#i didn't even touch harry potter or wheel of time

[mister-tom-a-dildo-lover]

You know that new anime where the guy hears his bosses porny thoughts about him whenever they end up touching? Think of that for Tomarry. I know you said you don't do porn for these, but that doesn't meant you can't make Harry experience a wide range of Tom's interesting thoughts! Also congrats on the milestone! :3

A Cherry Magic! AU. XD

Fandom: HP Ship: Tomarry RATED: M-Rated(for language and descriptions XD) TAGS: Cherry Magic! AU, Drama, Humor, Explicit Language, Innuendo, Flirting, Pornographic Thoughts, Magic(in-universe version), Homophobia(in thoughts only)

~.O.~

For Want of a Cherry!

It was just supposed to be a legend! A little folk tale that was supposed to shame people for not being sexually adventurous or something! Because, of course, people would have to put so much stock into whether or not you have sexual experience.

The day that Harry James Potter turned 30 his world was flipped upside down. His friend, Ron, had told him about that. little legend last week, teasing. him about the fact that he was still single. His wife, Hermione, who had been their friend since they were in primary school, had smacked him upside the head and told him that there was no shame in not being in a romantic relationship, nor was their shame in either sleeping around or not sleeping around.

He'd been on blind dates of all sorts over the years. Some even set up by his friends themselves, but maybe he was just really boring. None of them had elicited any kind of reaction, regardless of how attractive the other person was.

Maybe he was just one of those people who was not destined to be in a romantic relationship of any sort. There were people who went their whole lives not getting married and not having children, and they weren't miserable for it. It was completely possible to live a fulfilling life without having a partner at your side.

But the one thing that Harry could never really let go of was the fact that he was kind of bitter. People his age liked to go out to the clubs, or go drinking, or try out illegal substances. They were experimenting with different forms of entertainment and finding the places that helped them be themselves. And Harry had no interest in doing things like that.

He was probably the biggest introvert in the world, despite all of the sports he played back in school. Despite all of the events he had been forced to attend to support his parents and their business. Despite all of the dinners the company he worked for orchestrated constantly.

Harry James Potter was just avoidant and hated when he had to go places and be with people!

But deep down, he did wish that he could finally have some kind of reaction to somebody! Being, the perpetual third wheel that was resting outside of all of his friends and their romantic relationships was really annoying.

And now here he was on the day of his 30th birthday. Now, suddenly, frighteningly aware of the fact that that little tale that Ron had told him in jest last week was apparently true!

The barista at the coffee shop he went to every day had always given him a bad vibe. He couldn't really explain it because she had always been positively pleasant, but it always felt very fake. Enough for Hermione to smack him and tell him that judging without just cause wasn't good and made him look sexist.

He didn't personally agree with that but knew it was something Hermione took seriously, and he'd never experienced anything sexist save for the time a guy thought he was a girl back during fifth form.

But today the bad vibes were proven to have been legit!

He'd reached out to accept his iced spiced coffee and his hand brushed the barista's fingers in the process. His mind was instantly flooded with her voice despite her mouth being closed.

He's so hot! He'd be great boyfriend material if he was more masculine and less poof-y!

For a moment he thought he'd imagined it. But no... he'd frozen in place and as such, their connected hands revealed more of her mind to him.

Maybe I can turn him straight!

He mumbled a nervous word of gratitude and shuffled off before he could hear any more.

Harry had to find out how this worked and if it was there to stay!

Also, the barista was a homophobe. Nothing like vindication for the vibe check failing.

~.O.~

God, his hair is perfect. It just flops around when he moves and gets in his eyes so adorably! I want to tuck it behind his ear and cradle his face between my hands!

I wonder if my mom will make curry tonight.

Those glasses made him look so dashing too! I could stare at him all day.

Sandra looks like shite, as always. I've always been prettier than her so what does John see in her!

Maybe, if I play my cards right, I can get him to agree to come to dinner with me tonight. Maybe I can even convince him to come back home with me. It's his birthday after all. I'd treat him so well too.

Fucking birds shat all over my bloody car and now I have to deal with this bastard's cheery face all damn day.

I don't even like him like that but he keeps coming on to me and he knows how I feel about it but he just won't stop! I'll need to call my brother. He'll scare Ted away.

I would bend him over the desk in my office and eat him out so well he wouldn't be able to walk afterward.

Harry flushed instantly and looked around, finding himself trapped in the lift with about a dozen people and five of them were touching him at once!

A hand on his shoulder made him jump, and he found Tom Riddle, his boss, standing behind him. The person Harry was practically leaning against in the far corner of the lift to try and avoid everyone else! The owner of that delightfully built torso.

The only one on the lift who could possibly know it was Harry's birthday... meaning... those horny thoughts had been from... him...

"Are you well, Harry? Your face is flushed," he said, placing a hand directly on Harry's brow to check.

His mind was flooded with Tom's thoughts immediately.

His skin is so smooth. I want to put my teeth on his neck and leave it ringed in bruises. I'd have him sit on my face as I decorate his thighs with my marks. My tongue shoving so deep inside that he sees star-

"I'm fine!" Harry said, backing away a bit, only to be assaulted with the thoughts of too many people at once. He stepped right back into the near-circle of Tom's arms, and tried to ignore how pleased this seem to make the man who usually seemed so unaffected by everything.

Since when was he harbouring... thoughts of this nature?

About Harry of all people?!

Tom's horny thinking was definitely more preferable than a whole host of screaming minds all complaining about different things at once, but God, was it embarrassing. He just thought like that when his face showed absolutely nothing!

If we were alone in here, I could have my way with Harry all I want. Hell, I'm certain I could fuck him from behind without anyone even noticing him sitting all pretty on my cock. It's sixty floors until we get to ours after all. If I stand in the corner with Harry leaning against my chest, I could get him off well before we'd have to leave. Shove my cock between his thighs and fuck them good and hard and push just the tip in at the end- he'd be a mess all day.

And Tom's hands were just resting on Harry's waist, holding him still as his face displayed concern that did not match what his mind was going on about!

Eventually, Harry was freed from the confines of the lift, but still found Tom at his side, holding to his elbow with most avid attention. "Perhaps you should take off for the day," he suggested kindly, brows knitted together. "I'd much rather you be healthy and whole."

And in good condition for when I wreck that arse of yours.

Harry flushed and shook his head. "I'm fine," he reiterated. "I can work just fine." And get to his desk which was across the office from Tom's personal office.

"Let me know if you change your mind. If all goes well, I'll treat you to dinner tonight to celebrate your birthday."

And then take you home and fuck you good and proper.

Wow.

So, it seemed... that Harry's body could react to something after all.

It just required Tom Riddle to be the one saying it.

~.O.~

A/N: Here you go! XD

I can't believe I did this.

[Ko-Fi]

[purplekiwis]

You've got a new professor, and an obsession with his hands...

Genre: Sculptor!Harry | Professor!Harry x Student!Y/N

Warnings: +18 (smut... but not yet)

Wordcount: 3.7k

A/N: i'm not the best at photomontages so please don't roast me, I tried 😅

THIS IS A MULTI-PART SERIES. YOU CAN CHECK THE SERIES MASTERPOST : HERE AND PART 2 HERE

•·················•·················•

Hands.

His were artful,

Perhaps even an art form in and of themselves: smooth, veiny, with steady joints and capable and patient fingertips.

The hands of a craftsman - suitable for creating planets, galaxies, and even entire universes if they so desired. Both harsh and gentle, they tore, kneaded, and poked… only to stroke softly in the end.

The hands of a lover,

Those were my ceramics professor’s hands.

I bit the hidden part of my lip as I watched them move with conviction. Across the slickness, bare and sticky as they pried deeper and deeper, widening as they went and doing as they pleased.

I felt the urge to push my thighs together as I seemingly always did whenever my professor came closer, but I couldn’t because of the potter's wheel blocking my way - the one where he was fixing the crooked clay pot I had tried to make. “Next time, try using a little less water, okay? Your clay has gotten too soft… that’s why you're having trouble getting it even.”

“So less water than this time, but more than last time?” My struggle to get it right made me feel a little embarrassed, but I wanted him to know that I was listening and trying my best. He nodded in response to my question. “Okay, um- I'll try to do it correctly next time. Thanks for resurrecting my project and making it right again.”

My professor smiled warmly at me, noticing I was becoming discouraged by making so many mistakes. “No worries, I’m happy to help.” I watched him as he stood up, washed his hands in my water bowl and dried them on the rag he kept in his pottery apron. “Don't be afraid to muck around with what I've made. You're supposed to take it apart and rebuild it.”

“If I touch it, I'll ruin it and you'll need to come back for assistance again.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head. “I don't want you worrying about that. That’s why I’m here, to fix up your messes.” He sat on the stool next to me again for a moment, and when he spoke, he kept his voice low. “I want you to take it less seriously. Have fun with it — work it ‘til your wreck it. Don’t beat yourself up about it. That’s common blunder for someone who’s starting. We’ve all been there.”

“Thanks,” I smiled a little more assuredly. “I'll try to keep that in mind.”

He smiled back as he stood up from the stool. “No problem, just ask if you need anything.”

While I wasn’t sure how I got into the habit of fantasizing about my professor's hands, I did know how I ended up in his class.

I was a Product Design student.

Frankly, only because I didn’t have the grades to enroll in Interior Design like I’d always aspired to. Product Design was the second-best option that would still give me a chance of breaking into the field if I chose my classes wisely.

In order to achieve that goal, I had been planning to take a class on inclusive design this year. However, as I was about to submit my application, my computer crashed, forcing me to reenter all of my information again. Because of this, by the time I made it back to the page, most of the students had already chosen, leaving only statistical literacy and ceramics as open options.

None of those options had even the slightest appeal to me, which naturally made me incredibly frustrated at the time but, at least the choice was clear between them. Anything with the word statistics in it sounded absolutely dreadful and combining it with the word literacy somehow made it sound even worse… so I chose ceramics, despite the fact that I had never tried my hand at it.

That was why I was now behind all of my classmates, which didn't make me feel great, even though no one had made me feel inferior about my lack of skill yet… not even our professor. He was very sweet and attentive, without always being on top of me, which I appreciated. He gave me the freedom to try things on my own, but as soon as he noticed my eyes searching for him, he'd come over to check things out and lend a helping hand.

This wasn't always a positive thing because sometimes the only reason I was looking was because I couldn’t take my eyes off him. It wasn't just his hands that I kept staring at; I found him captivating in all aspects.

His hair was cool. I liked how he kept it in a messy bun and tucked flyaways behind his ears when they landed on his face. He dressed really cute too, I thought — creative yet casual, and the stubble he occasionally sported when he neglected to shave was sexy as hell.

I wasn’t fully aware of his age, but he couldn't have been much older than me when he had finished his Ph.D. in Fine Arts the previous year. In the rumor mill, he had been invited to teach shortly after earning his degree due to his extraordinary talent for clay sculpting, that had made him stand out at our university ever since he started studying there.

He hadn't shown much of his personal work outside of what he did during his school years, but I had heard through the grapevine that erotic themes were his specialty. Another thing I had heard was that because he made art under a pseudonym that he kept as a secret from most people, his work was very difficult to find online.

That bothered me a little because I was interested and wanted to see it, especially after learning that pleasure was the subject he enjoyed exploring the most. Among my classmates, I knew some made jokes about him being a pervert who had only wanted to come teach to score with the female students. My gut told me that wasn't the case, and I was miffed by those people who couldn’t comprehend that someone could find sex fascinating enough to want to depict it in most of their art without being sleazy. Fortunately, I wasn't one of them. I found sex to be an intriguing topic as well… I enjoyed having it, looking at it, and having thoughtful conversations about it.

“Professor,” I called as we finished class. I was still sat by my wheel, while everyone was cleaning and washing up. Being completely honest, I wanted to leave as well… but I made myself stay so I could make my pot look more presentable. “If you're leaving, could you please leave the room key with me? I was planning to stay a little longer.”

He seemed surprised that I wanted to stay.

I noticed his gaze fall on the collapsing walls of my pot as he handed me the key, but he was merciful enough not to comment. “Feel free to stay as long as you like. I'm taking a coffee break, but I'll be back as well.”

Finding that my professor was coming back made the prospect of staying more enticing. I wasn't expecting a lot of interaction with him, though… I didn't want to be a bother, so I would avoid requesting his assistance. It was already embarrassing enough to ask for it in class, even if he kept assuring me it was perfectly okay to do so…

Professor Harry returned to the classroom after about 10 minutes, seeming happy to find me still there. As he walked inside, he cracked a lighthearted joke about how surprised he was that I hadn't destroyed anything yet. I snorted a laugh and said that I was surprised too.

I observed him carefully as he re-tied his apron around his waist. It seemed like everything the man did attracted me. The way his triceps flexed with movement, the contours of his back, the ease with which his fingers tied the knot. None of these things escaped my attention.

“Would it be okay if I turned on some music?” Due to my dry mouth, it took me longer than it should have to answer his question. “I'm not a big fan of working in silence, but it’s okay if you are…”

“Oh, please, go ahead.” I was finally able to react, but my voice came out weird. “I don't particularly enjoy working in silence either...”

My professor smiled, then walked over to his desk and sat down at his laptop. “Have you got any special requests?”

I pretended to contemplate for a moment, but I didn't want to be the one picking the music. I wanted him to choose because I was nervous about accidentally having him listen to something he didn't like… and I was also curious about his musical tastes. “Not really, no. I'm not picky. I like most music.” That part was true, but he seemed skeptical. “Just pretend I'm not here and play whatever music you normally listen to.”

The look on his face was still skeptical, but he agreed. “Okay, I will. Just let me know if you don't like it so I can switch to something you like best.”

He put on Woodkid's Warm Core album and looked at me to see if I was keen on the choice. “This is cool. I like it.” It was the kind of alternative music I anticipated he would listen to, being an artist and all, and it made me happy because I also liked it.

“Alright, good. If at any point you decide that you no longer like it, feel free to request a change.” I was getting a little hot over how much he was focusing on making sure I liked his music. I’d always had this conviction that one of the ways to tell if a guy is good in bed is to look for signs that he is considerate and eager to please – and already, my professor was scoring points in that department. I glanced at him, and I believe he noticed because he asked, “Is there anything you need help with, or should I just let you do your thing and keep to myself?”

“Um…” I stammered, returning my attention to the horrible looking pot I was working on. I had been right the first time. I shouldn't have touched it after he fixed it for me. “I'm holding up for now. Thanks, professor.”

He smiled at me. “You can leave out the “professor” when we're outside of class. That term is still settling in for me… it's a bit off-putting to be addressed that way when I was also a student here just a year ago - especially when I can't be that much older than you, right?”

I joined him in his smile. “Yeah, I get what you mean. I suppose it's not weird for me because I don't remember seeing you at school last year. How old are you, though, just out of curiosity?”

“I’m 27, you?”

“Wow, you’re really old...” He wasn’t, really… especially since I had assumed he would be in his thirties, given that he was a professor and all. I snorted when he side-eyed me from across the room, where he’d been tidying up and organizing the equipment the students had left behind. “I was just kidding. I'm 22, so...”

His brows furrowed slightly in response to my reveal. “So you're a little older than the rest of the class. Makes sense, you seem a bit more grown-up in comparison to them.” I took that as a compliment because, while my classmates weren't much younger than me – they had to be around 19 – some still acted like teenagers in many ways. “Also, since you mentioned not seeing me at school last year… that’s because I went abroad for a few months to study, and then I had to wrap up my thesis, so I didn't come very often.”

“Oh, that's cool. Where did you go?”

“Norway, to Oslo more specifically. It's a city I think everyone should visit if they ever get the chance to. I had a wonderful time there.” He turned his head away from what he was doing to look at me. “Have you ever thought about going abroad for school?”

“I've thought about it, but I don’t know. It doesn't really call to me right now, to be honest... maybe next year.” I was really interested in hearing more about Harry's experience in Norway, so I shifted the focus of the conversation back to that. “What was the best part of it for you?”

I could tell he was excited to talk about it, as evidenced by the sparkle in his eye. “A difficult question, that. I loved the landscapes and food there, as well as the people. Oslo’s a beautiful city, and it has an amazing art scene that's definitely worth exploring.” He paused for a moment, laughed, and then spoke again, “But I guess I should say that meeting Astrid, my girlfriend, was probably the best part.”

“Wow, that's... something.” Something I'd rather he didn't have, I thought to myself despite my amenable expression. “Has she traveled all the way here with you?”

“Oh no, she stayed in Oslo. We've been doing long-distance and stuff… it isn't always easy, but we make it work.” I could tell by the look on his face that he had somewhat regretted sharing that with me. “Anyway, you should give the studying abroad thing some more thought... you seem like someone who would enjoy that kind of thing. You give off a good vibe.”

“Ha, thanks... so do you. I really like your style.”            

I saw his cheeks flush at my compliment. “I don’t put a lot of thought into my clothes, to be honest. Most of the time, I just throw on whatever.”

“Well, it works, so...” Seeing me shrug, he smiled, but said nothing further. I figured the conversation was over and got back to my work. Harry did the same thing; except he was no longer cleaning up and was instead using his laptop.  Even though I stayed another hour, he didn't leave until I did, which made me feel bad because it made me wonder if he had stayed on purpose to be there in case I needed anything. “Do you usually stay here until this late?” I inquired as he closed the classroom door.

“Um… it depends, sometimes I do, but if you weren't here I would’ve probably left earlier.”

His confession caused a small contraction in my heart. I now regretted staying for so long, especially since I had spent some of that time merely acting as though I was working. “Oh, I'm so sorry. You didn’t have to do that. I would have been fine by myself. I just wanted to practice.”

“Oh no, don't get me wrong. I stayed longer because I wanted to. I live alone, so… I am by myself a lot. It was nice to have company for a change.”

“Ah, I see...” That was something I hadn’t considered before, but it made sense. Most of Harry’s university friends were probably no longer around, or if they were, perhaps he'd lost touch with them after going away for so many months. That had happened to me with my high school friends, so I knew how it felt. “I was actually planning on doing this more frequently to see if I could improve my pottery skills, so… you're welcome to keep me company if that's something you'd like to do.”

He acknowledged my invitation with a courteous smile. “Ah, thanks. I appreciate that.” When he didn't respond right away, I assumed he wasn't interested, which made me feel stupid for having suggested it. Why would he want to spend time with a student five years his junior? He was probably cringing at the thought. That was what I was assuming, until he started speaking again after a pause. “I reckon as long as you really don't mind me being around, that could be something that works for me.”

•·················•·················•

Over the course of a couple of weeks, it became a habit for me and Harry to spend time together after class. Most times, more than once a week. The days when I didn’t have class until late, I would wander to the atelier after his class and spend the next few hours there. It was really easy to get along despite our slight age difference.

I didn't know Harry well enough to say that we had a lot in common, but we just clicked really well. Having a conversation with him was easy, and his presence was warm and reassuring.

We would sometimes work separately, but Harry had taken it upon himself to teach me the things I had been falling behind on. He taught me how to use a kiln to fire and glaze pottery, as well as a bunch of different building and decorating techniques. I liked the last one most because he got to sit next to me and help me paint and texturize. I was really proud of a mug we had made together. Harry had commented that the wavy handle I had made for it looked like the tail of a fish when we put it in, so we went on to decorate the rest of the mug to fit that concept.

“You’re a good painter…” He complimented me as I painted the fish’s fins. I wrinkled my nose at him. Painting had always been a fun activity for me, but I had never considered myself good at it. Harry, on the other hand, was a true artist, thanks to his Fine Arts training and skillful hands…

I looked at the fin I'd drawn and noticed that it was unmistakably more unsightly than the one on the picture I was taking inspiration from. Harry couldn't possibly believe I was talented as a painter. He was just trying to say something nice.

“What? I'm serious…” He assured me, appearing a little surprised by my doubtful demeanor. “And you have a great eye for color too.”

“Hmm, I find that last one is a little more believable; I'll take it.” I said before returning to straightening out my wonkiest brush strokes. I'd spent enough time designing pretty rooms in Intericad Lite to feel reasonably confident on my ability to mix and match colors so, accepting that compliment wasn't too difficult. Besides that isn’t really a talent, is it? It's something a lot of people have.                                         

“Hey,” Harry’s voice drew my attention back to him. “I meant both of the things I said. I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t.”

The seriousness I was met with when I looked into Harry's eyes made me feel emotional and flustered at the same time. “Thanks,” I smiled a little before looking down at my mug. “I think I haven't gotten a compliment on my painting skills since I was a little kid…”

“You used to get compliments on it when you were little?”

“Sometimes, yeah… mainly from teachers because I always colored inside the lines.”

“I think it's really unfortunate that we stop getting compliments as we get older… I can't really complain because I've been lucky to grow up in a supportive environment, but I know that after a certain point in most people’s lives criticism becomes the norm, while praise for rightdoing is never given.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” I grabbed another brush and continued to color my mug because the topic we were discussing was now making me feel like I might actually start crying if I didn't keep my emotions under control, and I didn’t want Harry to see that. “My parents were never particularly supportive of me or my interests, so I haven’t felt much of a difference as I grew older… I think that’s why I find it a bit difficult to accept people’s compliments nowadays, though. I tend to doubt myself and others a lot.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I had a hunch that was the case with you.” Harry’s statement surprised me a bit. I knew professors could usually read their students well, but I wasn't aware of how see-through I was. “When we first started class, I was a little nervous because I could tell that you were lost at times and could use some help, but I wasn't sure of how to approach you. I was afraid that if I made it known that I could tell you were struggling, you would withdraw even further. I didn’t want that. I wanted you to feel comfortable and know that I wouldn't judge you.”

“You never made me feel uncomfortable… I just felt embarrassed to ask for help because everyone in your class comes from an arts background and knows more than me. I didn't want you to think I was dumb or that I was wasting your time with questions that I should have known the answers to.”

“You could never waste my time. I like teaching you a lot… you always listen and all the questions you ask are perfectly normal.” He gave me a reassuring smile and I felt my insecurities melt away with the rest of my body. “And on top of that, it's easier for me to teach you since you are a blank slate, as opposed to some of the art students who come with stubborn vices they won't get rid of. Experience isn’t always an advantage.”

“You're a really good professor, Harry.” I said truthfully. “I'm really glad I ended up in your class, even if it wasn’t my first choice.”

“It wasn't your first choice?” His face pretended to be shocked, but I knew he wasn't. Given that I had told him about my goal to pursue a career in Interior Design, I knew he had to have known by that point that there was no reason for me to be in his class other than by chance. “Okay, now I'm offended, and no amount of ego-puffing will help you remedy that…”

I shook my head and smiled at his antics as I dipped my brush back into the paint palette. “Not even if I admit you're really cool to talk to and have great musical taste?”

Following my brush dip, Harry dipped his as well. “Give me a little more detail on that and I might re-consider.”

•·················•·················•

I hope you guys liked this first part 💜

PART 2

[zoesbooknook]

yule ball - harry potter

a/n : we'll imagine harry is 15+, also this is very much book harry rather than awkward movie harry

♪🤍𓍯♡ ⌞ ⌝🩰

It was the night of the Yule ball, and everyone had their dates; they were all laughing and drinking punch together. Except you, who didn't have a date. You were third-wheeling all your friends and sitting down on a couch with your feet up.

You kept shifting in your seat as you got increasingly bored. You wanted to dance and have fun, but it just wasn't the same without a date. Suddenly, you heard a soft footstep coming up behind you.

You turned around and spotted your friend, Harry.

Harry smiled at you as he put his arm around your shoulder. "Having fun there?" He asked in a sarcastic tone.

"Yeah, so much fun."  You responded sarcastically

"I can tell you're having a great time." He said it with an eye roll. "I think I have the solution to your boredom." Was that a faint hint of a flirtatious smile on his face?

"And what would that be?" You asked.

He smirked and said in a dramatic tone: "Me!" Harry placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you towards him. He leaned in close and whispered in your ear. "Dance with me."

You smiled as he led you towards the dance floor.

Harry let out a low chuckle. He spun you around, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.

He slowly dipped you and then pulled you back up, where you were extremely close to him.

Harry pulled you even closer. Your faces were practically touching. He leaned in and whispered in your ear again, his breath tickling your bare neck. "Can I tell you a secret?"

You nodded.

"You look stunning tonight." He said this, pulling you closer and resting his chin on your shoulder.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and moved back so that you two were face-to-face again.

Harry chuckled, then brushed his thumb across your cheek. You felt your heart flutter at his soft touch. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course," you replied.

"Are you single?" He asked with a slightly flirtatious tone in his voice.

"So what if I were?"

His smirk turned into a charming smile as he placed his hand around your waist. "Well, it just so happens that I'm single too." He said.

"Well, then you might just have to ask me out".

Harry leaned in and whispered in your ear again. His breath was hot against your bare neck. "Can I take you somewhere?"

You nodded

"After you, darling." He said it with a twinkle in his eye.

You slowly made your way through the crowd and headed towards the garden, in front of the forbidden forest.

He walked beside you, holding your hand. Your fingers were twined together, and your palm was pressed up against his. Every so often, the tip of his fingers drifted up your wrist and brushed against your delicate skin.

You finally stopped walking and turned around to look at him.

He looked down at you, his smile gentle and warm. His hand was still wrapped around yours, and he was standing very close to you.

"Did you know I've liked you since the second year?"

His eyes widened as you said this. He was surprised by your honesty. His cheeks turned slightly red because he wasn't expecting you to confess your feelings. "I had no idea you felt that way towards me for that long," he said, his gaze on you.

"Yeah, well..." You responded, facing the ground and not being able to look him in the eye.

He just kept staring at you with a soft smile on his face. Then he moved his hand away from your hand and placed it around your waist, pulling you closer. "Well, did you know that I have thought of asking you out several times this year?" He said it in a quiet voice.

You looked up at him and moved closer to him, putting your hands on his shoulders.

Harry placed his hands on your waist and pulled you more tightly against his body. Your faces were only a few inches apart. Your hands were on his shoulders, and your cheek brushed against his.

"Why haven't you?" you asked.

"I got nervous," he said. "Can I?" He asked, his lips inches away from yours.

"Yes," you whispered.

Harry smirked, leaned in, and pressed his lips against yours. Your eyes closed, and your heart seemed to stop beating as Harry's warm lips met yours. You continued to kiss until you had to pull apart for air.

Your breath was coming in short, shallow breaths. Harry smiled down at you. "Was that everything you expected and more?" He asked, his voice uneven.

"It was everything I was expecting, but I wouldn't say no to more."

Harry chuckled and let go of you. He took your hand and led you back into the main ballroom. You walked through the crowd together, holding hands. Everyone was smiling at the two of you.

You felt truly happy in his arms.

He smiled down at you and held your hand tightly. He leaned in and whispered in your ear again. "I'm glad you're here as my date." His mouth was so close to your ear that you could feel his breath on your skin.

"I'm glad I came, or else this wouldn't have happened."

Harry took your hand and kissed the back of it. The romantic gesture left you feeling warm. He tucked a piece of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear, then took your hand and led you back to the dance floor.

[f0xd13-blog]

Every disney tale is ours, it comes from our oral tradition just like grimm bros tales but they admit it, they never lied that it is about oral tradition tales... sooo...

i've already gone through, little mermaid (the story of a romani girl falling in love with a payo, with an outsider, that was forbidden for us in the past),

pinocchio - the story of how harlequin had a terrible time in the circus although pierrot just let him go to school right after he was born lol this harlequin ended up being abused by a g word circus owner;

dumbo - the story of ganesha, instead of having a head made out of wood like ganesha had it, but was still accepted by his family and worshiped by humans, he was made fun of, for having huge ears and a also becamse a huge victim of animal abuse by the circus, again!! Dang disney didn't liked the circus huh? I wouldn't tell that since he created circus like parks all over the world with their characters replacing ours huh?

The sleeping beauty - the story of a girl that had this "witch" like being that be looking like harlequin again, that be jealous of her blond hair blue eyes counterpart, she even made her sleep forever after she touched a dharmic wheel. Had "fairy godmothers that wanted her to marry with who she was promised with" basically they needed for her to maintain the pure blood of the fam... and that was wrong according to disney, the fairy godmothers would also make dresses that had TOO MUCH quiling like a flamenco dress does and they would even celebrate holi, the festival of colors in a very weird way almost like he was trying to disrespect the act of trowing colors to each other, it was like they were angry at each other while doing it which is really weird... what is he trying to tell us with that? Hmmm

Snowhite - she had duendes all over the place, like she knew how to fucking sing ok? Since she be having 7 fucking duendes da casa (dang). One of our myths is that a flamenco singer that has duende usally has a duende da casa (an house elf in harry potter lote). Snowhite's outfit ain't a typical outfut for the time because she was a g word and used a typical romani dress lol the mesage of that movie was: " be careful with your purinhi/senpai (the witch) she be jelous of you" that was the message

Aladdin - literally about indian culture and a jinn / duende

The count of notre damme - literally about a g word that came from the circus and dances flamenco to hearn some coins but also she knows how to fight because she be a fucking samurai (ninja in this case because she be having those smoke balls, hope they wasn't stinky like the portuguese ones from our carnival that are also on harry potter btw)

Will come back to this post later when I rewatch the rest of the disney movies.

[twicetolivetwicetodie]

I was tagged by @toooldtoship to name my top 10 favorite characters. Thanks! 

These are all gonna be comic characters (in no particular order)

1. Barry Allen

2. Iris West-Allen

3. Wally West

4. Cisco Ramon

5. Peter Parker

6. Miles Morales

7. Kamala Khan

8. Kara Danvers

9. Matt Murdock 

10. Clint Barton 

I’m tagging: @agentmarymargaretskitz @fezwearingjellybananas @trashgaryen @incendiaglacies @backtothestart02 @barryandiriswest-allen @wonderingtheblue @polyroci @stydias-westallen @yasssssvictoria @guidetodreaming @oxymitch @doctorb99 @wildcardarcana @emrysofgallifrey @wavebider @kyeklark @humanformdragon @aerica13 @firesoulstuff @sophiainspace @rinzijade @angelfireeast and I guess whoever wants to do it! 

[softlystarstruck]

✩ softly reading, nov 15 - 21 ✩

in which i list every single drarry fic i’ve read this week in hopes that you, dear reader, find a fic you like too! most of short & sweet, pocket-sized, and the art gallery is under the cut :)

✩ - a fave | 🔥 - hot | purple - reread

spotlight rec

✩ slow motion by @dracothecupcake [T, 2.3k]

He thinks about knocking on Harry’s door—about doing it four months ago, when Harry would press him into the wall and kiss him slowly enough that his legs turned to jelly and his mind went blank. But Harry doesn’t miss him, because they don’t do kisses by the door anymore. After all, they were just fucking.

why i rec this: god, this fic packs a punch in just over 2k! vina writes draco's emotions so evocatively and so real– i ached right along with him. i often have trouble with making up fics if they're too heavy on angst, but this fic is the perfect balance. the hurt hits deep, but the comfort feels like a long, relieved exhale. this is definitely a fic i will be coming back to when i want to be taken apart and put back together so, so lovingly 💕

longer reads

✩ Feather by @orange-peony [E, 35k]

Green eyes greet Draco when he arrives at the school gates, ready to start his new job as a Hogwarts professor after spending ten years in France. “Hey,” Potter says, waving at him as he approaches. “We weren’t expecting you until the start of term.” Draco is speechless. What the fuck is Potter doing at Hogwarts? [H/D Remix 2021]

✩ 28 Minutes in Heaven by @lqtraintracks [E, 10k]

Just your typical eighth year: party games, fist fights, trans rights, and falling in love. [Wheel of Drarry Mini-Exchange]

✩ Wonderful Electric (cover me in you) by @lqtraintracks [E, 10k] 🔥

I’m never so tender with him as I am when I’m coaxing him to piss all over me. [HD Suds Fest 2021]

short & sweet (< 10k)

✩ Playing Dirty by @sweet-s0rr0w [E, 8.5k] 🔥

As punishment for screwing up yet another mission, and with their magic going haywire, new partners Potter and Malfoy are sent to clean the Auror locker room, the Muggle way. Will they make it out alive? Does Malfoy ever work out how to use a sponge? Do they actually even hate each other, or is it all just misconstrued sexual tension? How long until they accidentally end up naked? For answers to all these questions and more, read on… [H/D Suds Fest 2021]

take my hand once more by @candybarrnerd [E, 8.3k]

Harry finds himself standing in front of the door to the Room of Requirement with no memory of having walked there or having walked past the required three times either. Everything feels like it's falling apart, his second marriage is failing, and he would actually kill for a decent nights sleep, which must be why the Room of Requirement provides him with the solution of a bed when Harry steps through the door. [HD Tropes Exchange Fest 2019]

Keep The Key (To My...) by @bafflinghaze [E, 8.2k] 🔥🏳️‍⚧️

Harry wants to stop thinking about things he shouldn’t be thinking about during work. He has a solution involving a chastity device, its key, and Draco Malfoy.

✩ touch me with the lights on (and my chains off) by @epsilonargus [E, 7.4k]

He reaches out to touch Malfoy’s hair, and he ignites with a lightning strike, flames searing through his body and across his skin. His chest is not full of soot after all. The other man looks at him, grey eyes opaque as the cloudy evening sky. [H/D Remix 2021]

Distilled by @itsjamethyst [T, 5.4k]

Harry walks through the halls of Grimmauld Place for the last time. Unable to forget, and maybe never wanting to. But as the Grandfather clock strikes two, the door shutting closed behind him, Harry knows that he must get what he wants, and Harry has always wanted Draco. [H/D Remix 2021]

intricate rituals, lovingly shared by glitteringvoid [T, 4.9k]

Harry doesn't like baths. The Dursley's didn't care to make the experience pleasant. Draco though, Draco cares. [HD Suds Fest 2021]

✩ Tastes Like Soap by Innerlilith [E, 4.6k] 🔥

Harry goes to the foam party hoping to finally have casual sex. Draco goes to the foam party expecting yet another night of casual sex. Harry and Draco do not have casual sex. [HD Sudsfest 2021]

break my heart, set me free by @nv-md [T, 4.1k]

Only Harry—impulsive, daring, and heartsick—can convince both Astoria and Draco to see the reality of their unhappy relationship. Can Astoria’s broken heart give her the courage to leave? Can Harry wait for Draco to admit his feelings for Harry are more than platonic? Can Draco forgive himself for hurting the two people he loves? [H/D Remix 2021]

✩ The Recondite Art of Dating Draco Malfoy by @cibeewastaken [E, 3.7k] 🔥

“You look gorgeous,” Harry breathed out, earnest. “And you,” Draco’s head dropped forward. “Are going to admit you were wrong.” (Where Ron asked the question: “Which would you choose, food or sex?”)

Which Merely That Is by @bafflinghaze [M, 3.5k] 🏳️‍⚧️

In which Harry notices changes in Draco (he’s a late bloomer, apparently), but that’s not nearly as important as the time they spend together.

Fair Courtesy by Lomonaaeren [M, 3.5k] 🔥

This is what happens when you destroy one of the eighth-year dorm beds and therefore have one less of them than you should have.

✩ Draco's Idiot-Proof Plan for Harry's Hairy Problem by @nv-md [E, 3.3k]

Harry's always had issues with his hair, but he never would have guessed that asking for a simple haircut would one day involve being kidnapped by Draco Malfoy, thirty-seven (possibly poisonous) shampoos, and a blowjob. [HD Suds Fest 2021]

What Potter Wants by birdsofshore [E, 3.3k] 🔥

Harry definitely didn't want to do that to Malfoy. Not at all. So why did Malfoy keep saying that he did?

✩ choke me like you hate me (but you love me) by @swisstae [M, 3.1k]

(it’s such a shame, though, for eyes that beautiful and a mouth that lovely to be twisted with so much hatred.)

✩ The Only Thing That Matters by @phdmama [E, 2.9k] 🔥

To be honest, every time Draco’s pictured having sex with Harry Potter, he’s always assumed he’d be the one bottoming. That’s certainly what everyone else does.

✩ Hell & Other Places by @tepre [M, 2.4k]

OR: 9 times Draco said ‘I love you’ and 1 time he didn’t. Draco & Harry are sent to investigate a haunted Bed & Breakfast.

✩ A Dream Come True by @drarryruinedme7 [G, 1.9k]

Harry doesn't know how to best propose to Draco, but one thing is for sure. He wants to wear a long white dress.

Windy City by @cavendishbutterfly [T, 1.4k]

Harry works hard at this whole journalism thing, even when they send him abroad to do his investigating. He'd just rather be home. [Wheel of Drarry Mini-Exchange]

✩ How You Make My Heart Sing by TheLightFury [G, 1.4k] 🏳️‍⚧️

You say you love me every single day, though others may not realise.

Another Way by @april-thelightfury115 [T, 1.1k] 🏳️‍⚧️

“The nightmares. How do you cope?” Potter blinked, the dark circles under his eyes highlighted impossibly in the moonlight. “I don't think I do.”

pocket-sized (< 1k)

✩ Unsubtle by Albuss [G, 993 words]

Harry has never been subtle. He’s never tried to be, either. People have called him—in endearment and insult—too headstrong and too loud, too impulsive and too sarcastic. He wears the names proudly on his sleeve, and goes on behaving exactly how he likes. Sometimes it’s inconvenient, though. Like with Draco. [H/D Remix 2021]

Classic As They Come by @isamijoo [E, 791 words]

After the war, Draco and Harry live together in the Muggle world, where Draco becomes a pianist. One day, he performs a solo in a big concert hall. His performance is so captivating, Harry feels like he is alone in the auditorium.

In the Dark by @magpiefngrl [T, 429 words]

Harry and Draco are trapped in a cave.

✩ Finding The Words by @magpiefngrl [G, 343 words]

Draco has lost his voice in the war.

art gallery

✩ The Next Morning, Malfoy Manor by @gryffindorhearts [M]

Auror training has been exhausting, to say the least, and Harry's gotten tired of making do in the tiny Ministry shower cubicles after the daily drills. He's going to prove to Draco that taking him home was the best idea either of them has ever had. [H/D Suds Fest 2021]

✩ The Teal Suit by @m4g0rtz and @pygmy-puffy [G]

A collaborative linocut print based on magpie_fngrl's dirtynumbangelboy.

✩ Amor Purificat by @julcheninred & @m4g0rtz [T]

The Room of Requirement has been infested with uncontrolled Fiendfyre for five years. Scores of experts around the world have refused to try to extinguish it, unwilling to gamble and fail. The Fiendfyre long ago ran out of objects to consume, and Hogwarts itself is now showing signs of magical and structural deterioration. Professors Potter and Malfoy, despite their youth, are believed to share the requisite power and emotional bond. Shortly after the battle begins, the Fiendfyre lunges at Harry, shattering his spell. Draco sustains the spell that will save them. [H/D Suds Fest 2021]

previous softly reading lists

[geek-and-destroy]

Wheel of Time - End of Book 1

This is post 8 in The Wheel of Time Read - see the previous post - covering chapters 49-53.

A few days ago, I started reading The Eye of The World by Robert Jordan, book one in The Wheel of Time. And because I have nothing better to do, I decided to post my thoughts on the internet, a few chapters at a time. This post talks about my first impressions of chapters 49 (The Dark One Stirs) through 53, (The Wheel Turns) the final chapter. Chapter summaries can be found here (I’m not putting links to the individual chapters, I don’t want to venture too far into the wiki).

It has been one hell of a ride, hasn't it?

Over the course of these last few weeks, I've become familiar with a whole new, rich world, understood several of its cultural nuances and most importantly, got to know some AMAZING characters that I cared about. As a kid, reading Harry Potter, (trans rights!) Percy Jackson, (Uncle Rick is probably the least problematic author ever I love him) LotR, Holmes, Poirot and all the other fantasy/fiction that one reads, I had very deep relationships with the characters and there was hardly anyone in them that I didn't like. As I grew up and became critical of things, this became a little less frequent. Reading Wheel of Time has been the first time in a long while that I pretty much effortlessly liked (almost) all the people in it. Each character has a different kind of charm to them.

First, let's get to the plot of the last chapters before getting into looking at the book as a whole.

Rand touching saidin and defeating Ba'alzamon was not only very well-written, but hella consistent as well! In the Prologue, Lews Therin's memories were slow to come back, and for that time, he was in delirious magic inertia too. Rand had it in a similar way, though less delirium, probably because the OG Dragon Dude used much more of it that time. Really shows that RJ is not messing around with his systems. Always a good sign for a fantasy series!

I honestly didn't expect the final scene to go this huge. I thought that something in the Eye of the World would confirm Rand as the dragon reborn, he would harness a tiny amount of saidin and protect the Eye, roll credits. Maybe a little bit of Trolloc/Halfman stuff. This was much better - it sets up Rand as much more powerful than the other saidin-user we've met (seen from afar in a cage), a real threat to an all-powerful dark lord which justified the frantic chase in the book so far. What matters is that now, Rand Al'Thor has been set up as one of the most important figures in the series by taking an active role and showing initiative. I can't tell you how much I appreciate an active protagonist

Also, let me just take a minute to appreciate the kind of masculinity in Shienar - the men, after returning victorious from what they thought was a suicide mission, don't go apeshit on ale and manly man dancing. They are boisterous in their celebration, but they also adorn their hair and armour with flowers. To be clear, this is the type of region which, in typical fantasy settings, has a 'martial culture' and is filled with 'hard men' and is 'not for the faint-hearted.' Shienar is all of those things, and also celebrates like this. Fucking love it.

As for future predictions, I think RJ has proved that he can surprise me. But I will still try - Rand fucks off and has a B-plot for a while until he returns due to some kind of calling. I think he's gonna meet Min and/or Thom during the course of this. (side note: HES ALIVE, HES ALIIIVE) I think in the second book at least, his arc is going to be trying and failing not to tap into saidin, then embracing his power in some kind of struggle. He's already come out of this a much more mature guy, which is sure to grow even more.

Tar Valon is going to be an interesting little melting pot. Not only Moiraine, Lan and the Emond's Field posse, but also the Caemlyn royal family will be there. Political machinations shall commence with aplomb. Moiraine has the main task of covering for Rand in front of the Amrylin Seat (did I spell that right?) while Lan has her back. I'm also looking forward to his interactions with Nynaeve. The way it ended on that front in this book, I'm expecting things to happen between them. Although Perrin, I think, probably won't stay there for long. He's got his wolf buddies. He'll be taking a nice, thoughtful walk on the wild side. (Absolutely GUSHING over Perrin's character development btw) Mat, honestly, I haven't a clue what he'll do.

Mat, at this point, is pretty much the only one I can think of that I don't love. I like him, but I think he's being set up to play a more active role in things in future books. In this one, things just kept happening to him, and unlike the others, he's yet to take charge. Hopefully, he'll get over this dagger thing and explore his royal bloodline more.

Moiraine remains my favourite character. I read a post saying she is the calmest person ever but simultaneously has absolutely zero chill. Couldn't agree more. I was legitimately scared at one point that she would die in the final battle. I know she's got a big-ass narrative target on her head by being a mentor figure in a fantasy series, but at least it is postponed. Please tell me she never ever dies ever and is forever her awesome self or I will cry.

The book wasn't 100% perfect, of course. I've mentioned a few criticisms before on these posts. Like a lot of fantasy writers, Jordan is prone to indulgent travelogues showing off his very well-built world. It's good, but it gets tiring after a point. It also seems to be, as it stands, a simple good vs evil narrative. Defeating evil is difficult, sure, but the concept of Evil is a thing. It can be done right, but fourteen books don't survive on black and white morality. What I'm hoping for (and we did get some of it in EotW) is that we get more fundamentally good but actually really bad Aes Sedai whose 'ends justify the means' ways come to bite them in the ass.

Another thing I mentioned earlier that all young women we've seen are attracted to Rand. I really don't like love triangles. I've read and watched them done well. I simply don't like them. So yeah, I'm hoping for less of that.

It's been a super enjoyable read. I'm very very excited for what happens next!

I will be continuing this series of posts, but the next one will probably come in two weeks. Never seen a Darkfriend more sinister and evil than... Midterms. shudders

[sitp-recs]

hey liv! not sure if you got my prev ask but do you have any fics that feature the boys going to therapy? :’) thanks so much!

Hi anon, I’m sorry for the late reply! To answer your first ask, I can’t say I’ve ever read anything like By the Grace - that fic is really the best, most sensitive take on therapy I’ve seen so far. This is not a trope I read very often, but I hope you enjoy these!

Touched by @writcraft (2014, T, 7k)

On the insistence of his parents, Draco begins to see a therapist to discuss his difficulties with physical intimacy. When he changes his appointment time, Draco discovers he’s not the only one seeking assistance as a result of events which occurred during the war and he finds comfort in the most unexpected of places.

The Wheel by lastontheboat (2021, T, 13k)

Harry just wants to return to Auror duty. His therapist wants him to take a beginner pottery course first.

Pure Imagination by @aibidil (2018, T, 15k)

An eighth-year tale of depressed happiness, reluctant imagination, and conflicted hope. And skateboarding.

The Business of Saving Souls by RurouniHime (2011, E, 26k)

Draco's world is filled with ghosts, and not all of them are so easily banished.

On the Couch by Frayach (2014, E, 26k)

It’s a Mind Healer’s worse nightmare to lose a patient to suicide, but Mind Healer Nick Nichols can attest to the fact that a murder/suicide is even worse. If only Dr. Freud had come up with a sure cure for love.

A Piercing Comfort by talithan (2013, T, 44k)

When Harry Potter hits the lowest point of his life so far, it is not his friends who keep him honest. With Draco Malfoy's patience and guidance, Harry learns to stand on his own. The thing is, after the fact—he's no longer sure he wants to.

The Four Doors by @fluxweeed (2020, E, 48k)

It’s been four months since Harry lost his memory. Four months of dead ends and no answers. With time running out until his memories are gone for good, Harry agrees to a course of Legilimency therapy with a renowned specialist: Mind Healer Draco Malfoy.

Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (2018, E, 50k)

When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected.

Teenage Wasteland by GallaPlacidia (2020, M, 51k)

Draco never thought he’d end up as the sole guardian of a troubled teenage girl. Harry never thought he’d end up a werewolf. Being twenty-two is hard.

Dragons Don't Know Paradise by @teacup-tai (2020, E, 51k)

In 2004, when Remus spends two scary weeks in the ITU due to complications of pneumonia and his HIV condition, Sirius walks around the house like a ghost and Harry finds comfort and strength in Draco through a chat in an online LGBT forum. Harry falls for him, but Draco has a lot of secrets and, before long, will need to come clean—even if he believes that no one is able to understand a dragon.

Harry Potter and the elusive day off by pleasebekidding (2019, E, 71k)

Auror Potter needs a fucking break. He is wiped. He is exhausted. He probably didn't intend to put himself into a magical coma but these things happen. And who cares, really? He is comfortable in a house where he has hidden away all the shit he can't deal with.

Way Down We Go by @xiaq (2019, T, 110k)

In which Harry and Draco both run away from their pasts and conveniently choose to hide in the same tiny American town. It's super.

Forgive Those Who Trespass by Lomonaaeren (2012, E, 135k)

Harry Potter was convinced he had an ordinary, if inconvenient, life. Then Ron and Hermione vanished in the Department of Mysteries. And the only person who may know where they are is a mute Draco Malfoy. Mind the tags!

The Ordeal of Being Known by louisfake (2021, M, 146k)

When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there's unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 15

WARNING: Mature scenes ahead!!! ;)

A/N: Future u, i hope ur ok

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The moonlight glimmered among the stars in the now pitch-black skies, fighting off against the bright lights hanging from above the tent. Bucky's digression to topics regarding his real family (or lack thereof, I think) never wore off, clearly avoiding talking about, dare you say, "the real stuff." But the classic "favorites" section of a date was indeed a delight. You had already covered favorite films (his was The Truman Show, while yours was Forrest Gump; but you also talked about other films that you both shared a liking to — Pulp Fiction, Me, Myself & Irene, Dead Poets Society, The Godfather, the Harry Potter series, Inception, and of course, any films that star the legendary Tom Hanks), favorite music to listen to (you both loved vintage rock and roll), and so much more favorites and would you rather and what ifs and if you weres. But you mostly talked about films — an in-depth discourse on their themes, writing, and cinematography (things you never thought you'd be able to talk about with anyone).

"Have you ever thought about shooting films?" Bucky asked.

You were now lying down on the blanket-covered ground, bodies upside down-like: your forehead aligned with his chin, and his chin aligned with your forehead, as if characters from The Fault In Our Stars.

"I did." You replied. "But I wanted to focus more on photography."

"Why?"

You turned your head, your breath fanning the side of his face. "There's something about the stillness of moving things, of people around me, beautiful people that strikes me as fascinating."

He hummed, closing his eyes. He was saying something, about how art, in all kinds of medium, connected people from all walks of life, how the beauty of it all can be different to each, and how he wished he could make one of his own: to give life to a canvas, to freeze a moment in time, to put his thoughts in pen and paper, and to embody a character different from his. At some point, you could feel him peeling down all his layers but then he stopped talking.

You respected the silence between you and took your sweet time studying his face. The wrinkles on his forehead looked like ridges of sand, ridges people would like to walk on for days, ridges that held untold stories of — perhaps — heartache, failure, and pain. His closed eyelids looked like a sleeping moon, gleaming. Almost touching his cheeks were his long, curved eyelashes. Then, my eyes trailed down to his nose, dotted with freckles, his nostrils releasing small puffs of air; then down to his mouth, slightly agape, and then down to the stubbles on the sides of his face. There was a small scar, almost concealed by where his beard started to grow.

You turned your body sideways, tracing the scar with your finger.

Bucky's body tensed under your touch.

"What happened to this fella?" You whispered, tracing the small scar.

He soon let himself relax, opening his eyes. "Car accident." He replied. "But I don't remember much of it. I don't know where it happened, or how it happened or if I hit something or worse, someone. But Tony told me he took care of everything. I haven't been behind the wheel since then. I fear history will repeat itself."

Then, you remembered all the times you've been in a vehicle with Bucky. Not once was he driving. "How old were you?"

"Nineteen? Twenty? I really don't know." He sighed, closing his eyes once again. It was the first time Bucky told you something so real — a fear, something personal, something close to home. "Hey, y/n?"

"Yes, Bucky?"

"Can you kiss it and make it feel better?"

You giggled, poking the scar. "You've got to be kidding me."

He pouted, his eyes still closed. "Please?"

You sighed, feigning exasperation. "Fine." You planted a soft kiss on the scar, your lower lip catching the rough edges of his beard.

"I'm still not feeling better."

"Oh Bucky, you are such a child." You laughed, giving it another kiss, and then another, and then another and then another, until rough edges turned into the soft textures of his lips. With lips entangled in an unusual position, you brought myself onto your knees, and positioned yourself on top of him — knees on each side of his hips, crotch pressed against his, hands on his jaws, lips on his lips, tongue inside of his mouth.

His hands found your neck, then up your jaws, cupping your face and pulling it closer to his. He then started to rake the roots of your hair, tugging it lightly, making a moan escape your lips. You felt one corner of his mouth turn a bit upward at the sound. He tugged your hair tighter and harder until your lips left his with your head pulled backwards, leaving your bare neck exposed.

Without any hesitation, his mouth moved onto neck. Gratified by the series of moans coming out of your mouth, he sucked deeper into your skin, biting every inch of your neck, making sure to leave damn marks. On impulse, you moved your hips against his, grinding his clothed crotch. Bucky groaned against your skin, his hot breath fanning your neck. You could feel your own wetness in between your thighs as you moved your hips more, Bucky's bulge growing under you getting bigger and bigger. The sensation left you breathless.

And you needed more.

You broke away from his grasp, returning the favor. You kissed him on the lips and moved your way towards his earlobes in which Bucky very much liked; so much that he thrusted his hips upwards, slamming loud onto yours.

"Oh, fuck." You moaned, moving your way towards his neck.

Bucky's hands immediately flew under your shirt. His cold hands making contact with your skin, sending you shivers.

"Wait." He said, pulling away from you. "Is this okay? Are you okay with this?"

You giggled and nodded, kissing him on the mouth to give him permission.

He cut the kiss short. "I'm sorry, but we live in a litigious society so I'm gonna need a verbal reply from you, especially that you're years younger than me."

You chuckled. "Yes, Mr. Barnes. You have my full consent."

He smirked. "Keep calling me that and I'll give you my full consent."

"Shut up already, Mr. Barnes."

He lifted the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing a cotton white bra.

You bit your lip. "If you'd told me about the date, I would've worn a much better one."

"I don't mind." He breathed, sitting up. "I like white on you." He traced the lining of the bra with his finger, together with his eyes. He licked his lower lip before planting a kiss between your breasts. "So pure. Innocent."

"Innocent is not the word to describe me." You smirked. "Remember what I told you before?"

"Hmm, I seem to have forgotten." He teased. "What was it again?"

"I'm a devil on the sheets, Bucky."

"Then show it to me, doll." He purred.

As soon as those words left his mouth, all the worries and fear you talked about with Nat all washed away. And like always, she was again, right.

It was exactly like riding a bicycle.

And you were ready to be in control, in control of a man your senior, and to unleash something inside you you've never seen in quite a while.

You grabbed Bucky's face and kissed him on the mouth while pulling his shirt over his head. Every inch of his naked sculpted upper body glistened under the lights, like dewy grass under the sun.

You kissed his collarbones, shoulders, and chest. Before you could even move on to his tummy, a strong force came, flipping your body, your back hitting the blanket-covered ground.

"But not before I show it to you first." He growled, reaching something from above. He closed the front of the tent, pulling something from above. Within a second, the lights above went dim. The only light you now had was the moonlight.

You liked it this way. Darkness made you feel safe — but it was the kind of darkness with a sliver of light and Bucky was it. The inside of the tent grew hotter, making your body sweat, or perhaps it was just the sexual heat between you and Bucky as Bucky removed your pants, as well as his, leaving you in just your undergarments.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing up against him, making him feel that you were already dripping for him, that you wanted him.

He moaned inside your mouth as you grinded against each other. His teeth pulled your bra down. With your bare chest exposed, you usually had the instinct to cover them up because they were small for people's taste but you didn't do that with Bucky. He admired them with his eyes, and admired them more with his lips wrapped around your nipples, pulling each of them softly. He then left fluttered kisses on your breasts before moving down to your belly, kissing every curve, every wave fold there ever was, and every stretch mark he came across upon.

His mouth stopped right on the folds of your lower belly, his fingers making their way on your wet cotton panties. His lips went back to yours while his fingers were circling all around you, clothed, making you wetter each second. Then, he slipped your panties aside, taking no time at all in inserting a finger inside.

A moan escaped your lips, opening your mouth more, giving access to Bucky's tongue. With another finger slipping inside, you bit Bucky's lower lip, pulled it away from him. He watched you gasp for air, listened to each moan, and felt you deep inside as he continued to thrust his fingers in you.

"You're quite tight, doll." He said. "I'm going for another to ease you up, okay?"

You nodded then whimpered as soon as a third finger made its way inside. Because you were, in his own words, quite tight, Bucky had a bit of a difficult time moving inside. He pulled away after a few moments, giving you time to catch your breath. He folded your knees, and held your legs in place using his veiny hands. He left a trail of soft kisses on your inner thighs, his teeth grazing on your skin every once in a while. You watched him inched forward, nearing your core. You watched him take delight in each mark he imprinted.

He hooked his thumbs on your panties and slowly slid them down your legs. On his knees, he ravished your body with his eyes, then your face. He leaned down, kissing you

"Beautiful." He mumbled in the kiss.

He soon devoured your pussy, his tongue moving up and down your folds, his upper lip nibbling your clit. You closed your yes, threw your head back and raked his hair with your fingers, guiding his mouth deeper. With his mouth still exploring every bit of you, he inserted two fingers inside. You whimpered at the sensation of both his tongue flicking your clit, and his fingers fucking you.

You moaned louder, arching your back, rolling your eyes at the back of your head. You badly wanted to see him, to watch him greedily eat you but his mouth and fingers felt so good that you couldn't even keep your eyes open. The more you tried to, the faster his mouth and fingers moved. It made your legs tremble under his touch, your thighs pressing closer and closer to his ears, which he didn't like as he kept spreading your legs wider with his other hand.

"Bu-Bucky, please." You gasped. "I'm gonna cum."

"No. Not yet."

With that, he released his mouth and fingers, leaving you suspended in ecstasy. You opened your eyes, seeing Bucky on top of you, his face studying you. Then, he brought his fingers — the same ones that were just inside you — to his mouth, licking them. Now, you really did wish you could've kept your eyes open the whole time.

"You taste good, doll." He said, giving you his fingers.

You opened your mouth and reached for his fingers, sliding up and down, the taste of you sitting on your tongue. You could feel Bucky weaken above you as you continued to suck his fingers. Your right hand moved to his boxers, stroking his clothed hard-on. His eyelids quivered for a moment, losing touch of his dominance. You kissed his fingers one last time and flipped him over, not wasting any damn time taking his boxers off.

He sprung up in front of you. He was big (the biggest you've encountered), and was throbbing under your touch. He was hot, and a little bit wet. You looked at him while you pumped him slowly, then kissed him, returning the pleasure. A breath escaped his mouth as your pace went faster, and faster. His body became weaker under you, his lips agape, surrendering to submission, to your dominance.

Bucky felt so fragile underneath you, not being able to regain the control he once had. He wanted this. He wanted you to show him how much of a devil you were.

You pulled away from his mouth and moved lower on his body, his large, throbbing dick between your eyes. You kissed the top, making his legs quiver. You soon took him in — all of him, which made Bucky grab your head, pull your hair, and guide you all the way. You looked at him as you worked him all the way up, then down, then up and down: his mouth was kept open, a series of moans coming out, and at the same time, gasping for air; instead of eyes closed, his eyes were wide open, looking at the unlit lights above him.

Usually, giving head to people wasn't at all satisfying to you. What would it give you, anyway? It was either forced, or just because they told you to suck them. But with Bucky, you didn't even hesitate on doing so. It wasn't an itch you were trying to scratch away. It was on impulse, an instinct, a desire you wanted. And seeing Bucky in this state gave you so much pleasure.

So much.

Bucky let out the loudest moan, sitting up straight, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath.

"I need you." He rasped. "Now."

You nodded, satisfied with what you received on his end. You straddled him, grinded on his bare dick, and glazed it with your wetness. He groaned, guiding your hips with his one hand, the other on the ground, keeping himself straight up.

"Don't worry. I'm on the pill." you whispered.

"I thought it's been over a year since you — "

"It's for acne, dumbass." You chuckled. "You can cum inside me if you want. You have my full consent."

"Good."

You held onto his broad shoulders as you lowered myself onto him and within a second, you felt his tip inside.

You bit your lip as you inched yourself lower. With his whole inside you, you leaned your forehead on his shoulder, and let out a small whimper.

"Are you okay?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded and placed a kiss on his neck, reassuring him.

You moved your body up and down, biting your lip to keep small cries from coming out, but soon enough, you were taking in pleasure within pain until all there was was pleasure.

Sweet, sweet pleasure.

You bounced on top of him faster, — god, he felt so big and so good in you — skin slapping on skin, echoing against the thin sheets, with his lips on yours, then on your neck, then on your breasts; his hands on your jaw, on your neck, your breasts (sometimes, together with his lips), on the small of your back, on your hips, then on your ass.

"Oh god, you feel so fucking good." Bucky said, kissing your skin as you kept on bouncing on top of him. "But it's my turn, babydoll."

You moaned at the nickname, making your body frail to move and then the next thing you knew, you were flipped over, with Bucky on his knees, thrusting faster, then deeper as he inched forward, your chests pressed together. Your fingers clawed on his back, his hot breath on your neck, your breath on his ear where he could hear you moaning his name.

"That's right." He whispered, kissing your neck. "Say my name."

You wrapped your legs around his waist (a kind of intimacy you had never done before), and with it, pulled him closer, deeper, giving you an astounding pleasure, making your whole body tremble under him, getting you higher and higher on staggering ecstasy, and sending you over your edge.

You cried out his name one last time, feeling your white juices come on his dick, mixed with his inside you.

"My god," he whispered, "I think I could never get enough of you."

"You just read my mind, Mr. Barnes."

"Hey, I feel a whole lot better now." He winked.

You chuckled.

You caught each others' breaths, kissing one last time before he removed himself from you, and laid down beside you where he wrapped his arms and legs around you, your head on his chest. You weren't the one to cuddle but at that moment, your body, frail and vulnerable, gave in. You didn't want to fight it, anyway. You were both surrounded with each others' pool of sweat but it didn't matter.

You were bathing in bliss.

In this bliss he had given you.

"You're not gonna kick me out the next morning, are you?" You asked, half-joking, scared that you'd be in the same position as that of the woman from before.

"No, doll." He replied, "you have my word," then kissed your forehead.

Bucky pulled you closer, his chin on top of your head. You listened to his heartbeat slow down every five seconds, giving you a rhythm you soon fell asleep to.