so close to the car, I promise," He reassured you.

"Charlie, this little girl," You showed him. "She's so little, I don't want her to get trampled by the crowd, please," You whispered.

Charles instantly kneeled in front of her, asking questions in Italian, while the poor little girl shied away between her father's legs. You smiled at the interaction, while Charles told her she looked pretty in red and that her cap seemed a bit big on her, so he took it and adjusted it, to try to tighten it a little. He dropped a kiss on her cheek, asked if she wanted to take a picture, which the dad immediately agreed to and scooped her in his arms effortlessly, like she weighed nothing at all.

You offered to take the picture without a second of hesitation, your heart full of warmth at the sight in front of you.

You took a lot of pictures that evening, people kindly trusting you with their phones and cameras, congratulating Charles on his win and telling you you looked pretty. Some of them thanked you for making Charles happy.

But you thanked them all for the trust and pride they instilled in Charles, turning him into this humble, sweet but conqueror man you loved so much.

[sword-brainrot]

can i have HC or Scenarios for Sanchoumou with shy saniwa (romantic relationship pls) ,the saniwa always avoiding him or being formal with him while he saw the saniwa talk and being friendly with others swords, will he ask other Ichimonji for help ,i just want to know how he will solve it

Sanchoumou with Shy Saniwa (GN!Reader)

♡ Sanchoumou is a pretty intimidating guy, even if he doesn't act like it. When he first met you, he didn't really pay any mind to how you acted around him. He was sure it was just because you didn't know him well enough.

♡ Weeks past by, him trying his hardest to be charming and friendly to get you to warm up to him... yet, nothing. You still avoided him as much as you could without being rude and were always very formal to him.

♡ Was it because he was the leader of the Ichimonji clan? Sure, it was nice to get respect from the one he calls master but... He didn't want it to the point of not becoming friends with them.

♡ Sanchoumou tried everything he could think of to try to get you to warm up to him. Perhaps it was his appearance? He removed his shades and covered up his tattoos as best as he could. Nothing. Still dodged his eyes and bowed as you walked away from him.

♡ He tried to join into conversation you were in, praising you or telling jokes. Nothing. If anything, you were more uncomfortable with that.

♡ Did he somehow offend you? Was he the sword the killed one of your family members and because of that you refused to even get to know him?

♡ Seeing you smile with other swords and joke around with them from afar honestly hurt his heart. Why couldn't he be that way with you as well? He wanted to make you smile... Not make you uncomfortable like he was now.

♡ He was becoming desperate. He wanted to fix this problem... and if there was truly no answer to this question, then he would leave you be. No matter how much he didn't want to be the only sword that couldn't talk to you.

♡ So he called a meeting with all the members of the Ichimonji clan. As he phrased it, "A very important that you cannot miss."

♡ When they were all there, Sanchoumou told the problem he was facing and asked for help.

♡ Himetsuru groaned and nearly left the room when he heard how foolish the meeting was about. Norimune stopping him with a soft chuckle.

♡ Nikkou offering to make sure you talk to his leader right then and there. It was Sanchoumou's hand on his shoulder that stopped him.

♡ "Aruji may not know how to talk to you, Sanchoumou. Have you ever tried to talk to them about the problem you are facing?" Norimune asked, as he concealed his grin behind his fan.

♡ Sanchoumou was at a lost for words... Since that was the only thing he really didn't do.

♡ Himetsuru wanted to strangle him when he noticed that Sanchoumou didn't do the most obvious solution and ruined his nap time.

♡ Later that evening, after dinner. He caught you when you were about to go back to your room. Being alone in the room with him, you already felt the nervousness shaking you to your core. You gave him a small bow and started to go for the door. Only this time, your wrist was caught, making you freeze where you were.

♡ "Aruji, I'm sorry for touching you without your permission but please listen to my words at least." His hand released you and he sat on the floor before you. His eyes gazing up at the back of your head, pleading. "Aruji, do you hate me?"

♡ The words stunned you as you turned to look at him and only then did you see his face full of hurt. "No, I-"

♡ "Hold on. Let me talk first and then I will listen to everything you have to say and respect whatever you desire." He took a deep breath, going over the speech he prepared with Nikkou and Nansen. "If I have done something to offend you, I deeply apologize. I never did anything out of maliciousness but perhaps something I did or said still hurt you, so I apologize. I would like to know why you have been avoiding me and always being so formal to me compared to the other swords. I wish to get close to you like the rest and truly get to know the aruji that I am serving but if I make you uncomfortable, then I will leave you be. It was never my intention to make your life more complicated than it already is."

♡ His eyes looked up at yours and he stayed silent. Awaiting for you to speak. You honestly felt bad that he was so hurt by your actions. Gathering all the courage you could, you sat before him so you were on equal grounding.

♡ "I do not hate you, Sanchoumou. I don't know how to... talk or interact with you because I get so shy around you. I'm so sorry I hurt your feelings. I do want to get close to you.... B-But I am unsure how when... um, I have a hard time finding the right words and don't want to embarrass myself."

♡ Just from the phrase of saying you don't hate him, a smile came upon his face as he finally got the answer he longed for. Relief filled his soul as he came to realize it wasn't actually because of anything he did and that you wished to be friends with him as well.

♡ He would gently take your hand within his, "Little bird, we will build this friendship at your pace... but don't close me out, deal?"

♡ Your friendship started off slow. He was always a little touchy from the start. Giving small touches of holding your hand to help you up, offering to lift you up to get something from high up, to small caresses when he sees something on your cheek.

♡ Always respecting your boundaries if you seemed uncomfortable with his touches or if he went too far.

♡ It was the first time you laughed at something he said, where you felt more comfortable with him, when he first felt his heart speed up as his brain began to shut down from how stunning you looked.

♡ It was then he realized, he didn't just want to be friends with you. He wanted to be someone special to you and wanted you to only look at him with that affection in your eyes.

[youngbloodlisk]

Two Dresses // Ten

- Ten in a maid outfit

- female reader, also in a dress (hence the name)

- dom/sub themes

- a bit of sub ten but more dom ten

- oral, male rec

- mirror sex

- some hair pulling

- pull-out method (be smarter than a fanfiction and practice safe sex plz)

- some aftercare

@kxnkxmoon 😚

"Hey... is it too late to maybe... change our group costume plan?"

"Nooooo..." Sarcasm laces my roommate's voice "No, Halloween is just two days away and all of us have our costumes already except who? You."

"I'm sorry! It's surprisingly hard to find a maid costume. With maid costumes being trendy all of a sudden, they're sold out everywhere."

"Check a resale sight. Surely someone is trying to get rid of one... Oh, and filter by local pickup! You don't have time for shipping anymore."

"Fine..."

After a few hours of on-and-off searching through different sites, it's a page reload around 5pm that I finally find a listing.

Posted one hour ago, cheap, pickup in my area... but horrible photos. Bad angles, bad lighting, you can barely tell what the damn thing is. No description either. If the title didn't say "Maid Costume with Garters and Collar (Good Condition)", I wouldn't know that it was exactly what I was looking for.

But, that being said... it is exactly what I'm looking for... and it's here and available.

I message the seller to ease my nerves about the product before buying it.

"hey, do you have any other photos of the maid outfit?"

It's around thirty minutes later before I get a response from Mr. 1_0LeeCha.

"i can take some but i won't be home until tomorrow. work until late and im staying at a friend's house tonight to help him with something. i have a few from when i wore it at a work Halloween party last year that i can send in the meantime?"

"that would be awesome, thanks"

"sure one sec"

I wait a few minutes as the three typing dots remain on the screen, telling me that he's scrolling through his photos to send one.

My phone vibrates and I look back at my screen to see... something I did not expect to see.

A slender, fit body in a loose maid dress. The boy is on his knees in front of a mirror with his legs spread apart. The dress is pulled up to fully reveal the black lace garters on his thighs. The hand that isn't holding a phone is holding his dick through the fabric of the dress skirt. His face isn't visible in the photo, but his neck is stretched to the left to show off the black choker.

"OH NO no no no no no i'm so sorry i did not mean to send that one"

"lol it's okay, mistakes happen. to be fair it's still a pretty good photo of the dress. btw is that a wayv album behind you?? signed?? my roommate is a fan lol how did you get that?"

"it's a long story. im kinda close with Ten."

"my roommate says that's cool lol"

"haha yeah i guess. do you want the costume or do you still need more pics of it?"

"are the other pics gonna look like that one?"

"no!! fuck no i swear i wouldn't do that to you on purpose lol. btw i deep cleaned it after i took those photos dw"

"lol no worries i was just playing. i'll take it. pickup and pay in cash tomorrow?"

He agrees and sends me the address, telling me that any time works for him as it's his day off.

I get off work around 5pm the next day and set off straight from the diner towards his address, having no need to go home first.

It's a chilly, but thankfully short, walk in my classic blue waitress uniform.

I check the address about five times before I knock on the door, to make sure I don't show up at the wrong person's door asking for a maid costume...

That would be less than ideal.

I hear someone say, "No, no! I've got it! It's for me!" behind the door before it swings open.

"Hi! Maid costume?" The slender boy, with a body I recognize a bit too well now, cocks an eyebrow.

"That's me."

"You must be freezing out here. Come on in, it's up in my room. You can just follow me."

I nod and comply, following him inside. He closes the door and leads me down the hall to the correct room.

I recognize the dresser and window from the photo, as well as the angle of the mirror leaning against the wall by his door.

He notices the way I lightly chuckle upon recognizing the scene.

"Uh- yeah..." He laughs nervously, picking up the bag with the costume in it. "That's... embarrassing..."

"Why were you taking them anyway? Personal enjoyment?"

"Uh... long story... Listen, I'm really sorry about that-"

"I'm not."

His breath hitches and he hesitates to respond, seemingly wondering if I really just said what he thinks he heard.

"H-Huh?"

"I'm not sorry you sent it. It was pretty... and pretty hot." I take the bag out of his hand.

"Oh, really?" His head cocks to the side, his confidence returning.

Suddenly, it feels as if you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

"Really. I wouldn't have minded if you HAD sent more, in fact."

"Oh? You liked it? You liked seeing me in that costume?" He boldly locks his hands behind my neck.

"I did..." I take the dress out of the bag, dropping the bag to the floor. I straighten the dress and hold it up to his body. "Do you wanna wear it one last time before saying goodbye to it? For me?"

He leans in, only an inch away from my face.

"You're still gonna buy it when we're done with whatever we're about to do, right?"

"Does it really matter?" I meet his lips for a moment.

When I pull away, he takes the dress out of my hands. He reaches down to pick up the bag which still holds the garters and choker, presses a finger to his lips playfully, and disappears into the connected bathroom.

I look around the room while I wait.

This guy has a lot more WayV albums, as well as NCT albums, all of which I recognize from my roommate's shelf.

He has a lot of books that look worn. No telling if he reads a lot or if he just bought them used...

I spot a framed photo on one of the dressers. It looks to be him and his friends (all male) in princess/similar costumes. All of them are smiling or making a funny face.

The guy I recognize looks to be in an Alice in Wonderland costume, which makes me wonder where that costume could be.

The bathroom door opens, calling my attention and making me turn around.

There he is, in that maid dress, leaning against the doorframe. He tosses the clothes he was previously wearing into the corner of the room.

I can't help but notice the orange and gray striped underwear in the pile of clothes.

"You look even prettier in person, especially now that I can see your face. I didn't expect a boy so pretty."

"Well I didn't expect you to be so pretty either... much less wearing a 50's diner waitress outfit. That's for work, right? Or did you get all dressed up to come see me?" He playfully saunters over to me and places his hands behind my neck again, in the same way they were before he changed clothes.

"Cute. And what do you do for a living?"

"Long story." He begins to close the gap between us again.

"You seem to be full of those."

"Maybe I'll explain them all next time."

"Are you implying you already want there to be a next time? We haven't even done anything yet, tiger. Are you really that needy?"

"Are you gonna keep running your mouth or are you gonna kiss me?"

Instead of responding either way, I grab his waist and turn us both around. I push him gently, but hard enough to make him fall back onto his bed.

I quickly crawl on top of him, hungrily attaching my lips to his and straddling him.

His hands run up my thighs and under my dress, resting on my hips.

Things escalate quickly as he presses his hips up, the maid skirt falling to expose his hardening cock, and he grinds against my underwear.

"So desperate, aren't you?" I quickly comment before returning to his lips.

He hums as an agreeing response.

I grind down onto him to create more friction which causes him to moan into my mouth.

I move from his lips to his jaw and slowly down his neck to his collarbone, all while still grinding roughly against his hard dick.

Soft moans leave the boy and his breathing gets progressively faster.

His shaking hand starts tugging my underwear down, and I stop and sit up to take them off for him.

Once the blue underwear are tossed into the corner with his clothes, I resume my previous action of grinding into him. This time, however, his cock is running through my folds, making me moan.

"Oh, it feels so... so good..." He chokes out, breathlessly, grabbing onto the sheets with both hands. "Please..."

He begins to rapidly buck his hips up, matching my grinding perfectly, until his body begins to shudder and his movements become jerky.

"I'm c-cl- I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me, sweetheart." I brush his hair out of his eyes, which gloss over as a sticky substance covers our respective dresses.

He catches his breath for a moment, but his energy returns fairly quickly. Good stamina, I assume.

I slow my movement on him, but continue to seek the friction his shaft was giving me, until he firmly grasps my hips and holds me still.

I can usually keep my cool, but this action definitely shocks me... especially when I look into his dark eyes.

"And w-what do you think you're doing?"

"I sub for my own benefit, not yours."

"That's actually not very subby of you."

"Your voice is shaking. That's actually not very dominant of you... but it makes sense. Did you think telling me to put on a maid costume meant you were gonna take full control?" He scoffs, swiftly flipping us over and pinning me under him. His bare knee slides between my thighs, pushing against my wet pussy, and he holds my wrists against the mattress on either side of my head. He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers... "You're dreaming, honey."

His knee slowly rubs against me and I can feel the garter which is falling down his leg.

The lace brushes my clit as he moves, sending a shiver down my back.

He doesn't let me enjoy it for very long, however.

He gets off of me and stands up, telling me to get up as well.

I stand slightly confused, and extremely sexually frustrated, next to the bed as I watch him pull his white desk into the center of the room.

He pulls off the falling garter, and starts to take off the other one until I quickly tell him to stop.

I bend down on my knees in front of him and carefully take the lace between my teeth.

Looking up at him, he's practically drooling watching me slowly drag the garter down his leg with my teeth.

Once it reaches his ankle, I let go and he kicks it off to the side.

Before he can even speak, I lift up his dress and wrap my lips around his tip. His knees buckle for a moment at the sudden sensation.

He leans back, grabbing onto the edge of the desk behind him for support.

I take as much of him in my mouth as I can, almost on the verge of gagging, and try to handle the last part with my hand.

I can tell he's trying to resist the urge to grab me and fuck my mouth, so I try to make it worth it with the way I suck and lick and stroke him.

When I look up at him with innocent eyes, he shudders and pulls me off of him, also pulling me to my feet in the process.

"If you keep that up, I'll cum again... and I'm not cumming again unless it's because of your wet little pussy. So, bend over the desk."

As I follow his instruction, I realize what he did.

He placed the desk in front of the mirror. The same mirror from the photo which started all of this.

He positions himself behind me, flipping my skirt up and running a slender finger over my pussy.

"So wet..." He sticks that finger in his mouth and licks it clean. "And so delicious too."

He runs his finger through my folds a few more times and sucks them clean as he lines up and pushes into me.

The stretch burns in the best way possible.

I grip the edge of the table as he starts to rock his hips.

My back arches and my eyes shut tightly, but he tells to look in the mirror.

The way the mirror is angled, I'm able to see under the table and watch him fuck me. I watch him disappear inside of me and come back out, which only makes me realize more just how big he is and how deep he's reaching.

He places one hand on my hip and the other on my shoulder before he picks up his pace and starts to fuck me harder and faster.

I can't hold back my moans, feeling him so deep and watching it all happen in that mirror.

I notice his cocky smile.

He removes his hand from my shoulder and reaches down to rub my clit, causing my legs to start shaking. My orgasm starts to approach.

"Look at you..." He smirks at me, locking eyes with me in the mirror. "So pretty and getting ruined by a boy in a maid dress. I'm sure you expected this to go differently, didn't you?"

I let out a loud guttural moan and avert my eyes to the desk right under me, my head facing down.

"Baby, I can feel you clenching. Are you getting close?"

I shakily nod my head and feel his hand leave my clit for a moment as he takes a hold of hair at the root and pulls my head up to look at the mirror again.

"Watch it. Watch yourself cum all over my pretty cock."

He lets go of my hair, clearly expecting me to remain looking in the mirror, and he starts playing with my clit again.

My toes curl and I have a hard time keeping my head up as my orgasm finally rushes through my body. I clench around his dick and he helps me ride out my high before pulling out and jerking himself until he cums on the back of my uniform.

I feel almost limp as I lay across the table. My eyes are heavy, so I simply close them. I can't see anything that happens, but I can hear and feel that he goes to the bathroom and brings back a towel to wipe the cum off my clothes.

"Can you stand?" He asks gently.

I can, and better with someone to lean on, but my legs are a little shaky.

He uses the dampened part of the towel he got to wipe at the cum on the front of my clothes, before carefully having me sit on the edge of the bed.

He helps me pull the dress off of my sweaty body, tossing it to the pile of clothes.

"Wait here." He instructs, going into his closet.

He comes back with some comfortable looking sweats and hands them to me to wear.

I slowly dress myself and watch as he quickly changes his own clothes and then takes all the soiled clothes in his arms and leaves the room.

When he returns, the clothes in his hands have been replaced with a few bottles of water.

"Here, hydrate." He smiles, handing me one of the bottles. "I tossed the clothes in the wash. I hope you can stay for a bit, but if you can't then I can come bring you your clothes once they're dry-"

I don't miss the shining glint in his eye when I cut him off with:

"No, it's okay. I can stay for a while."

We both chug a couple bottles of water each before cuddling up in his bed to talk... which quickly turns into napping.

I wake up to a darker window than when I fell asleep, and I carefully pull myself away from the man to check the clock on the nightstand.

9:00PM.

I've been here for almost four hours, and asleep for almost three of them.

Quickly, a lot of thoughts come to mind.

One of us needs to put our clothes in the dryer.

I need to go home, I can't stay the night here.

Should I wake him?

As I watch his sleeping face, calmly breathing and mouth slightly open, I can't help but smile at how adorable he looks.

Before we cuddled up together, I placed my phone on the nightstand. I slowly and quietly pick it up, opening the camera and snapping a little photo of him.

I'll ask him when he wakes up if it's okay for me to keep it.

I brush a tuft of hair out of his face, which makes me remember when I did that same thing a few hours ago.

I feel my face heat up as I think back to what we did...

Around a half hour later, he's rudely woken up by his phone ringing.

Sleepily, he answers the call from a phone contact named "YangX2".

"What do you want?... Well, now I am... I don't know, uh-" He turns to me. "Are you planning to stay over?"

I shake my head, trying to be as polite as I can.

"She isn't... Yeah, I know... Obviously... Oh, thanks dude... Hey, that's mine!... I don't care that you found it, it was in my pants... Fine, if you've already spent it then-... Whatever... Yeah, thanks... Bye."

He hangs up and looks at me again.

"Good news and bad news. Good news, YangYang put the clothes in the dryer for us when the washing finished, so they're dry now. Bad news, he found money in my pants and bought him and Xiaojun some snacks at the convenience store."

I laugh with him about his stolen cash, which evolves into an awkward silence.

"Well, um... I should get going. My roommate hates being alone in our apartment at night."

"Oh! Yeah, yeah, sure. I'll go get all your clothes for you." He gets up out of the bed and rubs his eyes as he leaves the room.

I make sure I have my phone and my bag, as well as everything that's supposed to be in the bag, while I wait.

Far too soon, he's hugging me goodbye next to the taxi he called for me.

My load is lighter by a couple monetary bills and heavier by a (clean) maid costume.

"Oh! I almost forgot..." I take out my phone and pull up the photo I took of him sleeping. "You just looked so peaceful and cute... is that okay?"

A smile lights up his face, as if somebody taking a photo of him asleep is the cutest thing anyone's ever done in his eyes.

"Yeah, absolutely."

"Good. I'll... I'll see you around..." I trail off, realizing he never even told me his name.

"Yeah, I'll see you around..." He also trails off, probably realizing that I never gave him my name either.

We share a look, however.

A look that says that some things are better left a mystery.

I get in the cab and close the door, giving the driver the address of an apartment building just a couple blocks from where I actually live.

The moment I open the door to my apartment, I'm attacked.

"Where did you go? What happened? Are you okay? I thought you just had work until 5 and then picking up the costume. So, why didn't you get home until 10pm?!"

I explain everything.

Well, not everything of course... but the general things.

"Oh my goodness... was he cute? You said he stans NCT, of course he's cute. Do you have a photo of him?"

"Yeah, actually..." I pull up the adorable sleeping boy on my phone and show her.

Her eyes about pop out.

"TEN?!"

"Huh?"

"That's Ten! That's a member of WayV!"

"Wait- what?"

I suddenly remember what he said when I asked about the signed album in the photo.

"Kinda close with Ten" my ass...

[hale-13]

Conditioned

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 16 - Touch Starved

“Can I take a shower?” Peter blurted out, shifting uncomfortably. He felt gross from the dried sweat and the bloody residue that was left on his scalp and around his hair line felt the intense need to get cleaned - broken arm be damned.

Words: 2084, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Helen Cho

TW: Literally None - Just Fluff

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Well Peter, I see no reason why you should have to stay here any longer as long as you promise to actually rest and allow yourself to heal,” Helen said firmly but with a smile toward him and Peter nearly sagged with obvious relief.

“Oh thank god,” he said he’d, already struggling in his attempts to climb out of the MedBay bed he had been sentenced to since the day before with some help from Tony. He flinched a little as he tweaked his sore arms, moving the wrong way, but trying to keep his muscles as relaxed as possible to prevent any further damage. His recovery is going to be annoying enough as it is without making it worse.

In his most recent fight against the Shocker the night before, he had caught a direct hit on his right arm which had successfully and cleaning broken his radius and ulna in two. In his haste to get away and then catch himself on a poorly shot strand of webbing he had dislocated his left shoulder. The pain had been so stunning he had barely been able to finish webbing up Shocker and get away before the police showed up.

It probably didn’t do much to help the injuries when he had swung back to the Tower but he had been numb and delirious by that point so he probably wasn’t really thinking straight. He does remember Tony not being super impressed with him when he nearly passed out as soon as he landed.

“I’m serious about resting,” Dr. Cho warned him as she helped him settle his, still sore and recently reduced, arm into a sling. “You need to take it easy for at least another few days or you’ll risk re-injury and possibly surgery.”

“Oh that shouldn’t be a problem,” Tony said breezily. “I have no problem cuffing him to a bed if I have to.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whined, trying to stand and balance without using either of his arms – it was much harder than he thought it would be – and already trying to edge toward the door. Tony just quirked up an eyebrow at him.

“Your aunt, definitely against her better judgement and with an amazing amount of misplaced trust, is letting you stay here with me so you don’t get into any more trouble during your convalescence so if you could just work with me for a couple of days here that would be much appreciated,” he told Peter very pointedly with a final wave at Helen as he herded Peter toward the elevator at the end of the hall.

Peter just rolled his eyes at his mentors dramatics but allowed himself to be directed – to tell the absolute truth, his arms still hurt pretty badly and he wasn’t really looking forward to his oral painkillers (that made him sleepy and emotional) and his anti-inflammatories (that made him into a right bastard if he was being honest) and trying to convince Tony that he didn’t need either. He wasn’t super confident about his success rate with that. “Can I take a shower?” He blurted out, shifting uncomfortably. He felt gross from the dried sweat and the bloody residue that was left on his scalp and around his hair line.

“You know that you can’t get your cast wet,” Tony reminded him holding up a hand when Peter opened his mouth to interrupt. “I mean, I suppose I can wrap it in a bag or something if you really want to shower that bad.”

“Yes please,” Peter eagerly agreed. Ever since the Bite all of his senses had been more sensitive but none more so than his sense of smell and he wasn’t a particularly big fan of the fact that he could currently smell himself. It made his skin crawl and was completely disgusting.

“Alright then,” Tony nodded. “Shower first and then a movie marathon slash prescribed nap directly after. Do we have a deal then Mr. Parker?”

“Only if we can get pizza for dinner later,” Peter bartered as the elevator opened up on Tony’s floor of the compound. “With pineapple this time,” he continued with a wrinkled nose, “the olives you got last time were disgusting!”

“You have astonishingly terrible taste but yes fine. Pizza later.” Tony nodded, herding both of them into the kitchen with a single-minded determination. The Wal-Mart and cling wrap cast protection apparatus Mr. Stark rigged together left a fair amount to be desired in the looks department but was completely functional when it came to water-proofing which was good enough for Peter.

It took some skill to slip away from his mentor but Peter was soon slipping into his room, struggling to get out of the sling on his own and finally succeeding. It made him wince from the extra pain it caused but it didn’t overshadow the relief of doing it on his own. He knew his limits from previous dislocations and knew that it was crucial to not overdue it while the joint was healing or he risked the chance of re-injury and, as Dr. Cho had reminded him earlier, surgery.

With a grimace, Peter rested that arm across his stomach and used his bagged up right arm to pull his shirt over his head. He was barely able to manage it when it pulled at his sore muscles and broken bones. Maybe he should use a button down or zippered hoodie instead.

Thanks to FRIDAY (bless her seriously), the water of his shower was already running and warmed up to his preferred setting of skin melting and he was quick to turn his back into the spray and luxuriate under it for an extended time. The high pressured water felt amazing on his back and shoulders, loosening up the knots and clenched muscles and providing relief.

“You doing okay in there kid? You drown yet?” Tony asked, knocking on the door and indiscernible amount of time later and knocking Peter out of his stupor.

“I’m good!” Peter called back, hurriedly reaching out for his body wash and cloth painfully and cleaning himself up to the best of his – limited – ability. By the time he was ready to wash his hair and hairline he felt exhausted and achy despite the excellent water pressure and all the good work it and the heat had done to relieve the pain in his shoulder and back. “Fuck,” he cursed, trying to lift his arm above chest level and spectacularly failing, finding himself unable to without making his muscles seize.

Peter was pretty bendy due to his powers so he attempted a couple different contortions to reach his head before just flat out giving up, turning off the water and taking his towel off the heated towel rack installed in the bathroom (rich people – seriously). It took longer than Peter cared to admit, but he was able to dry and dress himself in sweats and a zippered hoodie. He was even able to shuck the bag off his cast with little struggle so he was feeling pretty decent when he ventured into the living room with his hair sopping wet and dripping onto his shoulders since he wasn’t able to adequately dry it. Whatever. It would dry on its own eventually.

“And what’s all this supposed to be?” Tony asked, glancing up from his phone and wrinkling his nose but not moving from where he was leaned against the counter in the kitchen. “Why are you dripping all over my floor?”

Peter fought off a blush and tried to hunch his shoulders, stopping when it hurt. “I couldn’t reach up to get my hair,” he grumbled, failing to completely push down his blush.

“I guess that explains all the blood still caked in there,” Tony hummed, leaning over to move the dampened curls around to look at the blood still matting some of his hair together and crusting up around his scalp. “Well that’s pretty easily remedied. Welcome to the salon Underoos,” Tony said, pulling over one of the barstools and setting it in front of the kitchen sink, gesturing for Peter to sit.

“Uh… what?” Peter questioned, brows furrowing in confusion.

“I’ll wash your hair for you,” Tony clarified, looking pointedly between Peter and the stool again. “Just sit down while I go and grab some things!” And, with that, he took off in the direction of the bedrooms and associated en suites.

Peter, still pretty confused but (mostly) trusting his mentor, sat down unsteadily on the stool just as Tony came back around the corner with an armful of towels, shampoo and conditioner bottles along with a wide-toothed comb and an expensive looking hair dryer. He triumphantly arranged everything on the counter next to the deep sink and wrapped one of the towels around Peter’s neck. “Lean back buddy,” Tony said, using a finger to push on the center of Peter’s forehead until he gave in and let himself be pushed back to lean back with his head in the sink.

Doing his best to ignore the weirdness of it all (weirdness was pretty common around Tony Stark after all), Peter closed his eyes and crossed his arms across his stomach as the water turned on. He tensed up a little when he felt fingers start dragging through his hair but was quick to relax and release the tension in his body under the careful massage of his mentor’s hands through his hair and the warm water cascading across his scalp. He let out a little hum of contentment.

Tony let out a soft chuckle, squirting a healthy dollop of the shampoo into his hands and lathering it up before applying it to Peter’s hair, working through the snarls and tangles with care and scrubbing the leftover blood out of the curls. Peter went nearly boneless under his ministrations and Tony would definitely be lying if he said he didn’t milk the washing and conditioning portion at least a little bit. He knew that Peter had to be feeling pretty miserable and it settled something buried deep inside him to provide just a little extra comfort.

All too soon, though, he had rinsed out the last of the conditioner leaving Peter’s hair clean and dripping as he turned off the water. Peter made no move to get up or to open his eyes, breathing deeply and seemingly on the very verge of sleep, so Tony grabbed one of the towels and started to wring the extra water out of the kid’s hair, running the towel through it cautiously. “Just need you to sit up for a second here kiddo okay? Then you can nap, scout’s honor.”

Peter grunted and grumbled but did slit his eyes open and let Tony help him sit up, swaying back and forth and little on the stool and Tony ran the towel through his hair a couple more times to really get rid of the water as much as possible. He dropped the towel on the counter in exchange for the comb and the hair dryer. He ran the comb through the mess a few times before starting the hair dryer up. Peter practically melted as the warmed air fluffed up his curls. It didn’t take long to dry at all and, by the time he was done, Peter was listing forward nearly into Tony’s chest.

“Couch or bed buddy?” Tony asked with a fond smile, running his hands through Peter’s warmed and clean hair.

“Couch,” Peter muttered, leaning into his petting and making Tony’s chest warm up. This kid… god. He ended up supporting most of Peter’s weight but was able to quickly get him lying face down on the supple cushions with his head pillowed on one of the throw pillows resting on Tony’s lap, the ratty fleece blanket Tony kept draped over they back of the couch draped over him and a heating pad resting across his healing shoulder.

“Let’s start a Star Wars marathon FRI. Volume at thirty percent,” FRIDAY was quiet as she dimmed the lights and started the movie, the familiar logo and music making Peter relax even further into the couch, completely gone. As the opening theme ended and the camera panned to the shots of Leia’s ship, he felt Mr. Stark’s hand rest on his back, digging into the knotted muscles of his back.

It maybe wasn’t ideal to mess up his arms so much but, Peter thought, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his recovery.

[wkemeup]

Cold, Cold Water

summary: While on a stakeout in the heart of Russia, Bucky learns that touch can bring something more than pain and he will willingly give himself over to the ice if it means keeping you alive. pairing: Bucky x reader word count: 10.5k warnings: SMUT (18+), 🎶stake-me-out tonight🎶, some violence, near drowning, hypothermia, that good ol’ we-gotta-share-body-heat-or-you-might-die trope a/n: this was written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​‘s follower celebration! My prompt was “have you been crying?” This clearly took on a whole life of its own...

Bucky didn’t care much for the cold. It always seemed to be more of a challenge to his mind than his body. It took him back to darker memories of enclosed spaces and lapses of time, to handlers barking orders and the electricity of the chair. Whenever a chill swept up his spine, he had to remind himself of who he was, had convince himself he was safe and not about to lose another decade under ice.

The serum pumping through his veins aided in keeping the shivers to a minimum and allowed him to tolerate more than most when it came to freezing temperatures but it didn’t make it any easier to sit in an unmarked car, deep into central Russia, watching as his breath left his lungs in small, isolated fogs.

He started to wonder why he ever agreed to take on a reconnaissance mission in a place where the icy cold of the air stung in his nose with each inhale. That was, until he heard the soft rustle of your jacket beside him as you yawned, readjusting your position, and he remembered.

He went for you.

You were curled up against the passenger door, huddled under three layers of t-shirts, sweatshirts, and a heavy woolen jacket, though it didn’t seem to stop your constant shivering. The clicks of your teeth chattering together hadn’t ceased since you’d arrived to the frozen wasteland nearly two weeks prior and while Bucky offered to take the first watch of the night in hopes you’d get some rest, you had yet to even close your eyes.

Forehead pressed against the window, you winced as you tried to get comfortable along the stiff seats of the dated car. Knees tucked up to your chest, arms wrapped tightly around your legs trying to preserve warmth, your breaths were shaky on every exhale.

Bucky swallowed nervously, stealing glances at you from the corner of his eye as he tried to keep focus on the target of the mission.

An arms dealer by the name of Ivanov paced back and forth in front of the window to his apartment, only his shadow visible from Bucky’s position in the car. Every few seconds, Bucky turned and caught a glimpse of you pushing your rosy cheeks into the wrap of your scarf or carefully blowing hot air on your hands, but nothing seemed to help the icy cold of your skin.

It made his stomach turn, watching you try to keep warm despite the freezing temperatures outside. You had reluctantly asked to start the engine of the car after sitting on your hands for nearly two hours and Bucky hated having to tell you no, that any kind of attention drawn to the car could blow the cover. You had nodded, understanding, but your lips were turning blue.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to take your discomfort away, to give you the advantage of the serum so he could suffer through the chills in your place. He’d do just about anything for you, he realized.

He didn’t have a way of quantifying his relationship to you but he knew it sat somewhere beyond friendship and less than what he wanted, needed.

When Steve first brought him to the compound a year earlier after he’d been pardoned, he had been a shell of the man he was in the forties. As much as Steve tried, Bucky couldn’t be the man his friend so desperately wanted him to be. He was something else now, something darker and broken, something irredeemable and lost. He was sure of it.

Until he met you.

Like the first breath of air after his lungs had filled with water, you walked into his life and gave him something he hadn’t known in decades. Hope.

You never walked on eggshells with him, never avoided him when he walked in the room, always sent him the kind of smile that warmed over the ice in his chest even when he could give you nothing but scowls and hardened features in return. You never pushed him beyond what he could handle, but you were determined to get him to open up, to feel safe, to have someone he could call a friend, who appreciated him for the man he was and not for the absence of who he used to be.

Over time, he started to notice himself smile when you walked in the room. He started to give you answers to your questions longer than a few words and started asking questions of his own. He started to seek you out when you didn’t show up in the kitchen for coffee at your usual hour and started asking if you had any suggestions for shows he should catch up on since Parker hooked him up with some streaming site he couldn’t remember the name of. You had smiled so bright, Bucky almost melted.

Through it all, Bucky wished more than anything else that he could forget about his past, that he could start fresh and let himself fall for a woman he so clearly had feelings for. But every time someone came too close to him, his heart skyrocketed so fast he was sure he might pass out.

He hated that it happened even when it was you.

Unsurprisingly, you were incredibly observant and seemed to be the only one who noticed the way he flinched when Steve proudly patted him on the back the day he recalled another memory from their childhood and when Wanda had kindly touched his arm apologetically when she almost knocked him over on her way off the elevator. You noticed that he backed away whenever someone got too close and how he’d jump up off the couch like something had burned him if anyone sat close enough to touch his thigh.

Much like the cold, he didn’t do well with touch either, he supposed.

Add it to the list.

While you never confronted him, you made sure to be cautious of it, always letting him take that step on the days he was comfortable to do so. He wondered if you knew how much your kindness affected him, if you understood that the gentleness you treated him with was more than he’d known in decades and every time you pushed the boundaries and let your hand graze over his, his heart skipped a beat for the right reasons.

He was getting better with the idea of touch and, slowly, he came to find that he wasn’t so afraid of it if it was coming from you.

He started missing the feel of your fingertips ghosted over his arm in such a whisper that they were gone before he even realized they were there. He craved the way your thigh would brush against his as you sunk down onto the couch for movie nights before you realized how close you had sat next to him and scooted away apologetically. He needed the way you reached out to steady him with a close hold on the flesh of his shoulder like he needed air.

You grounded him, brought him back to the surface after decades of swimming underwater, and he wasn't even sure if you knew.

So, as he watched you struggled to keep your arms from shaking, the clouds of your breath forming from your lips, he wondered if maybe he could do something about it after all, if maybe he could push past the accelerating beat of his heart to ease your discomfort.

“You’re shaking,” Bucky said, flatter than he meant to, almost too clinically, like an observation that left out the underlying concern he felt.

You nodded, trying to push out a smile despite the cracks in your lips. “Well, we are in Russia. K-Kinda known for being c-cold.”

Bucky swallowed, turning to check on Ivanov again who hadn’t moved from the window in his living room. He sighed, trying to work up some courage, and pushed the arm rest up between you until the front seat was more of a bench than two separate seats. Old cars had their advantages even if the insulation was shit.

He nodded for you to come closer, reaching out and gently tugging on the shoulder of your jacket. Your eyes darted down to where his hand gripped lightly at your sleeve, surprise clearly written on your features. You narrowed your eyes up at him, confused and Bucky licked his lips.

“Just come here, will ya?” Bucky requested nervously, a slight chuckle in his voice to mask the anxiety he felt. “You’re gonna freeze over there.”

“Are you—Are you sure?” you asked hesitantly, always so cautious with him in a way that made his stomach twist. “You don’t have to do that for me, Buck. I know it’s hard for you when people get too cl--”

“You’re not just ‘people,’” Bucky replied quicker than he meant to. He swallowed thickly, watching as a violent tremor swept up your spine and you grimaced, unable to suppress it for his sake, though you tried. Bucky sighed. “Please, Y/n, you’re turning blue. I need you to not freeze to death on me if we’re gonna get this guy. Let me save your life, doll.”

He pushed out a smile for you and it seemed to ease your reluctance. He knew why you were being so hesitant, though. A few months back, he had been thrown into a full-fledged panic attack in the heart of Brooklyn when an eight-year-old fan had rushed up and hugged him without warning. He kept it together long enough to not scare the poor kid, but you had to drag him down an alleyway away from the busy streets to help ground him again. It took you nearly twenty minutes to calm him down again and Bucky could see that same fear in your eyes now, like you might be the one to put him back in that state.

“I’m okay, Y/n. I can handle it,” he said sincerely before he reached forward and took one of your hands in his.

You were like ice and you practically sighed in relief as warmth radiated from his grip. He’d held your hand before, once, when you found him shaking in the middle of the night and he couldn’t handle more than the soft touch of your hand in his. It felt different now and not because your skin was frozen to the touch.

Bucky smiled as you squeezed his hand, searching for more of his heat. It was working.

“You’re a furnace,” you gasped, pressing the back of his hand to your cheeks and he nearly hissed from how cold you were.

“So come here, then,” he chuckled, pulling you closer by the hand and you laughed under the cold clouds of your breath, crawling closer to him.

It took a moment before you situated yourself, sitting stiffly at his side, still with a few inches between you. He’d spent too long keeping you at a distance that you were practically conditioned not to touch him, even if he was initiating it.

With a surge of confidence, Bucky reached around your lap and tucked his had around your outer thigh, scooting you closer until the length of your leg was pressed against his.

Your eyes were wide and he tried to hide the blush in his cheeks as he avoided your stare. He was thankful you allowed him to move you like a rag doll, letting him set you against his body where he was comfortable until your arm was crossed over his waist, tucked behind the open zipper of his jacket upon the thin fabric of his t-shirt until you could feel the ripple of his stomach muscles, and your head was leaning on his shoulder. Your right leg crossed your left until you were so curled up against him, he could feel your heartbeat from at least four different pulse points.

A sigh left your lips and you squeezed at his waist, nudging your head along his shoulder, almost purring, and it took away any lingering anxiety he felt. For the first time in years, he felt normal, like touch could be something for comfort instead of pain.

You were asleep within a few minutes, the warmth of your breath on his neck, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

He watched Ivanov pace for the rest of the night, listening contently to the soft vibrations of your breaths and tired not to focus on the pleasant twists in his stomach when you pulled him closer to you in your sleep.

***

A few more nights of curling up side by side in the front seat in search of shared warmth and Bucky decided he never wanted to be without your arms wrapped around him again.

Ivanov was taking longer to meet up with his supplier than anticipated so you spent more time holed up in that car together than either of you had planned for. Letting himself give into the need he had been suppressing for so long to be close to someone, to be close to you like this, to be held, was the only thing making the aching chill of the cold worth it. He'd submerge himself into ice water if it meant he could still come back to your arms.

You had stopped complaining about the freezing temperatures and you no longer shivered when you were pressed up against his side. It was nearly a week of sharing the warmth of your bodies as you continued the stakeout before you asked him a question that nearly made his heart stop.

“Do you wanna get a drink?”

Bucky stiffened immediately, though you didn’t seem to notice, still curled up against his side with your cheek pressed to his collarbone. He remembered Sam teasing him about this once; that ‘normal people’ went out on weekends and how asking to get a drink with someone was asking for a date.

Was that what you were doing? Did you want that with him? Why was he starting to sweat when there were icicles forming from the condensation on the car windows?

“Buck? You okay?” you asked cautiously, sitting up and he missed your warmth instantly. “If you’re worried about Ivanov, I’ve got a monitoring system set up so we’ll know if he leaves his apartment. He hasn’t left that living room in days. We should be fine for just one drink, at least. It’ll help warm us up. Please?”

The way you were looking at him with pleading eyes and an eager smile brimming on your lips, Bucky didn’t know how he could possibly deny you. Your smile could make him do just about anything.

“Y-yeah okay."

The spark of joy that lit up your features was enough to push aside any concern he had over the mission and bypass the nervous energy consuming his veins. He stopped thinking about Sam’s stupid comment and tried to ignore the jolt in his heart as you grinned at him.

“Great! There’s a bar across the street,” you pointed out and Bucky chuckled, realizing you had been thinking about this for longer than he thought. “Come on!”

You pushed open the car door with a heavy kick to break through the ice that had formed on the creases of the latch and a brush of freezing air swept into the car. Bucky quickly stumbled out after you, tucking his hands into his pockets and nearly fell a few paces back as you collided against him, wrapping your arms around his waist to keep warm in the few steps it took to cross the street.

A few months ago, that might have thrown him into a state of shock or stolen the breath from his lungs, but now, he only started to laugh. He surprised himself as removed his right hand from his pocket and draped it around your shoulders.

He held open the door for you as you walked into the bar to find dim lighting and the clicking of pool balls as two heavy set men with long, unkempt beards paced around the green felt table. There was no music playing and a total of three people inside the bar, including the bar tender, but it was warm enough for you to shrug off your jacket so Bucky was satisfied.

You hovered over the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice you, though he didn’t look up in your direction until Bucky stood by your side. He made eye contact with Bucky and draped the towel over his shoulder as he started to make his way down the bar. You scoffed, muttering something under your breath about the man’s very clear misogynist attitude that made Bucky chuckle quietly.

Considering you didn’t speak Russian, Bucky quickly ordered your favorite drink and a bourbon for himself. He tried not to notice the way you grinned to yourself as the Russian rolled seamlessly off his tongue. Only, the bartender didn’t respond. He stared blankly back at him and Bucky narrowed his eyes, wondering if maybe he had used the wrong dialect, until he took notice of the series of bottles behind the bar, all filled with a clear liquid.

He nodded in understanding and ordered two vodkas, straight.

“This is what we get for agreeing to a mission in Russia,” you muttered, taking the glass as the bartender attempted to hand it to Bucky. The bartender’s eyes trailed down from your face, lower than any decent man would stare without reservation and Bucky quickly paid for the drinks, not wanting this man to look at you with such hunger any more than he already had.

By the time he opened the tab, you had already retreated back to a booth in the far corner of the bar, hidden in shadows and nursing your drink with a sour face. Bucky smiled, noticing the twists in his stomach that came along whenever he seemed to look at you these days, and grabbed his drink from the bar.

He attempted to sit across the table from you but you grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket, tugging him until he slid into the bench beside you. He didn’t even stop to notice how easily he had grown used to your touch, that your quick grasp onto his jacket didn’t even take him by surprised.

“You still cold?” he asked carefully, moving to run his hand along your arm in hopes to warm you but you shook your head.

“Just like sitting next to you,” you replied casually and it made Bucky’s heart jump. “Is that okay?”

“Y-yeah, ‘course,” he stuttered nervously. For the first time in years it wasn’t because of the close quarters he sat in with you, but because being around you made his stomach twist and his heart skip beats and placed a smile on his lips that hadn’t curved up for such extended periods of time it was started to ache in his cheeks.

You made him nervous for reasons outside of his trauma. You made him nervous because he wanted you to touch him more, because he wanted to spend all of his time with you, because he started to find himself looking at your lips and wondering what they would feel like against his own.

“So how mad do you think Steve would be if he found out we left our post for a drink?” you smirked as you took a sip from your glass, though you couldn’t hold back the grimace that followed. Still, you took another swig before Bucky could answer. You were just so damn endearing he wondered how it was possible he didn’t let himself be close to you like this before Russia.

“What Steve doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Bucky laughed. “Besides, he’s been trying to get me to go out for months. It’s not my fault I decided to do it while in some nowhere town in Russia while on the clock.”

“There’s that rebellious spirit I’ve heard so much about,” you beamed, nudging him in his side until he broke out into laughter. The two men at the pool table turned and glared at the two of you and Bucky waved them off, which only made you laugh harder.

***

Two hours later as Bucky was on his second drink and you on your third, you started to play absentmindedly with his left arm. Delicate fingers traced over the gold shine of the detailing and the dark grey of the plates. Humming quietly to yourself, Bucky wondered how it was possible to have known someone like you, whose touch brought him something other than fear and pain, who only looked at him with kindness and wonder, who saw his arm as something of beauty rather than an instrument of violence.

“Can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” you whispered softly, under your breath, almost as if you were voicing the thoughts in your head aloud without realizing it. You turned his hand over in yours, tracing at what would be the lifeline in his palm.

Bucky parted his lips to say something, anything, but nothing seemed to come out as you carefully moved your hand up his forearm and over his bicep, just exploring. It was different in his left arm, didn’t feel it the way he might have in his right, but it still sent shivers up his spine that had nothing to do with the cold outside the walls of the bar.

“Is it just the alcohol?” you asked quietly, a sliver of disappointment in your voice as your hand brushed over his neck, thumb tracing along the scruff on his jaw and he sighed into you, leaning against your hand as if searching for more, and he was.

You wore a sad smile that broke Bucky’s heart.

“Would you let me do this if you were sober?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, surprised by your questions and the ache in your voice he wasn’t used to. It didn’t seem to occur to you that the alcohol didn’t affect him like it did before the war, not with the serum, but your concern that maybe that was the only reason he would let you near him like this, even after how close he let you in the car, twisted in his heart.

He wondered then if maybe you longed for him the way he so desperately longed for you, too.

Bucky thought back to all the times you asked him to watch movies with you late at night and how you’d sit by him with a bowl of popcorn between you, how you’d bring him up to the roof to watch the stars and make sure to sit on a separate lawn chair, though you dragged it close enough to be near. You were so observant with him, so in tune to his needs and offering your hand to him in the moments that touch wasn’t just wanted, it was needed.

He remembered suddenly how bright you’d smile whenever he caught your eye across the room, how your cheeks would flush when Sam teased you about the late-night trips to the roof, and how you defended him with every breath you had to a hoard of freshmen agents who gossiped too loudly about his time as the winter soldier as you walked by.

Lost in his own thoughts, your hand started to fall from Bucky’s face in his absence of an answer and you began to turn away sadly. But then, Bucky’s hand jumped up to yours, holding it steady against him. You looked to him, surprised, lips parting and Bucky swore he could hear your heart beating.

“It’s different with you,” Bucky tried to explain, his voice hoarse, “it’s always been different with you. I didn’t realize how much I needed this, needed someone to just... touch me. But it’s not just someone, it’s you. I need it to be you.”

A breath left you, stunned, and your thumb traced in careful strokes over his jawline enough to draw a gasp from him. Eyes flickering down to his lips, Bucky swore his heart might have stopped. He didn’t want to consider if it was too much too soon because nothing ever felt wrong when he was with you. He started to lean in, watched as you closed your eyes, but his gaze flickered to your drink on the table and he pulled back abruptly.

“What is it?” you asked carefully, concerned, but he didn’t reply right away. Your eyes widened in a realization he didn’t catch onto and you quickly pulled your hand from the side of his face. He already missed the feel of your hand. “Oh God, I shouldn’t have pushed you, Buck, I’m so--”

“You’re drinking,” Bucky stated quietly, nodding to your glass but you were rapidly shaking your head.

“It’s water,” you said in a breath of relief and Bucky narrowed his eyes, “the last two have been water. Need at least a relatively clear head for this job, don’t I?”

“Oh.”

So, this was real?

Bucky’s heart was thumping in his chest, so loud, so painful, he was sure it might explode from the cavity and jump right out into your lap. It belonged to you, anyway, he realized.

The surveillance cam sitting on the table was quiet, the blip on the monitor your signal to Ivanov’s safe location in his apartment. Suddenly, Bucky couldn’t focus on the mission or the sound of the pool balls clicking behind him as the men started their fourth game. He didn’t notice the stale smell of musk or the bartender grumbling under his breath from behind the bar. He couldn’t focus on anything but you, anything but your lips and he’d never wanted to touch anyone so badly in his life.

You called his name carefully, hand settling on his cheek again to draw his attention, and it jolted something within him, enough so that his hands snaked up against your neck and gently pulled you to him until the warmth of his breath ghosted against your lips.

He was breathing fast, shallow, but electricity was in his veins for the right reasons and as he gazed upon the soft look in your eye, he let himself press forward. Impossibly gentle and chaste, he parted his lips to yours, encasing your bottom lip between his own and you tasted of wasted months and longing and something stronger than the desire he felt for you, something like love.

One taste wasn’t enough for him and he kissed you again, not giving himself even a moment for air, and the soft whimper from your lips as your hands raked down his back was enough to make him crave more. He needed to hear more of that, needed to feel you everywhere, needed you to touch him where his clothes were obstructing his body.

“Bucky,” you murmured into his mouth, kissing the corner of his lips, his cheekbone, until you pulled back breathless.

He decided he loved the way your lips had swollen, that he wanted to make sure they looked like that all the time because he didn’t want to spend another moment not kissing you. He pushed forward and kissed at your neck as you tried to speak and giggled as your fingers began to comb through his hair, urging him on.

“Bucky,” you called again and he pulled back reluctantly.

The pout on his face made your smile stretch to touch your ears. You nodded to the bartender who was sending the two of you a death glare. Bucky groaned, grabbing your hand and helping you slide out from the booth. He threw your jacket over your shoulders and quickly led you to the door in the back of the bar as fast as his feet could carry him.

“Where are we going?” you laughed, holding onto the com alerting you to Ivanov’s location. Still in his apartment.

“Upstairs,” Bucky replied, opening the door to find a woman standing at a desk behind it. A whole another room you clearly weren’t expecting. 

Bucky mumbled some Russian and handed her some money before she placed a key in his hand. The grin on your face as you realized what he was doing had Bucky all but restraining himself not to pick you up and carry you the rest of the way.

He led you up the stairs, hand grasped tightly in your own until he reached the door he was looking for. Nervously fumbling with the key, he stole a glance over at you to find you biting back a laugh. The second he got the door open, he hulled you inside and caged you against the wall, kicking the door shut behind him.

His lips were on yours again in an instant, his hands running up and down your sides, touching and caressing over parts of you he kept himself from even imagining the feel of. His hands slid over curves and ridges, ripples and dimples, every part of you and it still wasn’t enough.

You were breathless, your own hands raking over his shoulders, in his hair, on his face, down his abs, and he never wanted you to stop. He started to reach for the hem of your shirt when you pulled away sharply.

Bucky froze, suddenly realizing what he was doing. It was like one touch ignited something within him and everything else became a blur. In all your concern for him, he never stopped to consider if it was too much for you. Panic swept through his chest and he backed away.

“Shit, I-I'm sorry. Do you—do you want to stop?” Bucky stuttered out awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head.

“No, God no, Buck,” you replied quickly, crossing the room to stand against him again. His knees caught on the edge of the bed and he fell against the mattress as you stepped between his legs. You pushed the hair from his eyes, smiling down at him. “This is just a lot for you, so soon, and I want to make sure you’re okay, that this is what you want.”

Bucky swallowed, letting his hands brush around your waist, tracing down the curve of your ass and along your thighs. He looked up at you, a kind of relief in him he hadn’t felt in years.

“Don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more,” he confessed quietly, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand.

Months of pent up emotions were spilling out of him at once. All this time of wanting to be close to you and never allowing himself the chance, too afraid of what might happen, of the possibility of your touch being anything other than the magic he imagined it to be.

You thought quietly for a moment before moving to straddle his waist. “You’ll tell me if it gets to be too much.”

It wasn’t a question, but a demand. Bucky nodded eagerly.

He hadn’t been with a woman since before the war and even then, none of them made him feel in his highest peak even an ounce of what he felt simply kissing you. 

As you leaned back to tug all three layers of your shirts and sweaters over your heat, Bucky was met with awe. Goosebumps prickled along your skin even in the heat of the room and Bucky was quick to run his hands along your exposed skin in aid of warmth.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the hill of your breast as you reached behind you to unclasp the remaining fabric covering your chest. Nipples hardening under the cool air and from the anticipation of Bucky’s thumbs carefully brushing against them, he watched as you closed your eyes in a content sigh.

Though as a shiver raked up your spine, Bucky quickly gathered you in his arms and tossed you under the covers. Your laughter echoed through the room and Bucky swore he never heard a more beautiful sound. 

Crawling in behind you and settling down with the warmth of the sheets over his back, he brushed the hair away from your face, taking just a second longer to memorize the flush of your cheeks and the warm smile upon your lips as you stared up at him.

Anticipation itching in his skin combined with the exhilaration of your hands along the bare of his arms, his back, his chest, and the remainder of clothes were shed, tossed aside until the entirety of him laid against you. He closed his eyes, holding onto the moment that you gave him the chance to feel something other than fear or pain, to maybe feel something of pleasure.

He kissed along your neck, not having the proper words to thank you, and parted your legs as he adjusted himself between them. You reached down between you and as your hand wrapped around his length he gasped, shocked by the sensation.

“You okay?” you asked sweetly, kissing his cheek.

He nodded, lips parting and even though your hand hardly even moved, he was sure he was going to come from your touch on him alone.

“More than okay, doll.”

You grinned as he leaned down to kiss you.

It all happened so fast after that and Bucky couldn’t give himself time to savor and process because all he could think about was your hands and your mouth and the clench of your walls as he sank into you. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck as he rolled his hips, biting back moans and gasping with each pulse inside of you.

All the while, you whispered sweet praises in his ear, told him how much you adored him, let your hands roam down his back, gripped at his shoulders, until you started to rub circles at your clit and Bucky swore he saw stars. The clench of you around him was blinding, sending rushes of heat and waves of a kind of pleasure he hadn’t experienced in years.

It only took a few thrusts before you came around him, holding him tight to your chest as he chased his own release. The whimpers of your moans and the achingly sweet cry in your voice were enough for Bucky to reach his edge and he spilled into you, kissing at your neck as he rolled his hips to prolong the release.

When he finally stilled, he let himself rest on your chest, curling his arms around your shoulders and pressing a chaste kiss to your jawline. He sighed contently, heart pounding and mind a little hazy. Your fingers began to slowly comb through his hair, drawing shivers down his spine simply from your touch.

“How do you feel?” you asked breathily, a slight laugh in your voice that made Bucky’s heart swell.

He lifted himself from your chest just enough to press a kiss to your lips before settling back in, smiling as he could hear the sound of your heart beating under his ear.

“Like I’ve been wasting a lot of time not letting you touch me, doll.”

***

No one could have predicted that Ivanov would spend another two weeks holed up in his apartment, relentlessly pacing back and forth and attending to paperwork at his desk for hours on end. Though, despite Fury’s offer to send agents to relieve you and Bucky from your posts, you both hastily declined. You didn’t inform him it was the frequent trips to the motel above the bar that incentivized you to stay.

Bucky didn’t know how he could have possibly gone so long holding back from you. It was like you brought him back to life and now he simply couldn’t stay away from you. Even sitting in that damn car all day and night when Ivanov was too active to let the two of you escape to the motel for an hour, he kept his hand on your thigh, or circling your knee, or sitting draped over your shoulders as you curled up against his side.

There had been a few times when the nights were too long and you released him from the zipper of his pants and worked him over with your hands or your mouth until he came, gripping onto your hair and the grab handle hanging above the driver’s window.

Your touch was unlike anything else.

It sent fire through him and calmed him and made his heart beat out of his chest. He didn’t once consider that your hands could bring him pain or suffering the way he had been conditioned to believe for decades. You were soft and gentle and beyond anything that he deserved but he gave himself over you to dozens of time because he simply couldn’t get enough.

Even to touch you was like heaven. The trust it took and the willingness to allow his hands, hands that had tortured and killed, to touch you and bring you to the edge of something joyous, something pleasurable, was unparalleled.

He treasured the nights where you’d curl against him and his right hand would slip under the band of your pants, running delicately between your thighs and coaxing you until you were moaning such beautiful sounds Bucky was sure he’d never be able to sit in silence again.

Even now as he sat in the driver’s seat of the car, one hand on the binoculars and the other resting on your thigh, Bucky was sure he’d crumble if he ever lost you. You were his anchor. Your hold on him keeping his mind and body firm on the surface before he sank to the depths of the oceans or floated high above the clouds. You were his lifeline.

“Do you think we’ll be here forever?” you huffed with a teasing smile, arms folded over your chest as you tucked your chin further into your scarf. You glanced up at Ivanov who was pacing in front of his window again.

“Don’t think I’d mind if we were.” Bucky smiled, shrugging, and tugged on your thighs to pull you closer to him. “I could spend an eternity here if I get to keep holding you like this, doll.”

“We can still do that on a side of the world where it’s not this freezing, you know,” you laughed, nudging his side as you scooted closer against him.

Bucky swallowed nervously, stiffening though you didn’t seem to notice.

“You-- you want to still do this back home?” He was afraid suddenly, his chest growing cold.

But the soft glow of your smile saved him from falling into the darkest corners of his mind as your hand gently reached up to cup at the side of his face. Your thumb brushed against the hairs on his beard, bringing his lips tenderly to your own. It was chaste and impossibly short, but as you pulled back, the warmth in your eyes was enough to melt the fear in Bucky’s heart.

“I want every part of you, Buck,” you said. “I want you here and I want you at home.”

Bucky bit on his lip, chewing over dried skin, because he knew what he wanted with you. He wanted everything.

“I want to go on dates and hold your hand in public,” you continued dreamily and Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. “I want to curl up on the couch with you and train with you and take you to all my favorite restaurants and walk with you in Central Park. I want it all, Buck. If you want it, too.”

Bucky could hardly believe what he was hearing. He was dreaming, he was sure of it, because he never imagined those words would ever come from your mouth.

The way you were watching him so eagerly awaiting his response made his stomach flutter. He hadn’t felt like that since he was a teenager pining after a pretty girl at school. You gave him back a kind of innocence he’d lost in his decades under Hydra. You made him human again.

“There is nothing I want more,” he sighed, a relief washing over him and he leaned in to kiss the smile tugging so beautifully across your lips when suddenly, the red blinking light of the monitor caught his attention.

Bucky pulled back abruptly, checking the dash to find it was the perimeter light that was engaged. You pointed at a figure coming down the steps of Ivanov’s apartment and the red sedan's lights that flashed as the doors unlocked.

This was what the two of you had been waiting on for weeks now. Timing wasn’t great, but it never really was. Without another word, Bucky nodded, turning on the ignition of the car and manually disengaging the headlights.

He waited a moment after Ivanov pulled out from his parking space before switching the car into drive and pulling out from the alleyway. You kept a careful watch on the monitors on the dash, checking the GPS and the communicating your route back to Fury.

Bucky followed Ivanov for nearly twenty minutes, keeping a steady distance behind him as to not draw attention. Ivanov led him outside of the town lines, down an abandoned road, and onto the off-road, which didn’t support the surveillance vehicle well. On his left he passed a cabin with the lights off.

“Where the hell is he taking us?” you huffed, pulling your gun from the glove compartment as the car ahead rolled to a stop. Bucky pulled the car over to the side of the dirt path, turning off the ignition and you clenched your jaw. “Do you think we’ve been made?”

“Not sure,” Bucky replied, reaching for his own weapons and strapping them to the holsters on his pants and jacket, “guess we’re about to find out.”

Out ahead, Ivanov stepped out from his car, a hand gun visible in his right hand as he slammed the door shut. From your positioning, he shouldn’t be able to see your car in the dark like this, even as he turned to check his surroundings. He looked straight at the car and didn’t seemed to be alarmed in the slightest. He must have looked right past it.  

Then, Ivanov turned to the forest.

“Looks like we’re following him on foot,” Bucky grumbled as Ivanov started to follow a path into the woods.

You groaned a little dramatically and Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he pushed open his door, offering his hand to help you slide out the seat. The cool air must have hit you like a brick wall because your arms quickly moved to wrap around your waist, face pressing into Bucky’s chest as he closed the door behind you.

“Come on, doll,” Bucky chuckled, starting to walk in Ivanov’s direction with you huddled to his chest.

After a few paces, you reluctantly pulled yourself from Bucky’s embrace and positioned your gun out ahead of you, ready to fire if needed. You were on a mission, after all.

Following Ivanov’s shadow in the distance through the twists and turns of the snow-covered forest, even Bucky started to feel the chill of the cold air. Ice crystals started to form on his beard from his exhales and his right hand was starting to feel numb. He was about to suggest going on the offensive to get this over with before the two of you froze to death just as Ivanov suddenly took off running.

“Shit, we’ve been made,” you cursed and suddenly you were sprinting off after him before Bucky could even warn you to wait.

Weaving in and out of the forest, Bucky followed closely on your heels until the sound of running water replaced the crunching of the snow under his boots and you pulled to a sudden stop at the edge of a bridge after Ivanov’s shadow had long disappeared from view.

You groaned, resting your arms on the crown of your head to find your breath. You winced with every inhale as the cold air burned in your lungs. “Where the hell did he go?!”

Bucky shook his head, just as lost. He narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better view beyond the bridge, but came up empty.

Beside him, you froze suddenly; stiff and rigid and before Bucky could turn and ask what was wrong, a dark voice in a thick accent behind him called out over the rush of river’s current ahead.

“Looking for me, princess?”

Bucky spun around to find Ivanov standing just behind you with the barrel of his gun pressed into the nape of your neck, his hand squeezing your shoulder to keep you still. He grinned at Bucky, yellowed teeth and a gold canine behind a long wiry beard.

You winced as he dug the barrel of the gun harder against your neck and your hands shot up to your sides defensively. He pried the gun from your right hand and tossed it over the bridge and into the river. The same went for the smaller one strapped to your thigh, his hands ghosting over your hip a few seconds too long.

Bucky’s hands were shaking. He was fuming.

“You, stay here,” Ivanov demanded, nodding to Bucky as he pushed you forward.

“Let her go!” Bucky called out, keeping his aim trained on Ivanov but you were obstructing his scope. It was too risky to take a shot. He was helpless as Ivanov lead you out to the center of the bridge.

“Can’t do that!” Ivanov shouted, glancing down at the water as he held you firm in his grip. “Not when the two of you have been watching me for weeks! My supplier won’t appreciate that I’ve had a tail and I think it’s about time I cut it off.”

Bucky readjusted his positioning, his grip on the handle of the gun aching in his right hand. He tried to take a step closer and Ivanov fired a warning shot into the air, causing you to flinch and Bucky stilled immediately.

“You don’t gotta hurt her, Ivanov,” Bucky urged, trying to keep his voice calm despite the rage of panic in his veins, “you can take me. You know who I am, don’t you? Let her go and you can have me. Imagine how much money you could get for the winter soldier.”

Your eyes widened, about to protest, when Ivanov began to laugh; a sound so harsh and cruel it struck an unpleasant nerve in Bucky’s chest.

“You think I’m foolish enough to go near Hydra?” he shouted, shaking his head, almost amused.

“If you want to take this out on someone, use me!” Bucky called out, voice shaking though it wasn’t from the cold. He met your eyes and they were wide and filled with tears, though you struggled to form words. “Let her go. Just take me.”

“Oh, I’ll kill you, too,” Ivanov smirked, “but I’m starting with the girl.”

Bucky only saw red. A snarl ripped through him before he could quite stop it and he fired a single bullet at the only ounce of a clean shot he could find. It clipped at the edge of Ivanov’s shoulder and he let out a yelp, allowing you to stumble away from him in the shock of it.

Bucky sprinted towards you, his feet carrying him as fast as they possibly could, but it wouldn’t be enough. You were unsteady on your feet from the sudden echo of the gunfire and the bullet that whizzed by your arm and plunged into Ivanov.

Ivanov, with one hand gripping onto a bloody shoulder, took your moment of surprise to his advantage and shoved you hard towards the railing. No time to react, you tried to fight back but he knocked you over the head with his gun, dizzying you as your eyes drifted closed. He shoved you, again, enough for your upper body to sway over the railing.

“No!” Bucky howled, desperate to reach you in time but you were already slipping over the edge. He screamed out, firing four shouts straight into Ivanov’s chest and chucked his gun aside as the arms dealer collapsed to the ground, bloody.

He lunged to grab you as you fell backwards, your hand slipping through his for an impossible second and Bucky’s stomach plummeted along with you as you fell into the freezing water.

No time to think, reacting purely on adrenaline, Bucky climbed up onto the railing and dove in after you.

If he had been in any other state of mind, the jolt of the ice-cold water might have thrown him into a panic attack or a violent flashback or rendered him into a version of himself he wouldn’t recognize. It might have ripped him from his body and replaced him with the soldier because it was under ice as cold as this that Hydra kept him alive all those years.

As he used every ounce of his strength to push through the water, fighting against the burning cold encasing around him and numbing his body, he kept his focus on you. The water was too dark but he reached and searched and couldn’t find you anywhere. His lungs were on fire and he breached the surface for a gasp of air before he dove back down.

It was taking too long, you’d been under too long, and Bucky was panicking in a way he never had before. The lump in the back of his throat might have choked him if it wasn’t for the dark figure he spotted floating a few feet to his right. Swimming as fast as he could and grabbing on before the current could pull you away, Bucky felt the heavy weight of your jacket and he lost all of the air in his lungs as he cried out in relief.

Dragging you up the surface, Bucky hulled you onto the frozen beach as fast as he could. Your hair stuck to the sides of your face, skin losing its color and ice to the touch. Through shaking hands, Bucky ripped down the zipper of your jacket until he could get his hands as close to your sternum as he could. Terrified of his own strength but too desperate not to lose you, he started compressions.

Every thirty seconds, he’d carefully bend down and breath into your lungs, lips pressing to yours but they felt nothing like they should, not like the lips he’d come to memorize. They were too cold, frozen, and Bucky had to stifle a cry every time he touched them.

“Come on!” Bucky begged, his voice shaking as he forced your heart to beat for you. “Come back! Don’t do this to me! Don’t-- Don’t do this--”

It took nearly four minutes before you started choking on the water in your lungs. Bucky quickly rushed to help sit you up and turn to the side, rubbing circles on your back to help you cough the water away. His hands were shaking violently as he turned you to face him. The coughing ceased but you were still unconscious, though breathing. Your lips were turning blue.

Gathering you up in his arms, Bucky quickly scrambled back up to the path. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to take you to escape this cold, but he sprinted back to the car anyway. He could blast the hot air and turn the car into a sauna if he had to. It had a tracking unit on it so Fury could send for a jet as soon as he called.

Lungs aching from the cold and your unconscious body limp in his arms, Bucky could barely keep his thoughts straight. He passed through the edge of the forest and finally spotted the car in the distance, only a fire was burning from the engine.

“Fuck,” he gaped, realizing one of Ivanov’s men must have covered his tracks.

Standing at the edge of the forest, shivering, and holding you as tight to his chest as he could manage, Bucky nearly let out a scream in frustration before he remembered the cabin he had spotted just half a mile back. It was his last hope. He needed to get you out of the cold before it consumed you whole.

His legs were aching by the time he reached the front door but he managed to kick it in anyway, not bothering to knock or check if anyone was home. The driveway was absent of cars and there wasn’t a single light illuminated in the windows, anyway. Kicking the door shut behind him, Bucky quickly brought you over to the living room and laid you on the couch.

Scrambling around him for blankets, he realized there was a fireplace in the center of the room; his first bit of good luck in nearly a century. It took only a few moments before he got a spark to ignite on the logs and Bucky’s face broke out into a smile that cracked his lips.

As the fire started to grow and illuminate the room in warm shades of golds and reds, he set a blanket on the ground by the fireplace, patting it down a few times and trying to layer it enough to find some cushioning. Once satisfied, he paused, looking up to you to find your arm hanging limply over the edge of the couch and a ghostly look about you that set a dread back in his stomach.

He rushed to you, gathering you in his arms and brought you down by the fire. Your skin was ice cold and Bucky nearly hissed at the feeling of it as he helped ease you along the blankets. The heat of the flames wasn’t enough though, not with the damp layers of clothing sticking to your skin and preventing the fire from warming your body.

“Okay, okay, I can do this. I’ve got you, doll,” Bucky started mumbling to himself, nodding, knowing what he had to do.

There was no time to preserve modesty and he’d seen you naked enough times on this trip to hope that you’d forgive him for removing your clothing when this was all over, when you survived this and he could hear the sweet tone of your voice again, even if you were angry with him.

He pulled the knife from his boot and cut straight through your clothes, terrified to wait even a second longer. He peeled the sopping wet material from your skin only to find it covered in goosebumps and several shades too close to transparency. You weren’t shaking, weren’t shivering, and it wasn’t a good sign. It meant your body was too far gone to even attempt to warm itself with muscle spasms.

Once the rest of your clothing was tossed away, he threw a separate blanket on top of you while he started to strip his own clothes. Water dripped onto the carpet below as he tossed his shirt aside. Shivers swept up his spine as he started to remove his pants, then his boxers, until he was bare. He quickly rung out his hair a few paces away from you to keep the excess water away and crawled in under the blanket beside you.

Body heat. Skin to skin. It was the quickest way to share body heat and if you didn’t warm up soon, your internal organs would start failing, your heart would give out again, and Bucky might lose you for good. It wasn’t an option. He couldn’t even begin to stand the idea of it.

So, he pulled you onto his chest, leaning you heavily on his right side and keeping the cold of his left arm as far from you as he could manage. He winced as he pressed your body tight to his, like holding a block of ice straight to the bare of his skin.

“Okay, love, come on now,” he whispered, squeezing your hair out onto a cloth and throwing it over with the rest of his clothes once it wasn’t sopping wet with ice water from the river. He wrapped his right arm around you, intertwining his legs in yours and doing everything he could to warm you.

“It’s time to wake up, sweetheart,” he begged, feeling the lump burning in the back of his throat again. 

He cupped at the side of your face but your skin was still frozen, the color drained from the flush in your cheeks he adored so much. Your breaths were shallow and he tried to focus on the beat of your heart but it was faint and getting weaker.

“Don’t leave me,” Bucky gasped, kissing at your forehead and holding you so tight against him he thought he might hurt you. Tears slipped down his cheeks before he even realized he was crying.

“Please, Y/n. You can’t leave me now. Not after all this. Please, love, come back to me. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.”

***

An hour later as your skin returned to its natural hue and the ice left your veins, you still hadn’t woken up. Bucky kept you firm on his chest, rocking you slightly, and finally allowing his left hand to hold you from over the blanket as it had absorbed the heat of the fire the same way it had taken on the chill of the ice.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried in a hushed whispered, voice broken and aching because he’d been saying for twenty minutes straight, “I’m so sorry, love. I’m sorry. I’m--”

A soft rustle in his arms and Bucky’s heart nearly stopped. You moaned softly, curling up against him like you were readjusting your position in your sleep and wrapped your arm over his waist; slight movement of your arms, the curl of your legs pushing between his is search of his warmth.

“Y/n?”

You swallowed, scrunching your nose as your eyes fluttered open as if from a long nap. Bucky swore he’d never seen a more beautiful shade in his life as you took in your surroundings through narrowed eyes, confused. You licked at your dried lips and Bucky could see a thousand questions formulating in your mind but a shiver swept up your spine and caused you to bite your tongue.

“Cold,” you muttered, gripping onto Bucky tighter and he nearly cried in relief.

“I know, doll, I’ve got you,” he replied, biting on his lip to suppress the sob etching its way to the surface. You must have noticed the strain in his voice because you lifted your head from his chest to gaze down at him, tilting your head slightly at what you saw.

"Have you been crying?” you asked carefully, reaching up to brush the tracks of tears from his cheeks. He clenched his jaw, embarrassed and ashamed, until you pressed a kiss to his cheek and your lips felt like they should again, soft and pillowy and warm. “Bucky, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“How much do you remember?” he gritted out, unable to stop a tear as it spilled from the corner of his eye, though you wiped it away before it could get very far.

“Ivanov. The bridge. Falling.” You sighed, eyes closing and realizing what happened before Bucky could explain. “You jumped in after me, didn’t you?”

He nodded.

“You saved my life.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. “You could have died, Bucky.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the lump in his throat and the flood of emotion surging through him but as you gently cupped the side of his face, urging him to meet your eye and he found nothing but warm and love behind them, he broke.

“I- I couldn’t let you drown,” he stammered out, tears welling in his eyes again, “and—and that water was so cold, Y/n, even when I revived you, you-- you wouldn’t wake up. I thought—I thought you were— You almost—”

“I’m here,” you whispered soothingly, cutting him off before he could spiral. You smiled at him, a flush of warmth in your cheeks and color renewed to your lips. You leaned in and kissed him softly, drawing a breath from him and easing the racing beat in his heart.

As you pulled away, you kissed his nose, his cheekbones, his jawline, until you settled back in against his chest. “I’m right here, Buck. I’m not going anywhere.”

He nodded, trying to convince himself and he held you tight against him.

“We should try to get word to Fury that we’ve been compromised,” Bucky said reluctantly after some time. You hummed in agreement, though you made no effort to move away from him.

“Just stay here a little while longer,” you asked in a voice so sweet Bucky didn’t even have to think twice about it. “It’s the middle of the night back home. Fury can wait until morning. Let me lay with you.”

Bucky smiled softly, tugging you close to him and kissing the crown of your head.

Touch became a kind of anchor he never even considered before you. There would have been a time a few months back where the idea of lying this close to someone, so exposed and vulnerable, would have terrified him. But now, as he held you in his embrace, Bucky relished in a security and peace he hadn’t known in decades.

Your arms wove around his waist, clinging onto him as the entirety of your body pulled flesh against him. You tucked your nose into the crook of his neck and he could feel the smile on your lips, the warmth of your breath on his skin, the gentle vibration of your hums.

The wood crackled in the fireplace beside him, soft hues of the light illuminating the room and casting a glow along the bare of your back as the blanket hung down by your waist, the heat of his body and the fire enough to sustain you, and Bucky was sure he’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

“Sleep, Buck,” you urged in a tired yawn before you pressed a kiss to his neck and snuggled in tighter.

Bucky nodded, feeling the exhaustion starting to pull him under and he let his eyes flutter closed. Lost in nothing but the heat of the flames and the feel of your body against him, encasing him, holding him, he drifted off to sleep.

Warm and soft, safe.

Cold, cold water surrounds me now And all I've got is your hand Lord, can you hear me now? Or am I lost? -- Damien Rice

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[djinmer4]

Matchmaking for the Greater Evil (4/4)

Jiang Cheng waited four months, two AWOL Cultivation Conferences, one missed visit, and entirely too many unanswered letters before he hopped on Sandu and flew to Qinghe.  Truly, it was a remarkable exercise in patience.  He sent no letter and brought no retinue but even so, the Nie retainers let him in without even an aside glance, directing him to the usual location and letting him navigate the familiar halls sans a single guard.  The same way the Jiang retainers would allow Huaisang to wander Lotus Pier alone.

He paused at the door to Huaisang’s office, the familiar rush of pride filling him.  He was pretty much the only person outside of the Unclean Realm who even knew that Huaisang had an office and that he even used it for its intended purpose.  Unfortunately, the tide of positive emotion ebbed away.  Wanyin had seen, had been allowed to see more than others but it still hadn’t been enough.  Pride souring into the usual feelings of failure, he kicked the door open and shouted, “Just because he was a rat, doesn’t mean you have to turn into a turtle!”

Fuck, that wasn’t how he had meant to start this conversation!  Jiang Cheng felt the heat rush to his face and was sure he was as red as a brick.

Huaisang looked up, dark eyes wide and face slack with confusion.  After a second, he waved his fan to the cushion in front of his desk.  Jiang Cheng gladly slumped to his knees, trying to reorganize his thoughts.  His friend waited patiently while Wanyin tried to remember the speech he had prepared earlier.  Giving up, he at least tried to remember the one he had given his nephew.  “What I meant to say was, it’s okay if you’re mourning him.  He was a bastard-”  Huaisang narrowed his eyes, and he backtracked.  “He was a treacherous snake, but you were friends once.  Even after he killed your brother, he still cared for you.  It’s alright to miss that.”

“I don’t miss him.”

“Are you sure about that?  You did the exact same thing after Mingjue died, holing up in Qinghe and not seeing anyone.”

 “I don’t miss him.  I may have missed Meng Yao a bit, but I don’t miss Jin Guangyao.  And I finished my mourning for Meng Yao a long time ago.”  The older man put down his brush and resumed fanning himself lazily.  “You know, this isn’t how I anticipated this conversation going.”

“What did you expect then?”

He lifted the fan in front of his face, only letting his eyes show above the blades.  “More screaming?”

Jiang Cheng snorted.  “I did most of my screaming in my letters.”

“So I read.  But perhaps you have questions?”

Satisfied that the other wasn’t going to seclude himself any longer, Wanyin relaxed and shifted so that he could sprawl out in front of Sect Leader Nie’s desk.  “I’m not an idiot.  I may not be as smart as you or Wei Wuxian but I heard enough to put things together without needing to have it spelled out.”

The fan lowered and a smile drifted across the other’s face.  “What about Lan Wangji?”

“I’m absolutely smarter than him,” he scoffed.  “I knew that Wei Wuxian was back almost immediately.”

“Of course, of course, forgive my doubt.  But really, not even one question?  What about . . . “ Huaisang’s eyes drifted above their heads to a corner of the room.  “Jin Rulan?”

“I’m pretty sure if you had intended to kill my nephew he’d already be dead by now and I’d be at war with someone else.  Possibly Jin Guangyao.”

Huaisang’s nose wrinkled adorably as he frowned.  “That’s true.  Jin Ling wasn’t even supposed to be there, but no matter what happened he inevitably showed up and you almost always followed.  I felt like tearing my hair out trying to compensate for the two of you.”  He glanced up.  “Wei Wuxian?”

“As if you were going to resurrect a different demonic cultivator to be your investigator.  Wei Wuxian’s a walking force of chaos and your friend, it only makes sense you’d want his help in uncovering the Chief Cultivator’s crimes.”

“I’m not so sure we’re still friends,” he said under his breath.  “Mo Xuanyu?”

“I didn’t remember Mo Xuanyu even existed until Jin Ling reminded me on Dafan Mountain so why the fuck would I care about him?”

“You’re so mean, Jiang-xiong.  Still,” he snapped his fan shut.  “If you’re not here to yell about my underhanded methods or to ask questions, why did you come?”

“Now you really are being an idiot.  I’m here to support you.”

For a few moments, there was silence, broken only by the birds twittering in the garden behind the office.  When Huaisang resumed speaking, his voice was very soft.  “I always knew you had a soft spot for me.”

“Don't act like you haven’t known for years that I’ve been in love with you.”

“I knew.  I expected you to give up a long time ago.  Never did figure out why you never moved on.”

“I thought . . . I knew you had to have a reason for acting the way you did.  You were too smart not to realize what was going on.  If you didn’t want anything to do with me in that way, I was sure you would have just rejected me outright.  But the fact you never pushed me away beyond those first few years after your brother died made me think that you had a reason you couldn’t say yes.  I was certain of that after you gave me that cloak.”  Jiang Cheng shrugged.  “Admittedly, I didn’t think ten-year revenge murder plot was it, but in hindsight it now makes sense.”

“I knew that cloak was a mistake,” he muttered to himself.  “So what did you think I was waiting for all those years?”

“I thought you were waiting to get married.”

Huaisang gaped at him.  “Wait, what?  You thought I was waiting to get married to accept your courting offers?  Please tell me how that works because that explanation is completely ridiculous.”

“It’s a reasonable conclusion!  We both know you care about your sect more than your reputation suggests and you don’t have an heir yet.  It makes sense that you’d want to focus on getting one before allowing yourself to follow your heart.  It’s what I tried to do after all.”

“So you mean . . . the blacklisting wasn’t on purpose?”

“Why the fuck would you think I did that on purpose?”

“No reason at all!”  He fidgeted with his brush a little then put it back again.  “In any case, I do in fact have an heir already.”

Jiang Cheng frowned.  “Who?  I’d know if you had any children.”

“Not a child.  Nie Zhenzheng, my second-in-command.  Also my cousin.  He’s got three kids already.”

“Isn’t he the one who’s always harping on you to get married?”

“Yes, that one.  He says he went from being a comfortable fourth in line with two healthy cousins and an older brother who were all capable of having children, to second with only a cut-sleeve between him and the throne.  He’s rather desperate to get more buffers between him and the position of Sect Leader, but that’s part of the reason I trust him as second-in-command.”

Wanyin nodded.  It was pretty clear why Huaisang would prefer an heir and vice who wasn’t ambitious but still competent.  “So do you have any other grand, overarching plans that need to be accomplished?”  He reached out to take the older man’s free hand.

“Not . . . really?  I’ve got ideas about how to deal with the Nie Sect’s qi deviation problem that I’m planning on focusing on.  I always knew I would need a goal to pursue after I got my revenge.”  He looked down at their intertwined hands.  “Jiang-xiong, Wanyin, are you sure about what you’re asking?”

“Why not? We like each other, neither of us is planning to get married, you’ve accomplished your goal.  Unless there’s something else I don’t know about?”

“Jiang Cheng,” Huaisang sighed but didn’t pull away.  “What do you want out of this?  There are things, there will always be things I won’t be able to give you because of our positions.  I’ll never be fully honest with you.  Even without having to hide from Jin Guangyao, there are things pertaining to the Nie sect that I will never tell you.  You’ll always come second to that.  I can’t even say I’ll never hurt you because there will probably be times when Qinghe and Yunmeng will clash.  What could I possibly give you that would not be better served elsewhere?”

“I already know all that; I’ve thought about this for years and I’m willing to deal with those things.  I’m not asking you to be completely honest with me or to put me above your sect.  I won’t be completely honest with you either, that’s just what it means when two Sect Leaders get together.  As for not harming each other . . . “ He grimaced and felt heat flood his face.  “At the last Cultivator Conference before everything went down, I called you a ‘witless coward’.  I’d be losing more face than I can stand if I took you to task over that.  I know better and you don’t care much but I know there are times when I hurt you.”

The other hummed a little in agreement.  “You do tend to let your temper get away from you.  But on the other hand, you did apologize later that evening.  You always apologize to me and you don’t even apologize to Jin Ling!”

“Yes, I’m working on that.  But as for what I want . . . A-Sang, what I want is to know more of you.  There are parts of yourself that you won’t share with anyone and there are parts of yourself that you’ll share with people who aren’t me.  But I want to be certain that I know more of you than anyone else.  But this isn’t just about me.  What do you want out of a relationship?”

Eyes wide and mouth slightly pursed like a doll, Huaisang looked so adorably confused that Jiang Cheng couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on the hand in his grasp.  “What I want . . .” he sighed but still didn’t separate their hands.  “The problem is I don’t know what I want.  I never thought about having a relationship.  I had my plan for Jin Guangyao, I had contingencies set-up for Zhenzheng in case I died in the process, and I had goals set up if I survived.  I have my sect, my birds, and my porn.  The possibility of getting a cultivation partner didn’t even occur to me.”

“Ouch, was I really so easily dismissed?”

“That’s not what I meant, just that I never allowed myself that kind of hope.  I can’t tell you what I want because it’s going to take time and a lot of reflection before I even have a clue.”

“I can wait.  Hell, I’ve waited eight years already, what’s a couple more?”

“Even if it turns out that I don’t want you?”

“Does Heaven truly bar the way?”

Huaisang’s eyes drifted and Wanyin knew by memory what he was looking at.  The books they had exchanged, the incense burner filed with the coils Jiang Cheng had sent him.  The large painting of Lotus Pier across from the bookcase and had taken the Nie Sect Leader two entire trips to finish.  The gash in the wall when Jiang Cheng had gotten drunk and had tried to demonstrate how he had taken down a demon to the other man.  The office was filled with mementos of their years of friendship.  Jiang Cheng promised himself that he would make this work.

Huaisang smiled.  It wasn’t the one he used outside of the Unclean Realm, tremulous and ingratiating.  This was warmer and more confident, his eyes seemed to glow and there was no shaking anywhere to be seen.  “No, I don’t think it does.”  And for the first time, Jiang Cheng stopped second-guessing himself and kissed that smile the way he always wanted to.

[turtle-steverogers]

Don’t Take This the Wrong Way

Wrote this the other night on ao3 and wanted to post it here

During their hunt for Bucky, Steve and Sam take to cuddling for comfort. Bucky sees and naturally, he's got some feelings about it.

Ship(s): Stucky, platonic Sam & Steve

Warnings: none i dont think?

-

They’re in a motel room somewhere in Tucson when Steve finally relents. Admittedly, in the month that he and Sam had been searching for Bucky, his sleep schedule hasn’t been so good.  He’d been spending his nights tossing and turning, maybe dozing off for short thirty minute spurts here and there only to jolt awake with images of Bucky in the awful looking cryo chamber from the Winter Soldier files flashing in his mind. Usually he’d give up around 5 am and go for a run, then find him and Sam some breakfast. Given the nature of the serum, he was generally functional without substantial sleep.

But now, as he lies in bed, watching lights dance across the ceiling from cars passing outside, he’s just plain exhausted.

He rolls his head to the side, peering through the darkness to where Sam is sprawled out on his bed, arms tucked behind him under his pillow. The idea had been stewing in his mind for a couple weeks now; ever since Sam had reeled him in for a hug after he’d trudged his way through Bucky’s files and he’d honest to god collapsed at the contact, to which Sam had grimaced and murmured something about his “touch starved ass”. Which had gotten him thinking: human contact-- pleasant human contact-- sounds fucking amazing right now. And he hasn’t really had any since the war where it wasn’t uncommon for the Howlies to curl up with each other on cold nights or after long days of shelling. And then there was the matter of Bucky and what he and Steve were to each other. So yeah, in those days, kind contact with another person was never in short supply. 

Steve misses it. And maybe, just maybe, he might be able to sleep through the fucking night if he could get some. 

It’s not like Steve thinks Sam would be opposed to the idea of some down to earth cuddling. He’s a pretty empathetic guy with a solid regard to comfort and a vehement opposition towards what the 21st century calls toxic masculinity. It’s just that Steve doesn’t know how to ask and it would be weird to just climb in with him, right? No, Sam also preaches boundaries and instigating a cuddle session without asking would definitely be a clear violation of those. 

Frustrated, Steve blows a breath out through his nose. Fuck it, he’s just gonna ask. He’s damn tired and Sam will understand. 

He rolls over all the way and props himself up onto his elbow, leaning closer to Sam’s bed, “Sam,” Steve hisses. Sam snuffles and presses his face sideways into his pillow. “Sam, are you awake?”

Sam grunts and Steve sees his eyebrow furrow. “I am now,” He says, voice hoarse with sleep. He doesn’t open his eyes, “What’s going on?”

Steve bites his lip, suddenly unsure, “Uh…”

Sam opens his eyes and Steve can see the concern on his face despite the darkness of the room. 

“You alright?” Sam asks, lifting his head, “What’s wrong?”

Steve shrugs a shoulder, “I can’t sleep.” He says, casting his eyes somewhere over Sam’s shoulder. He sees him soften in his periphery.

“You wanna talk about it? Or, like, what can I do for you, man?”

Steve shrugs again, “Nothing really to talk about, but during the war...I dunno, it’s dumb, just...if things were tough we’d all-- I mean, like, we’d take our bedrolls and--” He can feel himself blushing and he swallows. This was a dumb idea.

The sound of blankets rustling makes Steve look back at Sam, who’s got the covers pulled back in front of him, a welcoming, non-judgemental look on his face. Steve hesitates and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Get over here, dude, I didn’t wake up for nothing.”

Blushing harder, Steve clambers out of bed and awkwardly slides into Sam’s, who pulls the covers back over the both of them. Steve holds himself stiffly until Sam makes a disapproving noise and pulls him down onto his chest.

“I would offer to spoon you, but I can’t sleep on my side,” Sam says, sounding sleepy again. 

“That’s okay,” Steve says, draping an arm across Sam’s stomach and nestling further into his chest, “This is good.”

When Steve wakes up the next morning, he feels more rested than he has in years.

XXX

Things change after that. Casual touches become more frequent and it becomes an unspoken ritual after hard days to climb into the same bed in whatever motel room they’re staying at for the moment and crash, limbs tangled together and Steve’s face mashed into some place on Sam’s torso. 

The stress surrounding Bucky and whatever condition he might be in still eats away at Steve relentlessly and his nightmares haven’t exactly eased up, but a certain, specific weight has lifted off his chest. It’s nice, he finds, to feel close to someone again off his own volition. It’s nice, Steve thinks, to feel seen.

XXX

Steve lies on his side, jaw clenched against his chattering teeth and hands fisted in the sheets in front of him. His stomach is in knots from being held so tense and he tries to reign in the shaking, but his body won’t cooperate and his lungs don’t seem to want to pull in enough air to battle out the adrenaline streaming through his veins. 

The dream hadn’t been anything new, but the Hydra stronghold they’d raided that day had left them a little worse for wear and Bucky’s screams for Steve to please come find him hit harder than usual. Falling asleep had been an accident and it’s not even 10 pm yet and Steve wants to cry his chest hurts so bad. Sam is in the shower and presumably, he hadn’t heard Steve gasp awake seeing as he’s still in there despite it being twenty minutes since he’d woken up. Steve’s partly grateful for that, but he can’t seem to calm himself down and he wants a fucking hug. 

The bathroom door opens and Steve squeezes his eyes shut as Sam’s whistling parts from the sound of the bathroom fan, then dies. He curls further on himself-- he’s been made.

“Hey, hey, whoa,” Sam says. The mattress dips behind Steve as Sam sits down. A moment later, a hand starts rubbing between his shoulder blades, “What happened?”

Steve shakes his head, leaning back into the touch. 

“Alright, that’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” Sam says, voice even and soothing, “Can you stretch out a little for me?”

Steve forces himself to unwind a little bit and internally lets out a sigh of relief as Sam attaches himself to his back, hands carefully prying Steve’s from their iron grip on the sheets. 

“I’m here, man,” Sam says, starting to take deliberate breaths for Steve to match, “I got you.”

It takes a while, but Steve eventually calms down enough to roll over. Sam immediately accommodates, maneuvering them to their usual position of him on his back and Steve draped across his stomach. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Sam asks gently.

“No,” Steve croaks, clearing his throat, “Thanks.”

“Okay, lemme know if you change your mind,” Sam says, “Wanna watch something? I think this motel has pay-per-view.”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve says, feeling drained, “You pick.”

A couple minutes later, the intro to the first Indiana Jones movie is playing on the TV in front of their beds, volume pitched lower than usual. Sam is running a hand through Steve’s hair and he’s finding it increasingly harder to stay awake. 

He’s not sure how much time has passed with him half-dozing on Sam’s chest, when Sam jolts, head turned towards the window. Steve looks over, too, suddenly alert.

“What?” Steve asks, heart pounding, “What did you see?”

Sam shakes his head, frowning, “I don’t know, I just thought...I don’t know I just felt like I was being watched.” 

“Should we check it out?”

Sam squints, searching the window. A tense minute passes before he shakes his head, “Nah, not worth it.”

Still wary, Steve nods, “If you say so.”

XXX

When they get to the next Hydra stronghold in Malvan, it’s already ransacked. 

Smoke is still drifting up from the ruins and Steve can see mounds of rubble smoldering in the low dusk lighting. There are bodies strewn fairly consistently throughout the debris and Steve tries to ignore them as he wades into the remnants of the base. 

A gunshot sounds somewhere behind him and he glances back to see Sam jogging to catch up with him. He raises an eyebrow.

“Straggler,” Sam says. Steve nods.

“It was him,” Steve says, “Bucky beat us here and recently.”

“I don’t know, man,” Sam says, dubiously, “there are a lot of people out for Hydra right now. Could be anyone angry enough.”

“No,” Steve says, bending down to pluck a sticky note off of one of the guard’s bodies. He can’t make out what it says, but he can tell it’s Bucky’s loopy handwriting. He waggles it and shows it to Sam, “It was him.”

“What’s it say?”

Steve pulls his phone out of one of the pockets on his tac pants and switches on the flashlight, aiming it at the sticky note.

I was going to reach out, but you and Wilson seemed cozy enough.  :( >:(

An incredulous laugh bursts out of Steve and Sam crowds in close, reading over his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Sam exclaims, “Does he seriously think-- when did he--” He cuts off, realization dawning on his face, “Oh my god, that night I thought I saw something out the window in Alcaine. That was Barnes.” He bursts out laughing, doubled over, bracing himself on Steve’s shoulder, “He-- he musta seen us cuddling and-- and thought-- oh my god.”

Steve’s laughing, too-- elated that Bucky seems to be in his right mind and willing to reconnect. 

“Damn, he’s a jealous type, too?” Sam says, still wheezing, “Wow, Rogers, you landed quite a man there. He even-- he fucking wrote out a grumpy face!”

“Yeah, I wasn’t the only dramatic one,” Steve says, “Peggy always got on us both for that. Liked to say we were a theatrical pair.” He says the last part with an accent and Sam starts laughing again.

A rush of warm hope spreads through Steve’s stomach and he closes his hand around the sticky note, “He’s okay.” He says, “He’s gonna come home.”

Sam sobers up a little and claps him on the back, “Yeah he is, man. You’re gonna get your boy back.”

XXX

Still, it’s another month and a half before Bucky finally makes an appearance. 

Sam and Steve had finally decided to take a break, tired of changing time zones three times a week and coming up with mostly dead ends since Bucky’s note back in Malvan. Even the satisfaction of destroying Hydra strongholds has diminished to something like itching a mosquito bite. So they leave one last base in Turkmenabat in ruins and head back stateside, eager to be without responsibilities for a while. 

They’re about to enter Steve’s apartment in Brooklyn when Steve senses something not quite right. He frowns, holding up a hand to stop Sam behind him and looking around. Nothing’s out of place but...but...but the plant outside his door is wet? Someone’s fucking watered his plant. He points it out to Sam and they both draw their handguns, hunching into a familiar defensive formation as Steve unlocks his door and shoulders his way inside.

They both train their guns on the figure sitting on the couch.

“Hey, Steve.” 

Steve falters, lowering his gun, “Buck?”

Bucky is sitting reclined on the couch, his feet kicked up on the coffee table. His hair is short again, reminiscent of how it was during the war, but modern enough to blend in to crowds and when Steve looks closer, he can see that he’s wearing a pair of his sweatpants and one of his t-shirts.

“Are you-- did you take my clothes? How long have you been here? Did you--did you water my plant?” He asks. Sam still has his gun drawn and Steve makes a motion for him to yield. Sam does so reluctantly.

“‘Bout a week? Took you long enough to get back,” Bucky says easily, “And yeah, Geoffrey needed watering, he was looking awful neglected. Also, yeah I don’t really have much of a wardrobe of my own.”

Sam shakes his head, “Geoffrey!?”

But Steve ignores him, heart breaking a little at the thought of Bucky wearing the same clothes for all these months, “Oh. Well, you’re totally welcome to take my clothes any-”

“Yeah, I know. It’s why I did,” Bucky says. He trains his gaze on Sam, “Are you two together?” He asks bluntly.

“I-- no.” Steve says. He’d figured this conversation might happen after the Sticky Note Incident, but it flusters him all the same, “We just-- things were hard for a bit and you remember during the war, it just-- it helps.”

Bucky nods decisively, “Yeah. Makes sense. When I saw you two, I was still trying to remember if you and I were actually a thing before or if that was something Hydra had put in there.” Steve makes a wounded noise and Bucky looks at Sam again, “Sorry about your steering wheel, I can steal you a new car.”

“Oh, I-- no,” Sam says, alarmed, “That’s alright, man, you don’t have to...uh--” he looks to Steve for help, who just shrugs, “It’s fine.” He finishes, visibly forcing nonchalance, “We’re cool.”

Bucky smiles and stands, crossing to them, “In that case, I should properly introduce myself,” He extends a hand to Sam, “James Barnes but folks call me Bucky.”

Sam takes his hand, “Sam Wilson. Good to meet you, man.”

“Back atcha,” Bucky turns his attention on Steve, looking him up and down, “You been eatin’, Stevie? You look skinny, like a little angry alley cat.”

“Fuck you, too.” Steve says brightly, “Sorry Sam and I made you jealous.”

“Wasn’t jealous,” Bucky grumbles. 

Steve just laughs and pulls him in for a kiss, “Missed ya. You stayin’?”

Bucky presses their foreheads together and for the first time in 70 years, Steve feels complete, “I am now.”

-

ok yeah that’s it

thanks for reading, chiefs