#i fucking love oneshot

[shittysomethingwickeddaily]

Day 7 - OneShot

[starry-bi-sky]

mmmmmm read a disciple shen yuan/shizun luo binghe fanfic about two days ago where the first chapter was the Immortal Conference arc, and SQQ was the one who had to be pushed into the abyss (he was still the villain) except Luo Binghe was refusing and was like, lowkey losing his mind about SQQ being so close to the edge. SQQ ended up having to be the one to fall in himself because of the system's punishment system. The rest of the fic is leading up to that moment. But like, MMM i've been obsessively thinking about that first chapter for DAYS ever since.

now i've been in svsss for a grand total of *checks watch* a week. but god obsessed with that. I want to write/read a fic where disciple SQQ goes a little nuts down there. Like keep all of the things that make SQQ, SQQ, but just. Throw in a little bit more trauma in there. A little bit of a mental break. Let him go a little nuts as a treat. Just a tad unhinged. I wanna see him go, just a little, "god fuck it, i've tried so hard to change this shitty story's outcome and it feels like everything i've done has been for nothing. I'm going to die in this world no matter what I do, I've been doomed from the start, so might as well die the way I want to." and he just, breaks a little! Under all the stress.

He still retains the traits that makes shen yuan, shen yuan, like his overwhelming kindness. But he's just! yk. A little less patient. Paranoid. Jumpy. Colder. A little more aloof and closed off. A little more Shen Jiu. He's no asshole child abuser, but he was a Number One Hater in his past life and he's leaning into that old habit a little more now.

(On a totally coincidental not-at-all related note, there's not enough SJ-and-SY-are-the-same-people fics out there that i've found. This is totally unrelated...)

The Endless Abyss turns the mind into an over-sharpened blade, and SQQ is both fascinated and perhaps a little excited to explore a place that doesn't have a lot of info on it in the mortal realm, but still terrified out of his mind. And he's no Luo Binghe, he doesn't have the sheer brute strength and power to just bulldoze his way through, so he has to be a lot more sneaky and cunning if he wants to survive.

The fic itself role-swapped LBH and SQQ so that SQQ was the half-demon (which lowkey fucks) and LBH the human, but I'm equally-if-not-more obsessed with the idea that LBH remains the half-heavenly demon and SQQ the human. If only because I keep thinking about SQQ befriending some demons (particularly and specifically a group of succubi) and they grow very attached to this Human Cultivator so through magic plot stuff they create some kind of seal/illusion/talisman that makes SQQ appear as a demon because a human cultivator in the endless abyss may as well be the equivalent of putting a giant neon target on your back.

And iirc Shen Jiu was taught demonic cultivation by that one guy(?? i've only been here a week so im not caught up in ALL of the lore yet) so that could totally happen here.

(On the other end of the realms, poor Shizun Luo Binghe is just. losing his fucking mind over losing his most precious and beloved disciple. About .5 seconds from burning down the peaks himself. somebody sedate him.)

The Endless Abyss sucks and SQQ is having a really terrible time and can feel himself going lowkey mad, but also holy shit look at all this WORLD-BUILDING. look at all this flora and fauna, and oh if he had the equipment for it he'd be writing all of this down. ALL OF IT. He was kinda-sorta-already planning on never leaving the Abyss as some sort of fucked up self-exile and self-preservation thing, but now he might? actually just?? never leave if he can help it, like he lowkey likes it down here.

anyways the next time anyone ever sees SQQ again he's got hair so long its almost touching the ground and he's either in rags and half-feral or he's been completely dolled up by his adoptive succubi sisters and still about three seconds from biting anyone who tries to touch him. (he's also lowkey trying to book it back down to the abyss even if he has desperately missed all of his friends and shizun)

[1000plants]

Holidays - Thanksgiving

Bucky Barnes x reader (GN)

Summary: Holiday drabble with one of my favorite super soldier boys <33333 

Warnings- Alcohol/drinking/intoxication, Soft!Bucky (a warning bc oh god I love him hes a cutie patootie) 

Word count- 1.8k

Author's Note- consider this a little gift, my little heathens. Hope you enjoy! All feedback is appreciated!

Masterlist

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“Aaannnnd… is that your second or third drink of the day?” Bucky casually teases as he slides next to where you sat. His voice was low and quiet, a metaphorical bucket of cold water over your alcohol induced overheating brain.

You dryly laugh, lips pressed thin as you stare at the spiked lemonade in your hand. It had honestly lost its flavor at this point, but it was the only thing getting you through the day. You clear your throat as you turn in your seat to face Bucky, the two of you sitting at the bar that Tony insisted be fully stocked for the holiday season. Bucky was leaning his back against the edge of the counter, his right elbow propped up as it loosely held a beer.

He looked as calm as you wished you felt. How he did it you would never know. He seemed so carefree, unbothered, bored.

“Third.” You bluntly reply, sucking in a sharp breath through your teeth. Your head was feeling a little fuzzy, but it was a more welcomed sensation than talking with the numerous people that had shown up today. 

Before the upcoming Thanksgiving day celebration, Tony was throwing a “simple” party. Less intense than his normal ragers, but still requiring a lot of socializing. It was only about one p.m., but there were over forty people milling about the main floor of the tower. SHIELD agents, Tony's workers, the other Avengers, Fury and Hill… There were too many people, in your humble opinion.

“Mmm,” Bucky hummed in acknowledgement, taking a healthy swig of his beer as he arched his eyebrows briefly, “same.”

He was doing a better job at involving himself in the festivities. You hated these things. Sure, Christmas was fun, and meeting up and reconnecting with friends was always nice… But Thanksgiving seemed tedious and unnecessary. 

You couldn't help the snort that came from your nose nor the grin on your lips as you glanced from Bucky to the rest of the people in the room. They all added to the noise of the room, even the alcohol wasn't silencing them in your head.

“Really?” You ask incredulously, not bothering to hide the shock in your tone or on your face. Though, in honesty, it might've been the buzz that made it impossible to hide, “You could've fooled me. Didn't take you as a day drinker.”

Bucky chuckled, baring his teeth slightly as he sat down his mostly empty bottle, “I’m… not. Not normally,” he admits, sighing as he rubs his chin.

You were always drawn to how dazzling he looked. Was dazzling even the right word? Your brain seemed to shut down every time Bucky talked to you. He was softer than anyone could've prepared you for. Speaking quietly of novels he read, silently paying for someone else's coffee, watering the plants around the tower when their owners were away. 

The man was silent, as always, but it was never malicious. And, God… that was a dazzling thing to be.

“I'm just sick of,” He gestured vaguely to the chattering people. Since now you were talking with Bucky, you had felt Steve's worried gaze leave you. His stare at your lonesome form had been suffocating.

It was no secret you didn't enjoy these gatherings. It was an odd limbo: loving the tiny parties and the massive ones… but hatting these mild ones. Always just a handful of people you don't know, and they are always too intimate for comfort. 

It might've also been part of the reason Tony and Steve let you start drinking so early in the day…

“This. Yeah,” You finish his sentence for him, nodding a bit as you suck in a deep breath, “I was never one for the holidays.”

You shrug, turning in your barstool to face out towards the others a bit more. Though, you were still angled towards Bucky. Subconscious, you'd claim. Not purposeful.

“Mhm, couldn't have guessed,” Bucky gruffly replies, the smirk tugging on his lips was enough of a signal he felt similarly. He ran his tongue over his lower lip, chasing the lingering taste of his beer. You wished momentarily you hadn't drank so much, your reaction time of looking away before he noticed was slower.

“Not all holidays,” You quickly clarify, averting your gaze to firmly fixate on a SHIELD agent you had met once or twice. Shaun? You think his name might be Shaun… Swallowing tensely as you knew he caught you staring. It was just a moment, you ration, and nothing more.

You shrug, trying to seem as calm as he was, “I like Christmas, y'know? Snow an’ gifts an’ shit like that. Halloween is also a lot of fun… But Thanksgiving?”

The sigh that escaped your lips was more like a puff of air. Catching snippets of others' conversations. 

Oh, yes, the data we gathered… Some random agent drones on to Bruce.

Now, Pepper - love the woman - needs to let me get ten more… Tony loudly chatted up Maria Hill

Steve and Natasha were a bit more hushed with their conversation, but you heard getting better… talking… 

You roll your eyes, figuring they were talking about your lack of participation in the day's festivities. You glance to your left to catch Bucky's gaze. How long had he been looking at you? His face had softened. Everyone said he looked angry all the time, but you didn't see that. He looked tired at worst, and at best, hopeful. 

You swallow thickly, he was just looking at you because you were talking, “It's too much interaction, too many people and the food sucks.”

Bucky dramatically let his jaw drop open, as if you just disavowed the Avengers or something. His eyes sparked, the deep blue color more prominent as they widened to the size of dinner plates.

“I'm sorry?! Did you say the food sucks?” Bucky asks with a scoff. He has a wide, boyish grin on his face. A grin that you'd never think he'd bear, but it also seemed completely natural.

Bucky finally maneuvered  to sit on the stool next to you, turning his body so he was fully facing you. You couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up at his slightly childish antics. The laugh caused a small burp to also threaten to make an entrance. You stifle it as you push your spiked drink a bit further away from you. Getting drunk on Bucky Barnes was a hundred times more powerful than whatever drink Tony could concoct for you.

“Thanksgiving quite literally has the best food!” He chirps. His eyes narrowed playfully as he crossed his arms over his chest, he was obviously not letting you get away with your crime of an opinion.

“Ugh, no it doesn't. It's all so specific, I can't get behind any of it!” You bemoan, allowing your body to turn towards him as well. Though you don't let your eyes linger on him for too long. The blush on your cheeks may be excusable by alcohol for a while, but not forever.

“Turkey,” He puffs out his chest, “quite literally a classic!” Bucky starts strongly. Quirking up an eyebrow. 

“I prefer ham, turkey is dry and not interesting. I'd rather have chicken, honestly.” You reply with a chuckle. If someone told you Bucky was being paid off by Big Turkey to promote Thanksgiving, you'd fully believe it. This man looked ready to go to hell and back to defend the holiday.

“Potatoes?” He quickly counters, leaning forward slightly.

“I can eat those whenever I'd like.” You retort just as swiftly. Though you both may be a little buzzed (you more than him), you could still hold your own when it came to quick comebacks.

“Pies?!” Bucky studies you like a colorful bird at the zoo. His hands resting on his knees as he inspects your face and words.

You laugh again, a grin now firmly planted in your face at how jokingly offended he is, “These store bought things have nothing over what I could make from scratch.” you boldly say, straightening your back and sitting taller.

You partially expected him to deny or refute your baking skills, but he only pushes forward, 

“What about cranberry sauce?” He asked with more skepticism, knowing he already went through the big three and you had already pushed them all away. 

You shoot him a flashy grin, whether you actually liked cranberry sauce or not… “Mh, well, you've got me there.”

A beat of stunned silence. 

You swore Bucky went through all of the stages of grief in that moment. 

“WHAT?!” He cried out, voice cracking slightly. He was loud enough that a few wandering eyes had been alerted to the two of you.

You couldn't help yourself from bursting into a fit of laughter. It was a laugh that made your face hurt, you didn't care that others were looking, all you cared about was the man sitting across from you.

Bucky's shock very quickly matched your laughter. He was laughing so hard that he doubled over. Clutching his stomach as he wheezed. You both must've looked ridiculous, going from the two quiet people at the bar to now the loudest two laughs. 

Bucky came up for air after a moment, quiet giggles still making his chest shake as he wiped away a small tear.

The pride in your chest swelled, you wanted nothing more than to make him laugh like this all the time. To see him smiling forever.

It took a few minutes for the two of you to calm down. Every time you made eye contact, one of you would burst into another small fit of laughter.

After you had recovered, you both fell into a comfortable silence. You were grateful he lingered, that he stayed even when the conversation seemed to have ended. He never made you feel left out, even if his inclusion was the two of you being outcasts together. He stayed by your side, a silent yet constant person in your corner.

“Well, my favorite holiday isn't Thanksgiving, either.” Bucky finally says, finishing off his beer as he stands up from his seat. He murmured something about needing to piss.

“What is it then?” You grab your own, partially forgotten, drink. The ice had melted slightly, but you didn't care.

“Christmas.” Bucky simply stated, taking a step away from the bar. You want to prod more, but you doubt he really has a sappy attachment to the holiday. Who wouldn't like free gifts and all the decorations?

“Mostly the mistletoe, though,” He adds, turning to look at you for just a moment as he winks.

You don't even have time to process what he just said, or even implied before he walked away. But, goddamn were you glad he did…

Because once Steve's eyes were on you again, you were blushing bright red and staring at your cup, smiling like a dope.

Maybe… maybe Thanksgiving wasn't such a bad holiday after all.

[zivazivc]

my brainrot about these two can be measured in liters

[hearts4golbach]

Friday Night Lights.

kinktober day two: uniform.

"Look at you. Getting your uniform all dirty just for me, yeah?"

pairing:

Revenge!Gerard Way x Fem!Reader.

a/n:

Can you tell I've been in cheer? (sarcasm, but I have.)

kinda proofread

warnings:

smut, pet names (sugar, angel, good girl, pretty girl) choking— if you squint, unprotected sex, semi-public, riding,

word count:

1.7k

. . .

"Defense, attack!" You cheered from the sidelines, waving your pom's around. "Sack that quarterback!" Your short cheer skirt barely covered your ass as you jumped around. It was only a few seconds before you returned to your plastered position facing the field.

Your boyfriend, Gerard, always went to the football games. No, he didn't like nor enjoy sports, but he always wanted to support you in every way he could. So, there he was, watching you intently as you cheered for your schools football team (which wasn't even that good, honestly).

Frank sat next to him. He seemed to be somewhat interested in what was going on below. Did he know anything about football? Of course not. Gerard figured he just liked to watch men throw around balls and tackle each other.

Anyway, Gerard always believed green was your color, especially after seeing how perfectly your white and green uniform complimented you. He could barely take his eyes off of you. The two piece hugged you perfectly. Frank had to snap Gerard out of a trance multiple times just to talk to him.

There was something different about that game. Maybe it was the way you flipped your headache-high ponytail or the way you held eye contact the entire time you were cheering. What he did know was that he could barely wait until the game was over.

"Go! Fight! Go, fight, win!" You whipped around to continue the cheer. Your gaze soon fell on Gerard. You shook your pom's with enthusiasm, ending the cheer with a kick. He shot you a wink, smirking he watched your face glow red.

"You're going to need to catch another ride home, Frankie." Gerard explained.

"I fuckin' knew it," He rolled his eyes, "I'll just call Ray, dick." He muttered under his breath. "I'm gonna go get food."

"You do that." Gerard teased.

It was finally quarter 4. Gerard's leg shook impatiently. He only looked away from you whenever Frank came back with greasy stadium food. You caught his attention again when you started counting off the points on the scoreboard. The whole team began counting all the way to 35, ending with you doing the final kick. Gerard couldn't help but marvel at how flexible you were. His mind began to wonder once more before the flashing lights signifying a touch down began, to which you began cheering once more. A soft smile creeped onto Gerard's face.

Eventually, the game ended. Gerard pushed his way through the crowd of grinning teenagers to get to you. He met you at the barricade and you immediately intertwined your fingers with his.

"You were amazing, as always." Gerard gushed, placing a kiss on your temple as the two of you made your way out of the stadium. "wanna go get somethin' to eat, sugar?"

You simply nodded, cuddling into his side to avoid the other teens surrounding you. With the cold October winds, the heat radiating from him helped you warm up. Not to mention, your uniform barely covered anything.

Gerard wrapped his leather jacket around your shoulders. You blushed as his hand trailed down to your waist, slowly moving down to your hip. Any small move made by gerard still made you weak in the knees.

His fingers teased the hem of your skirt, which was shielded from the public by his jacket. Gerard knew exactly what made you tick.

"Gee," you whispered in attempt to grab his attention.

He hummed in response, continuing to drag you out to the car. The anticipation had you soaked. You climbed into the passenger seat, attempting to be secretive about how aroused you were as you crossed your legs. Of course he knew. Gerard could read you like a book.

His hand rested gently on your upper thigh as he drove. His thumb needed your soft, exposed flesh. "I was thinking we should go to [favorite fast food restaurant]. We can get it to go and I'll take you home. How does that sound, angel?"

You cleared your throat in an attempt to ground yourself. Your thoughts were everywhere but the present moment. You simply nodded and glanced over to see a small smirk plastered on his face.

He pulled into the drive through and ordered, because why wouldn't he have your order memorized?

"Y'know what, Gee? Maybe we should go find somewhere to park and eat. I don't really want to go home yet." You readjusted once more.

"Of course," He placed a kiss on your forehead before collecting the food.

He took you to your guys' spot, the one you two always went to to 'hang out.'

Even though Gerard had a really shitty car, the back seats went down so you two had a comfortable area in the back to sit.

You climbed into the back and Gerard followed with the food. You cuddled up next to him and ate in silence. Gerard poured about how well you did and sarcastically ranted about how Frank 'ruined his overall experience.' You knew he was joking. Kinda.

You laid on his chest. Both of you had finished eating and you were complaining about the extensive conditioning you had to do for cheer. Once it was silent again, Gerard turned your head so that you were looking at him. "Y'know, you're so gorgeous." He smiled down at you before pressing his lips onto yours.

You returned the kiss with more intensity. Without hesitation, he moved you so that you were in his lap. Your hands trailed up his chest and you tugged at his hair, eliciting a moan from him.

Seeing as he couldn't get his hands up your top, (it was too tight for your own good, but that fact turned him on further,) he settled on slowly moving his hands up your thighs and under your skirt. He scrunched it around your waist, leaving your spanks exposed.

He gripped your ass, grinding you down onto his already hard, clothed cock. "Someone's impatient," you teased, kissing along his jawline.

He grunted in response, regaining control. You hurriedly unbuttoned his jeans, making him giggle. "Now who's impatient?" His cock sprung out of his boxers. He hissed as he felt the chilly autumn air. He pulled down your spanks, pulling your panties off with them as he muttered, "you're so pretty, angel."

"Prove it," you challenged, making him roll his eyes before smirking up at you mischievously.

"You want me to prove it?" He asked between kisses. It was almost rhetorical, the way he questioned you. He gripped your neck to pull you closer. "Why don't you ride my cock like the good girl you are and I will."

You caved under his gaze, nodding eagerly. He hummed in approval and slid his hand up to your mouth. You spit on his hand, allowing him to lube up his throbbing dick with your saliva. You let out soft moans as he ran his tip along your entrance. "Gee- please," he slipped inside of you without warning, making you cry out as he stretched you open. He dug his fingers into the sensitive flesh of your hips as you began to move.

Gerard moaned, "look at you. Getting your uniform all dirty just for me, yeah?" You sat on his cock, allowing his tip to brush against your g-spot.

You bit down on your lip, letting out a high pitched moan in response. "Oh, shit, Gee.."

"Hmm," he hummed. His hips thrusted up in time with your movement as you continued to bounce on his cock.

He let out choked off moans. He reached down to rub circles on your clit with his thumb as strings of moans and curses escaped your lips. His hand trailed up to your chest, kneeling your breast through your uniform. He moved his hands back down to your waist and began to kiss along your neck. You squeezed your eyes shut as all you could hear was Gerard's moans and groans.

"Always so goddamn tight for me, sweetheart. You look so fuckin' good like this," he began to move you faster. You dropped your head as you let out a moan. He brushed your g-spot with each thrust, making your walls clench around him.

"Oh fuck, don't stop!" You squeeled as he sucked dark hickeys into your neck. It took him no time to find your sweet spot. He relished the noise you made whenever he gently sunk his teeth into your neck.

He pulled you back to his mouth and kissed you passionately. The two of you breathed heavily into the kiss as the pace never slowed. You bit down on his lip, making a low whimper escape from his lips. He pulled away from you and admired how hot you looked on top of him. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of you. He smirked, letting out a breathy chuckle. "I love the way your thighs shake," he kissed along your jawline. "Just wait til i'm done with you. We might have to skip school tomorrow."

You couldn't help but laugh as the car began to get stuffier by the second. "Gee- 'm so close.."

"Yeah? Tell me who's pussy this is, pretty girl. Then, I'll let you cum." A smug smirk was plastered on his face as he rubbed your clit with quick motions.

You jolted at the sensation, making you want to scream. "Fuck- yours! I'm yours, Gee!"

He hummed in approval. He peppered your face in neck in kissed, "cum for me," he demanded in between.

You collapsed onto his chest as you felt your walls spasm around his cock. He helped you ride out your orgasm, gripping your ass and moving you up and down with slow movements. He released his seed deep inside of you. The car was filled with heavy breaths and the smell of sex.

Gerard let out a low sigh, "fuck, I love you." He placed a kiss on your forehead before pecking your lips.

"I love you," you mumbled against his lips. "Stay the night?" You pulled back to make eye contact with him.

"Of course."

[cowchickenbeefpork]

Does anyone else get "mother who hates her daughter because she sees all the parts she hates in herself in her daughter" and "daughter hating herself because she's becoming just like her father" vibes within lestat and Claudia? No? Okay....

[asimpforthe80s]

Desperate times

[Blurb?]

:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;

Warnings: fingering, humping, eating pussy, names (baby, darling, mommy, eds), cumming in boxers, aftercare, slightly needy Eddie, nap

It had been about a week since Eddie last saw you. A week without sloppy making out and a week without sex. God, it was a nightmare for him.

So, as soon as you entered that damn trailer door, he grabbed you and hurried you into the bedroom. The look in his eyes was desperate and a deep lust.

He was quick with undressing you, ripping some of your clothes in the process. He pressed sloppy kisses along your jaw and down your chest until he reached what he wanted. You didn't feel it, but you knew he was rock hard inside his tight jeans and boxers.

Quickly ripping off your panties, he immediately started lapping at your cunt. Sticking 2 fingers inside your entrance, he thrusted them inside you until he found that one spongey spot inside you.

You arched your back as he repeatedly massaged your g-spot, working quickly to make you cum.

As he massaged your spot, he sucked on your clit and groped your tits. He seemed desperate to taste your cum on his tongue.

Luckily for him, his fingers and tongue were both incredibly skilled at making you feel pure bliss and ecstasy.

Though, this time was different. White filled your vision as you went into a state of bliss. Eddie worked you through your orgasm as you went into subspace.

After a few minutes, you came back to reality and noticed Eddie desperately humping your thigh. "Sorry, baby.. you've just.. been gone for WAY too long." He groaned between subby moans and whimpers.

He groaned and whimpered as he picked up his speed, looking like he wasn't too far away from cumming. You understood that you had been away for longer than you thought, so you let him.

He was just like that sometimes. Switching from a dom to a sub after you've come for him. You were pretty used to it by now. And it was so hot to see, too.

What did surprise you was what happened when he came. "Mommy." He moaned as he came inside his boxers, collapsing on top of you and panting heavily.

You snuggled close to him as he came down from his high. The two of you had missed each other like hell, even though it had just been a week. So you just held him close and made sure he was comfortable.

"Love you.. so, so much, Eds." You said, kissing his cheek and running your hands through his long, messy curls. "Love you too, baby. I was going nuts. You know that, right? I missed you so damn much."

You nodded. "Yeah, I know, darling.. sorry I didn't tell you I was gonna come home so late." You murmured, smiling down at him as he laid his head against your chest. "It's okay. Sorry if I seemed needy. The week without you was hell."

You chuckled. "Yeah, I get it.."

"You don't think I'm weird because I'm so attached, do you?" He asked nervously, hoping he didn't bother you with how needy and clingy he was at times. "Of course not.. I love that you're like that." You smiled, kissing his forehead gently.

"You do?" He seemed shocked by this. It was nice to know that his clingy nature wasn't something you found off-putting. "You really like how clingy and needy I sometimes am?"

You nodded. "I love how clingy and needy you are.. especially after sex.. it just shows that you love me." You said. "So my clingyness is seen more as affection rather than some annoying thing?" He asked, hopeful that that's how it was interpreted as. "Yeah." You confirmed, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

The thought genuinely made him happy. He was scared that all his love might have been overbearing on you. "You have no idea how happy that makes me." He looked up at you, a giant smile on his face.

You smiled right back at him. "Now.. mind taking a nap? And no, you're not leaving his bed. You're gonna cuddle with me." You said, knowing he'd ask to cuddle you as you slept. "Yes, ma'am." He said, not fighting you at all this time. He had the energy taken out of him from how hard he pleasured you. But it didn't bother him at all this time. He actually felt oddly content being so tired afterward. And you know he was loving every second of this. Being the big spoon for you is one of his favorite things to do.

After a minute of him gently spooning you and holding your hand, you drifted off to sleep. One of the things Eddie knew how to do best was aftercare. And he knew it.

He was so used to aftercare. The two of you had done it dozens and dozens of times. It was a very natural part of the routine that followed the sex.

Eddie stayed awake the whole time, just to make sure you were okay and that you didn't mind his touch. Plus, this was one of his favorite positions that you two took during aftercare: him as the big spoon. And he'd always loved it.

-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;

[miss-allsundays]

the thing is, blitzø isn’t in denial about his own feelings; he is in denial about stolas’.

blitzø knows he cares about the prince, he knows that it isn’t just about the grimoire for him anymore, but he’s convinced that his love is completely unrequited, because who in their right mind would like a bastard like him?

not only is stolas leagues above him in terms of social status, but in blitzø’s eyes, he also has nothing of value to add to the table as a person. he’s nothing but an asshole who has ruined lives, who doesn’t know how to build functioning relationships without fucking everything up one way or another. the only meaningful connection he has is with his daughter, and even then she had no other option, he adopted her.

whenever he sees a real, romantic bond, he instantly jumps to the sexual aspect of it- he’s seemingly weirdly interested in moxxie and millie’s relationship, especially when it comes to their bedroom life, and when he finds out that what fizz and ozzie have is genuine, he starts cracking vulgar jokes right away.

this is probably because sex is the most familiar aspect of it all for him, something even himself can obtain; which is why he sticks to that when it comes to stolas. he wants to keep their deal strictly sexual, because that makes it easy to manage. no strings attached means he won’t get hurt, and even worse, he won’t hurt the other person.

so when their dynamic starts to shift, even if to a minuscule amount, he panics and tries to forcefully stop that from happening.

we see it happening firstly during the harvest moon festival, when he stumbles through his own words in an attempt to correct striker, and then during ozzie’s, when he berates stolas at the end of the night, and then finally during OOPS, as he rants to fizz about how the owl doesn’t like him at all. nuh uh. no way in hell.

(you tell yourself that blitzø, we all think.)

[dianesdiaries]

first day, nervous? | Homelander x Y/n

-Homelander is introduced to his newest assistant after Ashley went AWOL, and Y/n's expectations were more then she knew

-Soft foreplay/tension

NOTE: this is a draft so I might finish it later!!

"Hey, you're finally here! Took long enough".

His teeth creaked into a wide smile, almost as forced as the wide floor-to ceiling doors that ringed in my ears. I shuffled quietly towards the curved slim table, as the slender man ran his fingers along the rims. Blonde silky streaks ran through his hair, his eyes squinted as he pushed his strands back. Homelander was a peculiar choice for a leader. As I sat down and watched him glide around the table, he leaned daringly close into my presence. "So what made you decide Vought? I checked your resume you know, you seem pretty-under qualified. Sorry", Homelander chuckled away the awkwardness of his sentence. It was pretty clear he thought I didn't have the brains for it. "Well", I pushed my glasses back into my face, avoiding the gaze of the daring supe. "I've been in association with many government institutions and have worked for-"

"Blahhh Blahhhh"

It took a minute for me to take in his approach. So far, in the past six minutes we've gotten to know each other I can already see how 'bright' my future will be at Vought. "I want the real truth. Everybody comes here looking for fucking power- whether they have it or not. So, again. Why are you here?" he asked, his voice became stern as he ran his fingers across my shoulders. My body bolted at the feeling, his gloves curving along my collar. The one thing I could be sure on was his need for praise. He wanted me to tell him how great he was. He needed to hear exactly what I thought of him so he knew how to approach me. And he found exactly how. By fear.

I chuckled nervously, "Well, I-uh.. Was looking for a new job because I guess I got tired of the same... form after form stuff, you know?", sweat leaked like a tap from my temples, streaking through the bright curtains that swayed back and forth. Homelander dove into the next chair, quickly spinning mine to face him. My legs became entrapped between his, his arms leaning between my seat. "I think.. You'll find just what you're looking for here. Besides.. you work for me. Right?", his eyes asserted a cold shiver through my body. "That's right, sir". "And you'll do whatever I say?", the air became still with his words. my breaths encased into my cavity, the struggle to find wiggle room became worse. Of course he's my boss but.. God, he was so close. I bit my lip at the careless thought of us, I'd already had fallen for what he had planned before I walked into that room.

"Yes sir".

"Anything?", curiosity sparked in his words as he leaned closer, his hands barely caressing between my legs.

"Yes, sir", the yearning in my voice grew louder, my back arching to the sharp feeling of his fingers climbing inside my shirt. His lips pressed into mine, his passive hand making its way through my pencil-tight skirt. The soft hum of his grunts buzzed against my lips, it drove me crazy. He knew exactly what I wanted. He knew the words to say. He felt my heart pace before I had the chance to sit down. An unpredictable supe is never good news, so why do I want it so bad?

[queerofthedagger]

sometimes. what i like to read or write in fic or just generally play around with.... is different and, dare i say, sometimes even contradicting to what i think the canonical reading is offering. like yeah he would not fucking say that but every once in a while i do like to indulge. sue me

[henke-penke]

*While being forcefully removed from the stage*

Heather and Alejandro are both characters who deeply value how others view them, and who long for love and approval, albeit differently. THAT'S why Noah is perfect for both of them. Because his love is unconditional.

Heather and Alejandro don't have to be extraordinary for Noah to care about them. They don't have to be the best for him to love them.

What does it matter if Alejandro isn't better than José when Noah doesn't care about José ? What does it matter if Heather's not the most popular person when Noah doesn't give a shit about social hierarchies ?

There is kindness in Noah's apathy and bluntness. Strange and unconventional, but kindness all the same. And that becomes a sort of safe space for Heather and Alejandro, because they're just people to him. There is no expectations for them, they have nothing to prove. They can be flawed, they can fail, they can be mean. Noah loves them because they are them and that's enough for him !

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Bucky Barnes | Rebellion Series | Caution

Part one of the Rebellion Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: By some miracle, you get saved from the consequences of your own actions. You’re reluctant to join a supposedly good cause. What happens when the good cause is not so legal? And what - or who - is your soft spot?

Warnings: Angst, fluff (?) and mentions of sex.

Words: 34OO

You have started shaking again. With every tremble of your body, the restraints around your legs and arms seem to tighten and you shudder even more at the awful memory of that feeling. It took weeks for the shaking to stop. Weeks of being locked up into this modern dungeon until you were nothing but silence and numbness.

You knew the rebellion could end in death, knew the consequences would be catastrophic, but at least you’d stood for something, fought for something. And you would choose death any day over the endless silence of this prison. You know for a fact that you’re surrounded by an ocean, but no matter how hard you listen, you cannot hear the wild sea crash. Can only hear the low hum of the air being circulated through your metal cell.

And today, approximately three months after the start of your sentence in the most secured prison on the planet, you have started shaking again. It can hardly be because today of all days, your brain has decided to make you go completely insane. That would be too random. Which means–

Your head snaps to the window, spotting the other cells. Empty. This floor is reserved just for you alone. Because apparently you’re too dangerous to interact with anyone. They even got machines bringing you your daily sustenance. An empty floor like every other day, yet something seems different. Something’s off.

A metal door flies through the middle of the circular space connecting all of the cells and you stiffen. You look at the ground again, keeping completely still. Maybe they don’t know that you’re here. Oh God, oh God, oh God. No, they can’t get to you. Not again.

The destruction clangs through your body and you tremble violently, curling up as much as you can and staring hard at the floor. The cold metal ground blurs with images of the rebellion. The things you gave up, the energy your summoned and wasted, the people you lost. The blood, and pain, and screams and– and– and…

“She’s in there. Grab her and then we get out of here.”

“Steve, I–”

“And hurry up, we don’t have much time!”

Two combat boots step into your vision and the stomps echo in your head, booming you back to reality. But not quite. Your eyes vibrate with fear and you swallow the nails in your throat. Then a pair of knees appear in front of you and a black gloved hand reaches forward. It hesitates, then retreats. As if choosing not to touch you. Wise choice.

“Hey.” The voice is low. And smooth as liquor.

But you don’t look up, focusing on trying not to tremble more and taking the firm contraptions wrapped around your shins and forearms as the protection they now are. Maybe this is another nightmare. It’s different from the ones you usually have, but black gloves… They had black gloves, too. And those firm boots. They may have kicked you in the stomach with those boots once. You don’t remember.

“I’m here to get you out,” the voice speaks again and you can only listen to the tone of voice, the way it sends a shockwave through your body and lessens the violent trembles. “Look up for me.”

You ignore him and focus on your breathing.

“Is she coming?” That first voice. Impatient. Panting.

The male before you turns to the centre of the floor and gives a frustrated sigh, “She’s pretty out of it.”

Before waiting for the other man to respond, he turns back to you and studies you. Even though you don’t see him, his stare burns right through the flimsy clothes they put on you. He lets out a soft sigh and flips out a knife from the holster at his waist, still kneeling before you. You stiffen, preparing yourself for the sting at your throat as they finally decide to get rid of you, but he tries his best not to touch any bare skin as he saws through the materials binding you together.

The relief of pressure from your skin make you feel so uneasy, you nearly throw up, but a gentle hand covers your arm and you finally look up. Warm, dark blue eyes connect with yours. Below heavy brows and above the faintest cluster of freckles. His mouth is soft and pillowy and his bone structure is otherworldly symmetrical.

“It’s okay,” he tells you gently and offers you a smile that you can tell doesn’t come to him naturally. “Can you walk?”

He pulls you to a stand with a firm, but comfortable grip and you instantly stumble on your feet at the weight suddenly put on them. One arm flies around your waist and hoists you into his side as he catches your fall.

“Okay, okay,” he grunts with a gentle laugh. “I got you. Let’s get the fuck out of here, alright?”

Your throat feels like sandpaper as you hobble along with the wall of a male dragging you along, “Who are you?”

He spares you a brief glance and smiles once more, following ‘Steve’ out of the building and onto an air craft that is way too loud. “Bucky. We’re here to help you. Or I suppose you’re here to help us, little rebel.”

…

Steve gives Bucky a knowing glare, only breaking it by daring a glance at your bedroom door which you have been effectively hiding behind for weeks now. “You know I can’t go in there, Bucky.”

“You know I won’t let you,” Bucky answers drily with a shrug. As opposed to his best friend, Bucky hasn’t stopped staring at your door.

“You’re not even hiding your possessiveness when it comes to her,” Steve breathes through a laugh. That makes Bucky finally look at his friend.

“I’m not possessive,” he says matter-of-factly. He’s not even offended, just practical. “I’m protective. The last thing she needs is all of the nosy people in this tower swirling around her when she doesn’t trust a single soul.”

“Has she started to trust you?”

Bucky has to keep from wincing at Steve’s question, and he clears his throat. “Sure,” he lies.

If Steve caught the lie, he didn’t let on. It was as much of a dismissal as he was going to get. After watching his best friend walk off to do captain things, Bucky braces himself to step into your room. He has no hope that his interaction with you will be any different than the previous ones.

“Another day of convincing me to be your weapon?” you nearly snarl when he walks into your room.

If Bucky is entirely honest, he thought you would have turned into this damaged girl that would morph into a wild animal as you worked through what had been done to you. He didn’t really expect this perseverance and defiance from the woman he saved from that prison. But he supposes he should have seen that question coming. It wasn’t his best work; starting that day he saved you with all of the things you could be doing for them. Why they had saved you. Simply for their own gain. Or that is how you understood it, at least…

He has never been good with words. That has always been Steve’s thing. Bucky was reliable physically and he paid attention. He never had to use many words to make his point. Yet you keep asking these questions – rhetorical, he thinks – and you keep giving him this penetrating stare until he answers. Which is a sure way to make him fuck up, because how do people do that? Bring sensible thoughts into words and make it make sense?

Especially when the woman asking said questions is so damned… pretty.

“It’s time for you to get out of this room,” he tells you plainly. It seems the tactic of ignoring your questions is effective. It only took him six days to figure that one out.

He strides over to cross the room, not sparing you another glance in your chair in the corner, and rips open the curtains. The cat-like hiss coming from you has Bucky nearly biting back a smile. He turns and watches you stand from your chair, stalking over to him with your chin high and a scowl on your face. He raises an eyebrow with amused intrigue.

“And what, exactly, will I be doing outside of my room?” you ask.

He dips down slightly, but you keep the proximity. “Whatever you want. I don’t care.”

“If you don’t care, why hunt me out of my room?”

He shrugs, “Captain’s orders.” He isn’t entirely lying.

“Why isn’t the captain telling me himself?”

Bucky smirks and leans even closer, making you feel his minty breath fan over your face. “Because I’m the only one who isn’t scared of you.”

You snort at that and roll your eyes before breaking away from him. “I’ll get dressed.”

Bucky tries his hardest not to look too stunned as you retreat into the bathroom. A deep sigh leaves his lips as he paces through your room in wait for you to get ready. It takes a whole lot of effort to muster a smirk when it comes to his interactions with you.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he asks quietly.

Just as quietly, the house responds, “Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Has she asked for anything from you? To contact friends or family, or other information?”

“No, she hasn’t.”

“Does she have anyone left?” he tries, chewing his lip as he dreads the answer.

“Not that we’re aware. Mr. Stark had me run a background check, but she seems alone. No sign of anyone missing or deceased. No sign of a network at all.”

Bucky doesn’t know why that feels worse in his chest and he swallows. “Alright, thank you.”

A few moments later, you step out of the shower and find Bucky lounging in the chair he found you in, leafing through one of your books. Just as you’re about to check whether he has gotten his hands on one of your smuttier books, your eyes snag on the clothes laid out for you on the bed.

You pause long enough to make Bucky look up from the book. “Did you… Did you seriously pick out this underwear for me?”

Bucky eyes the lace panties dangling from your fingers and shrugs with a smirk. A smirk had never looked so enticing, but you sharpen your stare on him. “Do you prefer the grey, cotton ones in the back of the closet?”

You grit your teeth and scowl at him again, before morphing your mouth into a vindictive smile. “Why? Don’t you?”

His eyes dance at that. “Wouldn’t make a difference to me.”

And it’s the way he said it, with so much casual amusement and… promise. Heat rises to your face and you duck your head down. Snatching the clothes from the bed, you retreat back into the bathroom to get dressed.

…

The rest of your conversations had been purely functional as Bucky lead you down into the building where Steve was waiting. Bucky rolled his eyes at his friend’s horrible attempt at hiding his surprise. Steve hadn’t seen you since the day they came to save you, he must have never expected Bucky to be successful in his retrieval.

Bucky also hadn’t missed the meaningful look Steve then gave him that indicated he tucked away some valuable information. The information being that if they ever needed to get you to do something, Bucky is the way to get you to do it. Why? Steve seemed to have his theories and Bucky didn’t like it one bit.

However, for now he doesn’t care. Instead, he sticks by you after you reluctantly agreed to join Steve on a walk.

Strolling down the path through the surrounding woods, Bucky catches himself bracing for a fight every time Steve gets a little too close to you. He doesn’t like it. The last time he was this sensitive to proximity, he had just ran from Hydra. He’s seen other traumatised people before, but this feels different. And instead of listening to your and Steve’s conversation, he tries to figure out what it is. He supposes it’s because you have no survival instinct. In the few videos he’s seen of your rebellion and the encounters he has had with you the past weeks, you see danger or conflict and run straight toward it. Nothing scared or cautious about you. It sets his nerves on edge.

Bucky is well aware of what Steve is telling you and he has to refrain from rolling his eyes at the careful way Steve tries to coax you into their plan, when earlier that week they had not been nearly as careful as they calculated how to get you involved. But even Bucky had to admit that they needed you – specifically, everyone who would follow you into the grave. When Stark had shown him the videos, he was perplexed as to how you got such a huge following when what you fought for was so terribly dangerous. But one look at those sharp eyes and one deep command from you, and Bucky had seen it. That unwavering will and that brilliant brain that was always calculating. Steve could learn a few tricks from you on being a strong leader. And considering Bucky wildly admires his old friend, that is saying something.

They need you. Bucky knows it, too. They need not just someone with great leadership skills and a loyal following, but someone that does it out of empathy for the people mistreated by the system. Because that is who they’re going to be fighting – the system.

Again.

…

“You haven’t said anything about what Steve told you,” Bucky says on your walk back to your room. The offer to escort you back to your room hadn’t been entirely selfless.

“I need to think about it,” you murmur, deep in thought.

Bucky suppresses his sigh of sympathy. They are asking you to join a cause you were so passionate about, and that after failing so miserably last time. He can barely imagine the things you must have witnessed and endured with your last upraise. How you had gotten so influential that the government decided to treat you like you were a super-human and punished you accordingly. You had been put in the same prison as Wanda. Wanda. That is how powerful you were.

“It can’t be easy to revisit everything after all that’s happened,” he resigns and you blink from your thoughts to raise your eyes to his face. You study him and it takes all of Bucky’s might not to shift under your assessing gaze.

Then you speak up, “I’ve always done the right thing. Steve knows I can’t walk away from it…”

Bucky smiles at that. “Just like him.”

Your eyes narrow at that comment, but Bucky finds no venom in the look. You continue, “Sacrificing my life for the cause was never an issue. But to lead others into that same fate again?” The guilt had eaten you alive. All those people that had gotten arrested, split up from loved ones, hurt– worse…

Bucky interrupts your thoughts before they get a hold on you by clearing his throat. “Tonight, we have dinner with everyone. You’re welcome to join if you’d like.” Your heavy stare on him makes him quickly add, “Don’t give me that look. There will be no talk of overthrowing the government. Just dress fancy.”

The snort of a laugh that comes from you feels lighter to Bucky than he’d like to admit. And to ease the tension, he forces another smirk to his face. You narrow your eyes again warily, “What.”

He shrugs, turning to leave you alone at your door. Then he winks. “Let me know if you need me to pick out some underwear for you.” And then he’s gone.

Bucky hangs onto that cockiness all the way until dinner, where the entire group has showed up. Even Thor said he’d show up for a drink. Barton flew in from his family home to join the group as well. He remembers a time when he’d felt more than uncomfortable around this group of people. But so much has changed. They all saw him as a great asset to the team and even relied on him more and more to supervise the missions. He’s at home with them now. Heart swelling with affection, he listens to his friends – his family – laugh in the kitchen while they pour the drinks.

And then all of their faces turn into one direction, some of them pulling taut, few of them giving warm, comforting smiles. Bucky follows their gaze and it is like someone punched him in the gut, air whooshing out of his body. He doesn’t really know why – other than the obvious fact that you look ravishing of course. But he looks at you and clears his throat to welcome you to the group.

Natasha beats him to it though and it has Bucky’s hackles rising. She shoots him a knowing smile and then he backs off. His pride wounded like a cat booped on the nose. Natasha is good at it, charming people until they feel comfortable. Or take their pants off. But there’s an easy smile on your face – one Bucky knows is at least slightly forced – and you blend in with the crowd easily.

Suddenly, Sam’s at his side. “I know what you’re thinking,” he grumbles with his eyes on you and Natasha, followed by a swig of his beer bottle. “Those two together can only mean trouble.”

Bucky can only grunt in agreement.

…

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Natasha drawls with a guilty smile.

Barton shakes his head. “The poor schmuck didn’t stand a chance. There is no way you could have taken him if you hadn’t slept with him the night before.”

Natasha shrugs. “Look, a girl has her needs. He met them and the next day he met his fate.”

“Really, Nat?” Steve nearly cringes and Bucky reins in his laugh. “The guy’s moral compass was straight from hell and you decided to sleep with him?”

Natasha barely manages to open her mouth before you decide to pitch in, raising a glass to her. “I get it. Terrible morals do add a little spice in the bedroom.”

Nat clinks her glass with yours and mutters a ‘she gets it’, but Bucky’s eyes are searing through your skin. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised at such outrageous claims coming out of your mouth. There is nothing innocent about you. Good, yes. Innocent? No. Yet perhaps it isn’t ‘surprise’ that is warming his body from the inside out.

Conversation flows easily between the Avengers and the food Tony had made easily beats the Brooklyn comfort food Bucky usually seeks out. Cheeks turn rosy from the drinks, voices get louder, lights get dimmer. Bucky has to really look to be sure what he’s seeing. You, relaxed and happy. Such a stark contrast to the woman he found in the prison. No wonder you’re so good with people. People make you good.

He can barely manage his smirk however, when he notices the strain in your body to keep from looking at him. Why you are so adamant to avoid him, he can’t really tell. But this is now your weak spot, so he cannot help but tuck the info away for later.

The night carries on and everyone switches places, catching up on endless memories and adventures and being surprisingly considerate to include you in most conversations. Bucky ends up at the head of the table, you on the seat closest to him, both listening to Sam. You listen closely and Bucky can only assume you have some relief from being actively distracted from him. And being the arrogant bastard he knows he can be, he ‘accidentally’ brushes a knuckle over the back of your hand that’s resting on the table. He watches you stiffen and swallow, but like a true rebel, you show no other sign that it affected you.

A few more stunts like that had Bucky pressing his knee to your thigh under the table and it takes everything not to pull away from it. So you gaslight yourself to let the touch ground you. To absorb his warmth and relax even more into the touch. And if you guess it correctly, the way you respond to Bucky’s touch is not what he expected… So you find yourself having the upper hand again.

And if you’re going to join these people in their cause, what’s a little game with your menace of a saviour?

[reddamselette]

“We need to know less about each other,” Leo whispered against Jason’s lips. He swallowed dryly, closing his eyes for a simple moment before he dropped his head onto Jason’s shoulder and breathed.

Jason rested his head back against the wall behind him, staring up at the shining and twinkling stars and constellations in the dark blue blanket of a sky. His hands were cradling Leo’s head, fingers tangled in brown curls. His heart thudded in his chest, his cheeks burning and flushed with crimson red as the blood rushed to his face.

It was unfair, he thought.

How easy it was for Leo take his heart and shatter it like a stick hitting a drum, lightning crackling from the ground into the clouds. They were outside by the bar, celebrating with the others late on a summer night where it was hot enough during the day but worse once the sun had set. It was unfair, he thought, how Leo could say that after so long. “I can’t know less about you, Leo.”

Jason could never forget or unlearn what has been engraved in his mind like etchings on stone tablets. He would always remember the slightest shine in big brown eyes when he would gesture wildly with his hands as he spoke about something he was passionate about or the curl of his lips that would spread into a grin that was the most beautiful thing he could witness.

The touches that were searing hot and burned his fingertips into Jason’s skin, every nerve tingling until he was on fire. Jason memorized the specific pattern of Leo’s heartbeat underneath his palm, the scars on his arm that were shaped like a constellation, and how every curl hung over his eyes or curled up on the crown of his head; fluffy, soft curls that felt like he could fly running his hands through each strand and twirling it between his fingers.

He could never know less about Leo Valdez because his very soul was made to absorb every detail about him like the fact he would chew on his lip a few times before biting the inside of his cheek when he was overwhelmed. Leo had the habit of tapping his finger, whistling or humming to himself in concentration. How his voice was smooth but there was quirks of an accent, a rasp with certain words and a slip into the swirls of the Spanish language.

Leo pulled away, his hands sliding off of Jason’s waist to the wall on either side of his head, caging him in as if his mind and mouth was saying one thing but his body and heart were saying another. “This was a mistake.”

Jason looked at him with sad eyes, gripping his hair between his fingers as he shook his head. “Was it? Or are you saying that because you feel guilty? I don’t want to be strangers, don’t do that to me.”

“We should’ve stayed strangers since the very beginning, Jason.” Leo sighed and hovered his hand near Jason’s cheek, heat radiating from the close vicinity of his palm to his skin before he leaned away and gently removed Jason’s hands from his hair. “You’re everything to me, you know.”

“Am I? It doesn’t seem like it.”

“You are.”

“I hate you,” Jason lied and he lied painfully. His body was resting against the wall, using it as support as he stared into Leo’s features, sky blue irises roaming over his figure, his hands, his hair, his lips. He could never truly hate him because he fell in love with him but it wasn’t enough. Jason would never be enough.

Leo didn’t reply for several moments. His hands were limp at his sides, the area was barely illuminated and masked his fingers curling into his palms, nails digging into his skin and created crescent shapes. He knew Jason would never hate him but he wished he would. Leo deserved it for hurting him in such a way, for cradling him and embracing him the way lovers of so many years do. They weren’t official, they never would be, but it hurt. It ripped Leo apart. It was as if smoke infiltrated his lungs and drowned out the oxygen, stealing away his ability to breathe. “I know.”

[inlovewithgreta]

Quiet Hours — Maude x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: yes, this is for you @celasteria. for anybody wondering, this is a pam character from the show fucking adelaide, definitely give it a watch!

Summary: You’re too lonely so you sneak your way into Maude’s room.

Warnings: fingering (r!receiving), age gap, that’s about it I believe.

Word Count: 1.1k

Taglist: @shslbunnylover

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You peeked your head out the door from the room you were supposedly 'sleeping' in, and scanned the hallway for any movement. And thank god there was nobody there. Your bare footsteps made a few cracks in the old wooden flooring creak as you hastily made your way to the room you truly wanted to sleep in.

Part of you was gutted by the fact that you and Maude had to hide your relationship, her telling her children, who were not that much younger than you, that you were just a friend.

But you were much, much, more than that. And you knew that, but you also knew that Maude wasn't ready just yet to reveal the actual truth that the two of you have been seeing each other, as the older woman was afraid of what her offspring would think of her.

She was once married to a man, and now here she is, dating a woman. A woman who treated her like no other. Like she was a goddess. A treasure to be cherished. And that's exactly what she was to you. Someone you never wanted to let go.

Your mind raced as you failed to knock on your lover's door, letting yourself in without a moment of hesitation as to avoid being seen by wandering eyes.

"Darling, what are you doing? Shut the door!" Maude whisper yelled, her head tilting, and her eyes flicking over your shoulder to make sure nobody sees you.

You shut the door and turned the lock with a quiet 'click', Maude instantly taking in your barely covered and well more petite figure. "I missed you..." you stated truthfully, letting your bottom lip fall in a faux pout that only made the woman lightly laugh.

"Honey, it's only been an hour," she removed the covers from her body, revealing her satin gown, and gestured towards her lap with that adorable smile that you loved oh so much.

There was no hesitation to swing your leg over her body to straddle the woman, your own thin nightgown hiking up past your upper thigh. The view Maude had from her angle definitely made the older woman hold back a growl.

"Well I can't help it," you tucked a stray gray hair behind her ear as her hands fell to the curve of your hips. "I always miss seeing your beautiful face with those delicious chocolate eyes looking at me. And the way you constantly have some kind of finger on me, always keeping me close to you. Keeping me warm."

"Is that so?" She questioned, a familiar glint sparkling in her eye as her fingers slid down to your upper thigh, only to let her digits roam past the hem of your gown. "On... or in you?" Maude asked, letting a wandering hand cup your heated center.

"I think we both know the answer to that," you chuckled, wetting your lips with your tongue before capturing Maude in a tender kiss. You meant for it to be a short, sweet kiss, but Maude had just felt how wet you were. And when you went to pull away, her teeth clenched to your bottom lip, forcing you to stay.

Her tongue was welcomed into your mouth, your gasp from her fingers moving your panties to the side to glide along your folds was muffled. She gathered your slick from your entrance to your clit, slowly giving your bud some much needed attention.

"So, which one is it?" She asked between sloppy kisses. "On or in? Let me hear you say it, pretty girl." Her free hand left your hip to cup your breast, sliding her thumb across your nipple, and smiling at the fact that you weren't wearing a bra.

"In," you admitted, Maude's fingers now sliding back to toy at your entrance. "Definitely in— please—" Maude didn't even give you the chance to beg, as she sunk two digits deep into your core.

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth that was now freely moaning at her ministrations, while the other held onto her shoulder for support, moving the black and gray strands behind her back to avoid pulling her hair.

As filthy as this moment is, Maude was always taken back at how sweet, and tender you were with her. You could easily be rougher with the woman, make the sex dirtier, but you always chose not to. Instead, allowing yourself to be gentle with the older woman, knowing how bad her past was with her ex.

It was actions like this that made her fall for you even harder than she thought she ever would. She never thought she'd find someone as sweet and caring as you. Who treated her with the utmost love and affection. And she relished every moment she spent with you.

You made her realize her worth.

Maude's hand left your breast, to uncover your mouth, allowing a few of your moans to escape before she took hold of your chin and brought your face back to hers. She needed your lips back on hers. Needing to be as close to you as possible.

And it didn't take long for you to clench against her digits, whining into the kiss as you came, and Maude being oh so careful to not overstimulate you.

"Mmm..." you hummed contently, leaning your forehead against hers with your eyes closed, and cupping her face ever so gently with your hands. "I love you, Maude."

"I love you too, my sweet girl. More than words can even describe." She stroked your cheek with her thumb, while also easing her digits out of you. "Now let's get you cleaned up, and you can sleep in here with me tonight, hmm?"

You leaned back, eyebrows knitted in worry, "But, what about—" A soft finger to your lips cuts you off. "I'm telling them about us in the morning." Maude said, with a sweet smile and a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.

"You are?" You asked, your face immediately lighting up.

"Yes," she chuckled. "I am. They deserve to know how happy you make me," Maude admitted. "Darling, this is the happiest and most loved I've ever been. I want everyone to know that it's you who is making me feel this way. I don't care what they'll think anymore, I'm doing this for me.... For us." She finished her statement with a loving kiss to the tip of your nose.

You couldn't help but melt at her words. Arms wrapping around her neck as you gazed happily into her brown eyes that looked back at you with both love and admiration.

For once in your life, you were truly happy. And you couldn't wait to see what the future had in store for not only you, but your blossoming relationship with Maude.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

general masterlist | taglist

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Todays @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is wizard, and I’m doing my best to get back into my more substantial projects, I promise

(569 words.)

“Mr Lupin, you are, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the most infuriating wizards we have had! Would you care to tell me why the entirety of your charms class started laughing uncontrollably apart from you?” Minerva asked, arms folding. He merely shrugged, casual smile playing across his face.

“Dunno, Minnie. Must’ve dodged the charm.”

“And you expect me to believe that? Flitwick has been undoing this all afternoon! I’m going to assume Mr Potter had a hand in this.” Another shrug, and another wave of frustration over Minerva.

“Couldn’t tell you.”

Minerva runs an irritated hand over her face, stopping to rest at her temple for a moment.

“Merlin, I’m going to have to call your parents in, aren’t I?”

“If you wanted to.”

Without another word, Minerva pulled her desk drawer open, grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, and wrote to his parents, purposefully avoiding the phrase ‘little shit’ as she went.

“Wotcher, Minnie!” Sirius chirped, strolling down the corridor and shooting her a smile.

“You haven’t changed one bit, have you?” She said back, unable to hide her own smile at his infectious cheer. Remus wrapped an arm around Sirius’ waist.

“What’s our son gone and done?” He asked, and Minerva exhaled, watching them pointedly.

“Jinxed the entirety of his class into uncontrollable laughter.” A pause, and Sirius chuckled heartily.

“Oh, that’s bloody brilliant! How long’d it take to undo?” Remus, quite clearly biting back his own laughter, turned to his husband.

“Sirius! We have to be adults, here.”

“Please, Moony, we did way worse.”

“Mmm, we did. Still, not the time to go on some big tangent about that time we accidentally made everyone in the castle sing for 6 days.”

“You told him that?” Minerva asked, stunned.

“…maybe. To be fair, I did tell him how long we were in detention for!”

“You told him about how it made us get together.” Remus added.

“Well, you told him about the quidditch commentating incident!” Sirius protested.

“And you told him about chucking all of the Slytherin’s luggage into the black lake.”

“Yeah, I don’t think a lecture from us will be as impactful as we want it to be.” Sirius concluded.

“It’s fine, I’ve got a plan.” Remus waved him off easily.

They followed Minerva to her office, where Teddy was sitting with his arms crossed. He turned his head at the arrival of his parents, smiling like he had done absolutely nothing wrong.

“Hey, dads.”

“Professor McGonnagal here tells us that you’ve been tormenting your class?” Teddy just shrugged.

“Don’t know what you’re on about. No evidence.” Remus swiftly nudged Sirius to make sure he didn’t start laughing again.

“Well, I’m glad I’ll be able to start keeping an eye on you, then!” Remus said cheerfully, feigned relief flooding through his voice. They all watched as Teddy’s face dropped.

“What?”

“Oh, did I not tell you? I accepted a position here. Starting in September. I’m your new DADA professor.”

“You’re not.” Teddy said, voice low, like he was trying to talk Remus out of it.

“Mm, but I am.” He said with a tranquil smile, turning to Sirius, who nodded. Minerva watched the interaction and tried to keep from chuckling.

She hadn’t realised that Remus had accepted the offer yet, but she was so fucking glad that he had.

With a casual clearing of the throat, she leaned in and added,

“You’ll be serving all of your detentions with me.”